#thoughts from the mountaintop
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okay but the release of the npmd pro shot has me rewatching all the hatchetverse musicals/content.
and omg i kinda forgot how much Jon absolutely ATE "Let It Out" in tgwdlm. he put his whole jon-ussy into that song. like:
the acting of Pokey's mind control fighting with Paul? incredible. the way his facials switch so quickly and you could just tell the difference.
the vocals? show-stopping. that high note on "NEVER!"?!?! literally what the fuck. i wish i could hit that note as flawlessly as he did.
the sheer power of "I..don't. like! MUSICALS!"? i was incinerated. broadway stars were crying because they knew they'd never come close.
listen, all i'm saying is Jon deserved a tony for that performance and it's actually so criminal that starkid isn't like widely known by the general population.
#starkid#tgwdlm#the guy who didn't like musicals#jon matteson#paul matthews#hatchetverse#npmd#nerdy prudes must die#nightmare time#black friday#nightmare time 2#pokey#pokotho#hatchetfield#thoughts from the mountaintop
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Simple Math / Part Eleven
Simple Math masterlist
Ghost/Soap/female reader
6k words - AO3
Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic depiction of domestic violence. This fic contains mature themes. Mention of pregnancy. Nurse!reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Bun is in pain, goes to a doctor. Dissociation. Lots of despair, fear, anxiety. The 141 reunites. Nightmares. Comfort. Tenderness. Angst.
Welcome home.
“Knock knock.”
“Bunny.” Johnny murmurs, lifting an arm, urging you close, a moon to a tide.
“Hi.” You bend, moving into the hug, pressing your face to his neck for a quick second before straightening.
“I miss ye.” You survey him, glancing at the monitor, the brace on his leg and hip, the disconnected fluid line. He’s doing well. You’re so relieved to see it with your own eyes, ribs rattling with a long exhale. Satisfied, you smile, tension bleeding from your spine.
“Simon says you’re terrorizing your night nurse.”
“Am not. She’s jus’ not gentle, or quiet. Wakes me up.”
“That’s her job.” He scoffs, waving you off. You settle in the chair at his side, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips, dotting kisses across your knuckles. His affection is freeing, sweet and easy, a warm breeze on a spring day. It overflows your heart with warmth until you think it might spill over, and you go with it, following his lead, even though your better judgement, the girl in the mirror, wails.
“Ye look good. Better. Swellin’ gone down?” He cradles your chin, turning your face from left to right, inspecting with a crystal-clear sapphire gleam.
“Yeah, my shoulder is still sore but… yeah. I feel better.”
“’m glad. Simon keepin’ ye off yer feet all day then?”
“Oh my god.” You laugh. “He keeps telling me to lay down. Or asking if I want to take a nap.” Johnny chuckles.
“Sounds right. He’s a bit o’ a mother hen, that one. He cares though, we both do.”
“I know.” You squeeze his hand. “And I missed you too.”
“He said ye an’ him had a nice chat the other night?” Your cheeks burn. Oh god. Did he… “I’m a wee bit jealous.” He complains, turning his nose up and away in a mock pout, and you roll your eyes.
You laid in bed all night and thought about these moments. Thought about Simon’s mouth on yours, his hand on your ass, squeezing and stroking. You thought about how he tasted, how he smelled, the way he looked at you, like you were a part of their world, a piece of them.
And you thought about Johnny. Johnny alone here, Johnny trapped in the hospital, healing, unable to leave or even get out of bed. How anxious he must be, being separated from his family, how frustrating it is to spend so long trying to get better.
You wanted to give him something. Wanted to make him feel better, see him smile.
Here goes nothing.
Leaning, standing, you dip into his orbit, lightly bumping your noses together. It takes no time until his good hand is around the back of your neck, crashing your mouth into his, and he breathes you in, holding you steady, tongue and teeth and lips swirling together in a ubiquitous, overwhelming haze. He tastes like summer rain, the feeling in the air before a giant storm, electric and blazing, brilliant glow transferring between the two of you, lightning striking a mountaintop. He nips your bottom lip, heat flooding your stomach, and you pull away slowly, his eyes jeweled and shimmering, brilliantly blue.
“Bunny,” You try to swallow a quiet giggle and fail. “I’ll have to tell ye I’m jealous more often.”
“Don’t take advantage.” You playfully scold.
“Me? Take advantage?” He pretends to be outraged, voice piquing higher, and you laugh again. “How can I take advantage when ‘m the one stuck here in this bed while ye two are at home, playin’ house, takin’ couch naps and gettin’ butt rubs. No one cares about Johnny, no-“
“Shhh.” You press your lips to his, silencing him, remaining in the kiss that’s long and soft and saccharine. He sneaks his tongue back between your teeth, mischievous and wild, every bit the man you’re drawn to, an attraction you can’t fight.
“Well.” Simon clears his throat from the doorway, brows raised, mask snug. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” You don’t know why, but you fly backwards, nearly stumbling, cheeks on fire. You feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, and that feeling, the pit in the bottom of your stomach, is all too reminiscent.
It frightens you.
“Whoa, hey.” Johnny tries to snag a finger around your wrist, but you step out of the way.
“It’s alright.” Simon moves inside fully, clicking the door shut behind him. “You’re not in trouble. Nothing is wrong, I was just kidding. That’s my fault.” You shake your head.
He’s not mad. Johnny is fine. Everything is fine.
You’re overreacting. You’re making a mess of this.
You shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place. What’re you doing? Who are you kidding?
“I’m s-sorry.” You stammer, hands wringing together anxiously.
“Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry about.” Johnny protests, still trying to reach for you.
Get it together. You have to get it together.
You close your eyes.
Deep breath. In and out. You can do it. Just breathe.
It works. You’re steadier, and you meet their watchful gazes as your eyes open.
“You okay?” Simon murmurs, moving very slowly to the other side of the bed where you’re standing, like he’s approaching a spooked, scared, wild animal.
“Yeah. Sorry. Just… had a moment. I’m fine.” Not entirely true, but that’s alright. You feel a little unsteady, a little unnerved, and Johnny frowns.
“Ye should sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“Bunny, please. For me?” He bats his eyelashes, and you want to groan.
But you lower yourself in the chair all the same.
Quiet falls over the room. It’s awkward and stiff, and you curse yourself for ruining the moment.
“Hey.” Simon soothes, reading your mind. “Hey, you’re alright. Everything is fine.” You nod, unsettled. He squeezes your good shoulder and dips past you, leaning to press a gentle kiss to Johnny’s brow, before dotting his nose and pushing their lips together. Their kiss is long, languid touch melting away to expose their connection, trust and love on full display. Delicate and rare, their affection makes your heart flutter, pulchritudinous whispers given to one another as Simon holds Johnny’s hand, stroking a familiar pattern into his skin, something similar to the way he touches you. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Wish they’d let me out of this bloody bed.” Johnny grumbles. You clear your throat.
“They’re waiting on your wrist. Once your wrist can support your weight on crutches, then you’ll be able to start PT and be released.”
“Ach. I know.” He’s frustrated, it’s clear. You know it’s not easy, being here, being separated, stuck in a hospital.
“It won’t be too long.” You try to reassure him, and he nods, still a little forlorn. “Here,” you stand with a burst of confidence, knocking his arm with the back of your hand as a direction, “scooch over.”
His eyes light. Simon laughs.
You fold yourself onto the edge of the bed, turned on your side, curled along where he’s the least banged up, careful of the sensitive graft lurking beneath his hospital gown.
“There. That better?” His good arm wraps around you carefully, settling on your ribs, a thumb tracing the wrinkle of your shirt.
“Aye, much better.” Your knees are bent, and cool air ghosts over your lower back, where your shirt has ridden up and exposed your skin. You shiver.
“Cold?” Simon murmurs, and you nod. He’s close, hovering, pulling a blanket up from the end of the bed to cover both you and Johnny. He tucks it around the two of you carefully and leans forward, pulling his mask down again to brush his lips across Johnny’s brow.
You watch in a daze. They don’t speak, but there’s something happening between them, something being said in their eyes as Simon holds his face briefly, and Johnny nods.
They both look to you, your bottom lip caught between teeth.
“Want one too?” Simon hums, cupping the back of your head. “Here.” He kisses you, lingering in it, heat of his naked mouth still a shock to your system.
Johnny is beaming, and cuddles you as close as possible, cheek resting atop your forehead.
They make you dizzy. All of it feels like some kind of dream, a world impossible, a fantasy suddenly turned real life. You’re on the verge of spinning out of control inside it, losing yourself.
It doesn’t help that everything you’ve done over these last few years, this identity, this life, the work that went into hiding and planning and saving and scraping, trying to stay unseen and unnoticed-
Was all for nothing.
“Bunny?” Johnny whispers, bringing you back to them. Simon is settled in the recliner, the same one from the ICU room, but his arm is stretched past your head, fingers playing idly in Johnny’s very long mohawk.
“Sorry. I’m here.”
“Where did ye go?” He tightens his hold, and you snuggle in closer, hiding away from everything bearing down on you, the pain and the panic and the doubt. You hide your face from it, refuse to acknowledge it, desperately trying to stay in this moment, hoping to just be… be here with them. In the sun.
“Nowhere.”
A day passes. Then another, and another, and another. Your face nearly looks normal, puffiness and swelling practically gone, and your neck aches less and less with each passing day.
Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a problem.
It never stops hurting. You struggle to get your arm through your shirts, can barely lift it, can't pick anything up, and it’s so sore, tender, and stiff, like it’s been dislocated or worse, broken. You’re worried, worried about going back to work without a full range of motion, worried about being in pain.
Worried about being even more permanently damaged than you already are.
Just another tally mark. Just another thing you must live with now, a permanent remnant of him, a forever reminder of just how foolish you really are.
You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re damaged.
The pain breaks you down. It prevents you from sleeping, keeps you twisting and turning through a roil of dark dreams. It depresses you, sinks its teeth into your flesh and gnaws on the pieces touched by the sun, the parts of your heart still beating, somehow.
It reminds you of everything you’re desperate to forget.
It all comes crashing down one morning. The despair. The helpless feeling brewing in your stomach. The loneliness. It keeps you there, in bed, in agony, past breakfast.
It keeps you there, until you hear the creak of the stairs, a firm knock.
“I’m coming in.” Simon advises, trying the door, cracking it enough to stick his head through.
You’re crumpled in the middle of the mattress, pillows strewn about from trying to find a comfortable position, tears already dried. Your shoulder hurts so bad, and you don’t know why, don’t know why it’s not getting better, not healing.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” He sits at your side, hand resting on your hip, inspecting the worry lines, the frown tugging at your lips. “What’s going on?” Guilt swamps you.
“It’s nothing, my shoulder just kept me up, so I’m a little tired. That’s all.” You paste on your work smile, forced and believable, but he only shakes his head.
“Don’t do that.” He thumbs your brow. “I think you should see a doctor.”
“N-no.” You can’t. He doesn’t understand. They’ll want to take x-rays. X-rays lead to questions.
He never takes you at face value. Always pushing. Always digging, looking you over. “Why not?”
“It’s… it’s not necessary. I’m fine, it’s probably just a deep bruise.”
“You’d be experiencing less pain if that was the case.” You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. “I know a little bit. We all have basic medic training, and I’ve been reading up, for when Johnny gets home.” He pats your hip. “Let’s make you an appointment.” You shake your head.
“No!” It’s too sharp, too insistent, and he freezes. You wince. “I’m sorry. It’s just-“
“You can’t go to a doctor.” He finishes, like he knows. “Tell me why, sweetheart.” You take a shaky breath.
You can’t. You shouldn’t.
Sunlight taps against the iron that’s encrusted around your heart. It knocks, wanting to be let in. It searches for weakness, places of opportunity, slivers of space where it can find its way.
Your mouth starts moving before you give it permission, like it knows this is where you’re headed, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how deeply the survivor’s logic is ingrained in your brain.
“It… it’s not safe.”
“It creates a trail.” He surmises, and you nod. For a wild moment, you wonder if he’s a plant. If they’re a trap, designed to get you to lower your guard, fabricated to encourage you to trust, to love, just so the jaws of Philip’s cruelty can close around you at the most opportune moment.
They wouldn’t. They’re not. You’re being ridiculous. You’re paranoid.
“We’ll make it under my name. Our primary is service member focused, and very discreet. You’ll be safe.” He makes it hard to argue, even though you want to. You should.
“I- I don’t know.”
“I can’t stand to see you in pain like this.” He rebukes, and then smiles softly, eyes lighting up. “Besides, I’m going to need your help. Johnny’s coming home on Friday.”
“He is?” You push upward. “Really?”
“Really.” He’s beaming, radiant sunshine spilling from his lips, and it makes you emotional, seeing him so happy, so weightless. “He passed a strength test on his wrist this morning. He needs a few days of PT in hospital, and then he can do it outpatient. His care team has signed off, and he’s ready.”
“Oh my god, that’s great!”
“It is. But I want both of you on the mend, not just one. Please.” It doesn’t take much more for you to concede, unable to find an excuse or a good enough reason, one he’s not able to combat.
“Alright, I guess.”
“Simon. Good to see you.” The doctor extends his hand and Simon shakes it readily, keeping his body positioned between you and the physician, one hand still on your knee.
He’s had a hand on you for the last half hour. You’ve been rattling on the exam table, shifting and fretful, disquieted energy spilling forth since he coaxed you into the car this morning.
“Dr. Fitch.”
“This is my patient?” He motions to you, and Simon stands to the side, concentrating, eyes focused above the mask. You give your name, and the provider repeats it with a warm smile.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitch.” You raise your good arm to shake his hand, and he pulls the rolling stool underneath him, taking a seat opposite Simon at your knee.
A warm palm flexes at your lower back. It’s soothing, comforting.
I’m here, it says. You’re safe.
“Simon says you’ve been having some shoulder pain?”
“Yeah, I had… I had an injury. Thought there was some soft tissue damage, maybe some minor bruising, but the pain is too persistent.”
“Mind if I take a look?” He points to the side you’re clearly favoring.
“Sure.” It’s not comfortable, to have another man’s hands on you outside of your job. There’s no trust there, no familiarity like there is with Simon and Johnny, and your body knows it, practically vibrating as he walks his fingers up your scapula. Simon stays close, still with a hand at your back, watching intently.
Dr Fitch holds your elbow, and slowly lifts your arm until you’re telling him to stop, pins and needles radiating through your shoulder and up your neck.
“I think we need an x-ray so we can really see what’s going on.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm.
Fuck.
“I… I think I just need a sling, or an immobilizer for a few weeks. Give it some time to heal.” You try to protest, but he shakes his head.
“I can’t be sure of any of that, without an x-ray.” Oh god. You think you might throw up.
He’s right, though. You know he’s right. You know no good provider in their right mind would sign off on a treatment plan without knowing the extent of an injury. He’s not going to let you dictate what you need.
“Bun.” Simon murmurs, and you blow out a rough breath.
“Okay, fine.”
Dr. Fitch is grim when he reappears almost an hour later, throwing the films up for both you and Simon to see.
You spot what’s soured him immediately, and there’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, the tell-tale sign of Simon noticing it too.
“This side of your body has seen a lot of trauma.” The doctor says gently. He’s not unkind, but still clinical. The kind of provider you’d like you work with, you think. “These old injuries, your clavicle, acromion, even this break in your ulna, make your scapula a very delicate part of your body. I think an MRI would show a fair amount of cartilage damage in these areas.” He motions around your joint, and you close your eyes.
You can’t do this.
If Dr. Fitch sees your unease or panic, he pushes past it. “You have a rotator cuff tear. The good news is, it’s not surgical. I recommend physical therapy for injuries like these, along with activity modification and lots of rest. I want to do a corticosteroid injection for your pain as well. Today, if you’d like. You’ll need to rest your arm for twenty-four hours afterwards, make sure you’re not lifting anything or moving it…” He continues, but you lose track, lose focus, staring at the vinyl tile, weird grey and pink and green patterns all worked together to make some of the ugliest floor you’ve ever seen.
You zone out. Lose yourself. The films mock you, their ugly, horrific images hanging you out to dry, showcasing the truth, the reminders you’ll never be able to escape.
The pieces of you, changed permanently.
It’s hard to look at. Hard to think of.
You’d rather be considering survival. Counting your cash and researching new places to live. New communities to disappear inside, a new life to assume.
It’s easier to run.
You can’t look at Simon. Can't bear the shame. Can't believe he's seeing this, your nightmares on display.
You keep your eyes fixed on the wall.
The girl in the mirror is falling apart. She despises being confronted with your failings, your weakness, the results of your stupidity.
It’s far less common now, these mistakes. These slip ups.
But before… before… they indulged Philip in a beautiful game of cat and mouse. You made it fun, made it exciting. A wolf with his prey. Playing with his food before he eats. Before he strings it up and breaks its collarbone because he likes to hear it scream.
Simon is talking to the provider, asking questions, receiving answers. You can barely hear him. You’re underwater.
The only thing that tethers you to the earth is the hand on your back, the warm, gentle, broad, grounding pressure.
There’s more conversation, and then Dr. Fitch is vacating the room.
Is it time to go?
You try to stand on autopilot, but Simon holds you steady.
“We’re going to do the steroid, for your pain.” He drifts into your line of sight, pulling the mask down. “Bunny, look at me.”
When you can’t, he follows your gaze.
The films come off the wall within the next second, ripped down by the long reach of his arm.
Gone.
“I have to go.” You whisper.
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to get this injection, and then I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”
He doesn’t understand your meaning.
Or maybe he does.
Home. The word rings in your ears like a punch. It’s like you’ve been hit with it, burned with it.
Home.
He’s not forceful, but you still feel the pressure, the insistence. You expect to rail against him. To cower.
Instead, you slip inside it. Allow him to tell you what to do, to make the decision. You fall easily into him, and he holds your hand through it all, while the injection site is swabbed, when the needle goes in. He holds your hand out to the car, holds your hand as he buckles you in. He holds your hand as he tucks you into a bed larger and softer than the one you've been sleeping in. It smells like him and Johnny, soft sheets and pillows piled around you like a wall, false sense of security building every time you twitch, testing where is he is, if he’s left yet.
The last thing you feel before you drift off to sleep is your hand, still in his.
You don't know how long you sleep. You sail in the darkness, navigating turbulent seas, waking every now and then, sometimes alone... sometimes not.
The baby monitor blinks pale green, little circle fuzzy on the edge of your vision, appearing and disappearing throughout the day.
Sometimes the bed is warm. Sometimes it's not.
When it is, you seek him out on instinct, trying to crawl inside his ribs, frantic with your effort to hide, to run. He holds you through it, rocks you gently, tells you you're safe, says you don't have to be afraid anymore, he's here now. He'll take care of you.
There's a rope around your ankle, tied too tight, tethered to the ocean floor. It drags you down, rips you away from him, fills your lungs and silences you.
You didn't make it.
All you can see behind closed lids is those films. All you can feel is the phantom ache in your limbs, the remnants of a shadow, still living and breathing inside of you.
The girl in the mirror is silent. Nothing to say for once in her life, she weeps like her chest is being carved open, sobs and screams pouring out in a flood.
I know you'll be here when I get back, won't you?
The house is vibrant today.
Lou has been here, stocking the fridge, precooking some meals, and her husband is helping Simon rearrange the living room, moving pieces of the couch to be more accessible, laughing back and forth quietly. Occasionally, he stops into the kitchen where you’re seated next to Pen in her highchair, checking in, but never encroaching.
He doesn’t get too close, right now. You’re still underwater somewhere, lost in a current. You’re here, but not really, silently drifting like a ghost, watching and waiting for something or someone to shake you out of it.
Simon hasn’t yet, but he’s watching. Always.
He’s intentionally careful, loud. Announcing himself everywhere he goes in the house, telling you everything he’s doing.
You didn’t understand why at first. Didn’t realize you hadn’t spoken in eight hours, and then ten, then twelve.
Trapped in a tomb of yourself, locked away with the girl in the mirror.
Guilt burns like a wildfire.
This should be a happy time. A wonderful time.
But all you’re doing is making a mess of their life.
Lou, thankfully, doesn’t push you either. She’s content to let you sit there, next to Pen. She keeps an eye out, glancing over at you occasionally, but your placating smiles seem to satisfy her.
Simon steps in front of the counter, ducking his head down to catch your eyes. “I’m going to pick Johnny up.” Somewhere, in the pits of hell, excitement blooms. Happiness tries to sprout. “Do you want to come?” Definitely not. They’ll certainly clap him out, and there’s no way you can be there for that.
“No, I’m… okay.”
“Okay. Penny is coming with me, but John and Lou are staying here. Kyle is coming by. If Johnny’s feeling up to it, I’m hoping to do dinner all together.” Acid is tossed around, tempestuous in your stomach. Lou smiles around his side.
“Want to watch something while we wait?”
“Sure.” She disappears down the hall, saying something to John, and Simon slowly pulls Pen from her chair, kissing her cheek and nose before cradling her to his chest. She’s not a small baby, but in his hold, she’s tiny, soft and delicate, content in her dad’s arms, still a little sleepy from her afternoon nap.
“We’ll be back soon.” He whispers, turning to go.
Your hand whips forward instinctively, out of control.
It latches onto his.
“Simon. I’m… I’m sorry.” You’re sorry you’re ruining everything. You’re sorry you’re fucked up beyond belief, you’re sorry he had to see all that in the doctor’s office, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry.
He squeezes. “Shhh, hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He shifts, still holding Penny, but stooping down to crouch at your knees, his own popping with effort. “It’s okay, if you have to go somewhere else for a little while up there, as long as you're not lost in it.” He motions to your head. “Nothing has changed. We’re still right here, everything is alright. Huh, Penny girl?” He bounces her, and she shrieks out a giggle, reaching for his face. He kisses her hands like he’s trying to eat them, rumble in his voice making her squeal, and he catches your faint smile. “There she is.” He kisses your forehead. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
You hear Johnny before you see him.
There’s a scrape of crutches, his voice animated, talking to his baby, Penny giggling wildly outside on the walk. Lou and John exchange a comfortable smile, and she manages to get the door open before Simon can get his key in the lock.
“Welcome home!” She exclaims, and Penny squeaks, clapping excitedly. She’s wriggly, wanting to get down immediately upon crossing the threshold, but Simon holds her firm, turned around so Lou can snap their picture.
“Ach, Price, can ye do somethin’-“ Johnny laments, but the captain only laughs and looks on.
“Hey! Come on, you’ll want this, later. I promise. Look over here.” They’re picture perfect, Penny cradled between them, Johnny’s hair moved out of his face, his posture a little slouched because of his hip and leg. His head rests on Simon’s shoulder, an arm stretched across his middle, right under Penny, who glows from her perch, the center of attention.
An ache unfurls in the middle of your chest, a sore spot, growing, spreading through your body.
They’re so lovely, it hurts. This moment is beautiful, a homecoming, a story of survival and perseverance. Johnny’s strength and determination. Doing something you know a lot of people initially doubted.
The dark spot of pain passes, fleeting.
Johnny’s eyes find yours. “Ye goin’ make me hobble all the way over there?” He teases, and you shake your head.
The two of you can only give half hugs, but you make it work, holding onto him, fingers fisted in the back of his shirt.
“Welcome home.” You whisper in his ear, and he pulls away, notching his forehead against yours. His eyes glitter, heavy, trembling breath filtering through his nose, and he kisses you slowly, so painfully slowly it’s like you’re the only one in the entire house, in the whole world.
“You too, bunny.”
Dinner is lively. Kyle arrives shortly before it’s time to sit down, greetings and warm wishes passed around as everyone gets settled, Penny positioned in highchair between the guys with mashed potatoes and peas already scooped onto her tray. Johnny’s on your left, with Lou on your right, and Simon sits at the head of the table, across from who you realize now, is his old, or kind of still, boss.
He looks perfect there, half turned towards Pen and Johnny, radiantly smiling at his partner and daughter, trying again and again to catch your eye. Johnny's knee stays steady against yours, fingertips occasionally brushing your thigh, and the two of them try to draw you in, pull you towards them, over and over.
Conversation flows easily. They’re all talking, laughing, swapping stories, poking at one another. Kyle tells you about a time he fell out of a helicopter, and they all tease Johnny about nearly dying this time, or a different time, you can’t be too sure.
“Ye jus’ wish ye had the natural ability I do.” He sniffs, and Kyle chortles, struggling to swallow his food.
“I’d probably be dead, mate.”
“’Cause ye cannae handle it!” He retorts, and Simon laughs, causing Penny to giggle too, and then the entire table erupts in it, attention redirected, cooing at the adorable girl with mashed potatoes smeared on her face. Johnny and Simon fuss over her, a perfect family in unison.
There’s a whining, buzzing noise in the back of your head. It’s an off-key tenor, annoying and coarse, like the snag of rough skin texture against a soft sweater.
What are you doing here?
The world, this room, these people, spin and spiral around you. Talking, laughing, loving. Making connections with each other, feeling the warmth of love and friendship, of happiness.
The buzzing gets louder.
You’re vaguely in it now, still seated but not here, not anywhere. You’re drifting, falling away, slipping behind walls and layers, hiding.
The girl in the mirror approves.
What makes you think you have any right to be here? What makes you think you could ever possibly belong here? With them? With their friends? Their family?
You’re an intruder.
You’re risking their safety. You’re making a mistake.
Lou boasts a sharp laugh, and you nearly flinch.
You don’t belong here. You’re supposed to be alone. It was supposed to be okay, to be alone.
You’re selfish.
Simon reaches for Johnny’s hand, stretching across Penny’s spot, eyes heavy with love. There’s so much in his expression alone, dedication, devotion, borderline obsession bleeding through, and he holds Johnny like he’s holding his lifeline.
You’ll never be loved like that, known like that, cherished and protected… like that.
And why should you be?
You’re standing before you announce it, trying to hold yourself together. Both guys look to you, Simon’s expression changing from amusement and love to worry and concern, while Johnny mirrors it, and tries to grab your hand.
“Ye alright?”
“Bun?”
“I’m fine, just… uh. My stomach.” You lie, motioning away from the table, like it makes any sense. You excuse yourself quickly, apologizing, and practically run up the stairs.
The guest bathroom door locks, and you slide down against the tub, slumping over to rest your cheek on cold tile. “Fuck.” You whisper, rubbing at your cheeks. What is wrong with you?
You lay there long enough that your shoulder starts to hurt. Everything aches, your heart too, and wipe your cheeks over and over, trying to regain control of a sinking ship.
God, you really, really hope they aren’t mad you bailed.
The bed is your only option, your only salvation, and you sink into without fuss, burying yourself beneath a pile of blankets, hiding yourself away from the world.
At least when you sleep, you can’t think.
At least when you sleep, you can’t feel.
“Philip, please.”
“You made a fucking fool of me tonight.” He grips your upper arm so tight it feels like he’s cutting into your flesh, branding you, burning you down to the bone.
“No, I- I wasn’t trying to, I swear.”
“I think you were, spitfire. I think you wanted to see me sweat, didn’t you? Wanted to play a little game, huh?”
“No!” you’re crying, chest heaving with giant sobs, and his fist tightens in your hair, dragging you down to the ground. “No, Philip, stop. Stop!”
“Shut up.” You’re crawling on your knees, trying to keep pace, trying to stay in stride with him as he tugs, practically pulling you down the hallway to the bedroom.
Once he gets there, he jerks you upwards.
The hardwood floor is the next thing you see as your face crashes into it.
“S-stop.” You’re barely audible, buried in sobs. He mocks you.
“Stoooop, babe. Stop please.” Your arms cover your head, trying to protect your delicate bones there, your skull, your nose, your cheeks.
His foot rears back.
The world goes cold.
“NO!” you jerk your knees up to your chest, rolling away. “No! I’m pregnant!”
You think he’ll be happy. You think he’ll be pleased.
Instead, it’s raw, concentrated fury you see lining his face, lightning and thunder gathering in his eyes.
“You’re what?”
You come to trembling, coated in a cold sweat.
It’s okay. He’s not here. He’s not. You’re safe.
You clasp a hand over your mouth to ward off the volume of the sob, nausea rising until you’re almost gagging.
It’s okay.
You can do this. Get it together.
Time ticks away, but the agony of your memory, your nightmare, doesn’t fade. It settles in your bones like a sickness, infecting your mind and heart, keeping you from closing your eyes.
You can’t go back there. Not in real life. Not in your dreams. Not ever.
You would die before that happened.
Johnny and Simon sleep down the hall. You wonder if they’re wrapped up together, if Johnny is comfortable, if their room is cozy and homey, bed heavenly and full of love.
You could…
No.
The clock on your phone reads three in the morning. You feel like you haven’t slept at all, but every time you try to close your eyes, dread spreads, tenebrous and sticky, clinging to every synapse in your logical brain.
You eye the door.
You could…
Should you? Would they be mad? Would they welcome you? Would they even answer?
You don’t know how you convince yourself to do it, to drag your weak will down the hall and knock on their door, but you do. You’re a child the whole way, padding up to a parent’s room in the middle of the night, looking for salvation and sanctuary, desperate for comfort.
It takes almost no time after your timid little rap for the door to swing wide, Simon standing behind it, little lamp flicked on where Johnny is half sitting up, mostly still asleep, rubbing his eyes.
“Hi.” You whisper, distracted by Simon’s naked chest. He’s wearing sweatpants, but they’re slung low on his hips, soft tummy with wispy light brown hair peeking out above the drawstring. You think you’re staring, and you force a blink, trying to appear normal.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing, I just… I had a nightmare and…I… I can’t…” the rest doesn’t come out, laying heavy on your tongue, trying to organize itself so it doesn’t seem so intrusive, or weak.
He doesn’t make you feel bad. Or guilty. He doesn’t even ask, he just steps aside, motioning to bed, clicking the door shut behind him.
“Take the middle.” He whispers, and you crawl across the expanse, timidly smiling at Johnny, who’s still yawning. He’s got his bad leg and hip set up on a bunch of pillows, and the spot next to him is still warm.
“Hey pretty girl.”
“Hi.” He pats the empty space, shoving the blankets down to the best of his ability to let you get underneath them.
“Bad dream?” He drawls, slow and sleepy.
“Yeah.”
“C’mere.” He tries to tug you closer, but Simon scolds him softly.
“Johnny, easy. Your graft.” He turns, sliding, encouraging you to settle on your side, with him at your back. “There we go. That’s better, hm?” It is better. So much better. Warm and safe. Blocked in on either side by them, your hand resting on Johnny’s sternum, grounding yourself with the rise and fall of his breathing, Simon nestling you into his chest, heavy arm slung across your ribs to hold Johnny’s hand.
It's so nice, tucked between them like you belong there, things start to spiral a little bit, doubt and worry fueling a cycle of second guessing. You shift restlessly, and Simon rubs your hip, soothing whatever he senses amiss back to neutral, lips humming just above your ear. “Close your eyes, little bunny. We’re here. You’re safe.”
#peaches writes#simple math#ghoap x reader#ghost x reader x soap#ghost x soap x reader#simon riley#john mactavish#simon riley x reader#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghost x reader
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Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)
BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?
Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.
#good omens#neil gaiman#brian levine#neil the gould standard 2023#interview#neil interview#videos#fun fact#gos2#season 2#2ep6#s2 interview
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hey hitman fandom, is it normal to hear footsteps in the snow behind u on the sniper assassin mission in siberia???? that happened literally right before I failed the mission and it kinda. genuinely freaked me out ngl;;
#hitman#hitman 2#hitman 3#i thought it'd be nice to mix up my gameplay a bit with the sniper missions but i'm super bad at them#and like idk . the footstep thing didn't seem Normal#i'm alone on a mountaintop like. REALLY far from where everyone else is there shouldn't have been footstep sounds#i had both my earphones in too so i was Fully Immersed#and wasn't expecting to get Spooked like that kjhdfg#anyway.#I Did Not Like That#spectre says
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CoD Wedding Headcannons
Some sweet love for our boys, hoping to cheer anyone up after MW3. While the photos do have fem/wedding dresses in them, I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible!
I hope everyone can enjoy!
Price
Getting married to Price warrants an old Hollywood glamour, something more intimate and small for the people you both hold close, so you can make memories of the long-awaited night while being able to relax in good nature of the celebration.
You both decided to find a nice speakeasy for both the ceremony and reception, as Price had surprised you and rented out the entire venue. The soft and warm glow of candles and old lights casted a romantic light on you, showing the etheral glow to you.
Price is a traditional man, and decided to save his first look to seeing you walk down the aisle. As your eyes lock onto his, he sniffles and the distinct tell of his moustance twitching is what keys you in on him being able to feel comfortable showing his emotions as he hones his ice blue eyes on you.
He did in fact, make quite the show for your first kiss, taking you in his arms and giving you a gentle but deep dip, showing off the romantic (almost steamy) touch of your lips as you lock in your unity.
Your first dance is a slow sway in circles, focused on whispering sweet nothings to each other in between the kisses you reach up to give him. Saving the absolute last dance for both of you, as the clock strikes into midnight and the day is now Sunday, Etta James' Sunday Kind of Love plays out softly as you sway together before heading up to your honeymoon suite.
Vows:
"My angel, you have been everything I believed I never deserved. You have shown me what I have always been missing, the love that I never knew of. I know I will never be able to amount to the thankfulness of you sticking by me through and through, I will never stop thanking the heavens of the gold and glory that you are, as you run through my veins to find your home in my heart.
Just as I fought by your side on the field, I promise to fight for our love, to shield it from any harm that may come its way. Through the scars and wounds we bear, both seen and unseen, I vow to cherish every part of you. Your strength, your vulnerability, your laughter, and your tears - they are all precious to me. Our love is a force that any creature made by god would fear, as I know we are forever to be unstoppable together, through every small and great task.
Together, we will conquer any obstacle that stands in our way. I promise to never forget the sacrifices made; honoring our fallen, for they have paved and protected the way for our love. They watch over us, guiding us, and reminding us to cherish every moment we have. I love you, with every last being of myself, and even past my last breath. Forever and always, angel."
Gaz
Gaz has a flair for the dramatics and also loves a fairytale and nature aesthetic. He requested a fairytale wedding, and it was an extravagant night for the two of you. Gaz values some traditions but was ready to blow those to the wind for his excitement to celebrate your love. You did a first look, and he was rendered speechless as he took in your form, tears already pooling and beginning to stream down his face.
Gaz took the time with you to learn a ballroom dance for your first song, impressing your guests and even yourselves with how beautiful and magical the two of you are. Cutting the cake was a very sweet moment for the two of you, as you both happened to have the same thought and booped each other on the nose with icing at the same moment.
Your wedding was held in a mountaintop venue, the night sky showing all the stars that shined brightly and reflected on a lake, approving of your love as if the faries make an appearance for your royal court of a wedding. As you danced the night away, Kyle was sure to keep a mix of whispering the most heart warming sweet nothings, and making sure to catch your reaction by the photographers when he murmured sinfully sweet thoughts in your ear.
Vows:
"Through the chaos and uncertainty, you became my anchor, guiding me with your strength and infectious spirit. Together, we have faced the darkest of days, and it is in those moments that our love has grown stronger. When I look into your eyes, I see a reflection of my hopes, dreams, and desires.
Your love has breathed life into my soul, and I vow to nourish that love with tenderness and compassion. I promise to be your confidant, your partner, and your best friend, as your happiness is everything that can and will continue to let my heartbeat to our special song. I promise to be the keeper of your dreams, the one who will protect and nourish you from any challenges we face, always together.
You are my life; I will walk beside you, hand in hand, supporting you in every step. You are the greatest reward life has ever, granted me. With every beat of my heart, I will love you fiercely, unconditionally, and without reservation, for you are the missing piece that completes me."
Soap
Johnny was all for having a fun and colorful wedding, and a maximalist and retro decor was decided on. Because for a MacTavish? Go big or go home baby.
He never stopped smiling the day of your wedding, his astonishment at the environment and scene of your unity never leaving his face. You decided to read your vows privately to each other, holding hands and having your backs to each other while waiting to have your first look down the aisle. Under disco balls, your first dance felt like something out of a movie.
Johnny was one to always show off, and he was sure to spin and dip you around, his strength holding you as he even lifted you and twirled you around. Now as a real MacTavish, you both knew how to throw a party and made sure that your open bar helped your guests get as wild as you two are.
If you did decide to wear a garter, or simply put one on for the tradition, Johnny made a damn great show of taking it off; crawling underneath your dress/between your legs and made you squeak in embarrassment as his stuble tickled your thigh.
Vows:
"Today, I stand before you, to pledge my undying love. You, my little sparrow, have held my attention, obsession, and heart from the moment our eyes met. I promise to always have your back, whether we're dodging bullets or just trying to figure out what to have for dinner. With you, life is an adventure, and I can't wait to tackle it together.
I promise to be your partner in crime for life, always up for exploring new horizons and creating memories we’ll never live down, But as long as we're together, every moment will be an adventure worth cherishing.
You bring laughter and lightness to my life, even in the darkest of times. Your smile is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds. Life is too short to not enjoy the simple pleasures, and with you by my side, every moment is a treasure.
I vow to keep the flames of passion alive, As Our love is a fire that burns bright, even amidst the chaos. I promise to keep the spark alive, to always pursue you with the same determination and intensity that challenges the forces of this earth."
Ghost
Simon was enthusiastic to have a wedding that featured a dark and mystical aesthetic. He wanted something small and private, requesting that it be some of your closest friends and family to spend the special night together.
With a romantic and dark church, it was a powerful and mystical wedding that incorporates both of your energies. You both decided not to have groomsmen/bridesmaids and instead placed altars of your fallen teammates and loved ones under the arch with you two, feeling their love in your unity.
Simon waited for his first look down the aisle but began crying with a wavering voice during your vows. During the first dance, he lifted you to stand atop of his feet, holding you as he moved the both of you in a surprising fashion of a waltz, elegantly for the seasoned stealth veteran.
His eyes seemed to swim with tears, iris' almost as black as his pupils in the dark lit church and ballroom. His eyes were rarely straying from you, far to enamored with keeping every memory to be held in his soul- even in the next life.
Vows:
"From the darkness where death once consumed us, to the light that now shines through our love, I stand here today, my heart laid bare, to vow my eternal devotion to you. In the face of danger, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, our love has blossomed like a fragile flower, defying all odds. Today, I stand here, a silent guardian, to pledge my undying love and devotion to you. In our promise, my heart will always yearn for your touch, laughter, and the warmth of your presence.
Through the pain and loss we have endured, I promise to cherish every memory we share. Your laughter, your touch, your soul - they are etched into the very fabric of my existence. I will hold you as tenderly as the spirits did when creating you, as you are a gift that I will forever cherish. In this broken world, I vow to mend any pieces of your heart, to hold you close when the weight of the past becomes too heavy to bear.
I will be your strength when you feel weak, your rock when you need stability. With you, I have found a love that mends the scars of the past."
Graves
Phillip desired a venue within the wilderness and countryside, deciding that a farm with a Barn reception was perfect. His vows were as strong as his commands, his voice was deep and rich with honey, and maybe a few tears, as he spoke his heart out to you and let the crowd hear just how much you have changed him into a loving man.
You partook in “burying the bourbon,” planting a favorite bottle in the ground of your wedding venue, one month prior. Once dug out, you intertwined arms and took shots all night, the heat of the drink and your love enveloping you both. two-stepping through the night on the dance floor, he twirled you expertly and dipped you low to the ground before always leaving a kiss on your lips.
It was during the ceremony that he surprised you, having ordered a mechanical bull for you and the guests to ride. Taking you and himself on the first ride, you laughed so hard you cried at how silly, but fun it was.
Taking you to the airport after the wedding, he had a classic American car with a "Just Married" sign on the back. And of course, the Shadows were your escort to the airport.
Vows:
"My sweetheart, from the moment our stubborn hearts crossed paths, I sensed a connection deeper than what ties us to this life. I will be a guardian of our love, ensuring that it shines brightly in every step I take, and every breath I draw, as you are the whisper that breathes into my greatest devotion.
In the depths of my soul, and the depths of you, I promise to carry our love of shared laughter, whispered promises, and the unspoken bond that will forever be the piece that grounds me in this realm. I vow to live a life worthy of the love you bless me with, to carry forward the lessons you teach me, and to honor the sacrifices we have made to make it this far, together.
Your courage, compassion, and unwavering loyalty will forever inspire me, my angel, whom I vow to cherish and love and you beat your wings to the pulse of my heart.
As I walk this Earth with you by my side, I know that we will be forever united no matter the realm we are in. As our love knows no boundaries, and as we exchange these vows, we will be together, holding each other in a timeless embrace. To the moon and farther, you are my saving grace. ”
Alejandro
Alejandro was excited to celebrate your commitment and love to each other, already planning a massive celebration between each other's families, friends, and Los Vaqueros, who helped set up your beautiful wedding. In true Vaquero fashion, the Wedding Lasso Ceremony was incorporated.
By a thick cord of white rope, the priest tied it around you two in an infinity shape and blessed your unity to eternity. As he read his vows to you, Alejandro tried very hard to not cry but in the last paragraph (and from hearing his own mother’s soft sniffles in the crowd) he had a quiet sob while his eyes found yours, reciting the lines from his heart.
As the ceremony concluded, you and Alejandro rode your horses down the streets of the town, waving and smiling at all who had come out to shout and cheer for your parade of love in La Callejoneada, many throwing rice and flower petals towards you two in a token of celebration. Your wedding was held in an orchard of Mango trees, the meaning of affection and adoration not.
Vows:
"Mi Amor, as we stand together, I vow to be the person you deserve, to love you unconditionally, and to be a witness to your growth and transformation. Our love is a flame that burns brightly, illuminating the path before us, and I am grateful to walk it by your side.
In your eyes, I find the force that drives me to be what you deserve, as you are the most sacred thing to ever cross the path of my heart. Eres mi existencia, la luz que hace que mi sangre lata en mi corazón como siempre ha sido el tuyo. (You are my existence, the light that makes my blood beat into my heart as it has always been yours.)
Mi Vida, in you, I have found a sanctuary where I can be myself, unburdened by the weight of the world. I vow to be your shelter and support, and together, we will create a haven of love and understanding, where we can always find solace and rejuvenation.
Desde este día en adelante, caminaremos juntos por el sendero de la vida, enfrentando los desafíos con valentía y compartiendo las risas y los sueños. Mi amor por ti trasciende las palabras y se manifiesta en cada gesto, en cada mirada, y en cada latido de mi corazón."
(From this day forward, we will walk the path of life together, facing challenges with courage and sharing laughter and dreams. My love for you transcends words and is manifested in every gesture, in every look, and in every beat of my heart.)
Rudy
Rodolfo was ready for a celebration but wanted to keep it intimate to your closest family and friends, and of course, Los Vaqueros as well. You both chose a beautiful wedding venue next to the beach, having the white decorations tied into the beautiful white sand and blue ocean water.
Exchanging Las Arras matrimoniales proved to be heartwarming as the priest and los padrinos y madrinas made sure you felt the love as you became a Parra, a member of their family. You were surprised as Rudy managed to only have his eyes water during his vows but his voice wavered, and he had to clear his throat multiple times while reading them aloud.
That didn’t stop his voice from showing his conviction and devotion; entering the reception, Rudy placed you on a lone chair in the middle of the dance floor and lined up with his men and a mariachi band. Under the sunset, he serenaded you. His voice rang out richly and perfectly, causing tears to stream down your face as your hand laid over your heart to try and keep it still.
Vows:
“Mi Cielo, your presence in my life has been like a symphony, each note perfectly harmonizing with the next. Together, we have created a melody that resonates deep within me. You have become my muse, my inspiration, and the beat of my soul.
Mi Corazón, prometo nutrir nuestro amor como una flor delicada, cuidándolo con cuidado y devoción. Así como un compositor cultiva su obra maestra, yo me haré cargo de nuestro amor, colmándolo de cariño, comprensión y respeto. Nuestro amor florecerá, irradiando su belleza al mundo. (My Heart, I promise to nourish our love like a delicate flower, tending to it with care and devotion. Just as a composer cultivates his masterpiece, I will take charge of our love, showering it with affection, understanding and respect. Our love will blossom, radiating its beauty to the world.)
Our love is a masterpiece, and I promise to protect it with all my being. As we embark on this journey together, I vow to always walk beside you, hand in hand, navigating the twists and turns that life may bring. Our love will be the melody that carries us through, and with you by my side, I am confident that we can conquer anything. En este día y todos los días venideros, me comprometo a amarte con cada fibra de mi ser. (On this day and every day to come, I commit to loving you with every fiber of my being.)
Our love is a melody that sings of devotion and commitment, and I am honored to be the one who shares this beautiful symphony with you.”
König
While planning your wedding, König asked for a deal between you two for the ceremony. If you granted him a private elopement, he would deliver the wedding of your dreams. Deliver he did, as he picked a literal castle for your venue. An enchanting and historic architecture with plants adding to the mystical feel, he made you feel as decadent as two rulers who are together forever more and uniting two kingdoms.
He chose to speak his vows privately to you, with a camera pointed towards you to watch as you both had tears running down your faces at the words spoken softer than any feeling your heart has ever felt before. However, he knew that a party was needed to celebrate your love, so the reception was held in a ballroom that overlooked the forest.
As a man who values his heritage, you and König had a private ‘Brautraub’ where you hid within the castle, waiting for him to figuratively seek and kidnap you as a symbol of starting a new portion of your life with him as he (literally) swept you off your feet and into his arms.
Vows:
"Mein Schätz, our love is vital as the bond between two rulers has created a kingdom of love and unity that reigns within our souls. You are the crown of my life, the sun that illuminates my kingdom. With you, I have experienced the true meaning of love and devotion as you have captured my heart, forever I will honor and protect you, as you are my guiding star that will lead me to my heaven.
Mein Liebling, ich gelobe, unsere Liebe wie ein kostbares Juwel zu hegen und sie mit Hingabe und Aufmerksamkeit zu pflegen. Ich gelobe, unsere Liebe immer zu nähren und sie stärker zu machen als einen funkelnden Diamanten, denn niemand wird jemals meine Hingabe an Dich schmälern. (My darling, I vow to cherish our love like a precious jewel and to nurture it with devotion and attention. I vow to always nourish our love and make it stronger than a sparkling diamond, for no one will ever diminish my devotion to you.)
Meine Sonne und Sterne, I vow to cherish and nurture our bond with tenderness and care. Like a king protects his kingdom, I will guard our love fiercely, shielding it from harm. Our love will stand as a beacon of hope, one that is a testament of royalty, radiating its warmth and beauty to all who witness its majestic journey. Ich liebe dich für immer.”
(Meine Sonne und Sterne = My Sun and my Stars. Ich liebe dich für immer = I love you, forever.)
#task force 141#cod mw2#call of duty#captain john price#call of duty modern warfare#john price#john price x reader#los vaqueros#phillip graves#tf141#john soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#soap cod#kyle garrick#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick#simon riley ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost cod#commander graves#alejandro vargas#rodolfo parra#rudy parra#los vaqueros x reader#konig x reader#konig mw2#konig call of duty#modern warfare 3#modern warfare 2
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Genshin Men in Relationships (SFW)
There are characters I left out lmk if anyone would like a version for them as well!
1.8k words
Alhaitham
♡Everything this man does is calculated
♡From the moment he saw you he knew he had to plan to win you over
♡Usually, his intellect is enough to impress but you were different
♡You didn't see him as a brain you saw him as a person
♡Not only were his thoughts valued but his feelings mattered to you
♡Alhaitham had never been treated that way before and because of that he will make you the happiest person on the planet
♡He likes to share what he knows with you and likes to sit you down with a cup of tea as he goes over his findings and ideas
♡Absolutely loves to hear your thoughts and opinions
♡A common date spot for you two is on a blanket in the forest
♡He enjoys setting up picnics where you can enjoy nature and be alone
♡He has never missed an important day and does a surprisingly good job at planning celebrations
♡For a man who comes across as cold and unfeeling, he takes a lot of time finding the things that you like and including them in all aspects of life
Arataki Itto
♡This ball of energy naturally makes one of the best boyfriends
♡Everything he does is full of passion and care
♡He includes you in everything he does as he wants to 1) have you by his side at all times and 2) needs someone to wheel him back in when he starts getting out of hand
♡You are slightly more level-headed than he is so it works out
♡He likes to compete with you turning mundane tasks into a race or seeing who can eat more in one sitting
♡It's all for fun and no matter who wins or loses you both are in good spirits
♡Arataki Itto is a handsy lover who always wants to have some level of physical contact with you
♡He holds your hand, has you on his lap, piggyback rides, or will fall asleep on you
♡He absolutely adores you, seeing you is like watching a sunrise no matter what is going on seeing you brings a smile to his face
♡Very playful and enjoys lovingly teasing you
♡Big on holding things above your head knowing that you cannot reach it
♡He never does anything maliciously, he just adores the look on your face when you’re slightly grumpy
Diluc
♡One of the most protective lovers available
♡He is not overbearing but he is not letting anyone lay a finger on you
♡Diluc is a little gruff but he cares about you very deeply
♡Part of protecting you is spoiling you
♡Dates with him are dinners with the most beautiful scenery
♡You will be presented with random gifts almost daily so prepare for that
♡Nothing is too good for you
♡Big fan of walking with you around his property
♡It allows for the enjoyment of nature while having absolute privacy with you
♡Diluc is the kind of lover to sit with you on a mountaintop while watching the sunset but the entire time his eyes never leave you
♡There is no view that can top your beauty he is sure of that and while those words may never leave his mouth you know this every time you catch him staring at you
♡You are the most important thing in the world to him. Each day he will do what needs to be done to keep you with him
Kaeya
♡The two of you share an enemies-to-lovers story as you could not stand each other when you first met
♡This went on for a few weeks until Jean had enough of your fighting and forced you two to patrol the same very small area
♡When you two heard each other out you found that you both had a lot in common
♡Since then, Kaeya does not leave your side
♡He likes to constantly try to impress you
♡You could be together for years and he would still be the suave man who comes in to save the day
♡He is like Diluc in the sense that he is protective but he also gets slightly jealous
♡You have this way of drawing everyone’s attention without even realizing it
♡He loves you and cares for you deeply so he will get over his jealousy as he never wants you to feel like you are doing something wrong
♡You are his and he is the one you choose to be with every day, knowing that brings a smile to his face without fail
Neuvillette
♡Meeting you was the best day of Neuvillette’s life
♡took him a while to warm up to you but he could not stay away
♡Seeing your smile took away the pain he has carried in his heart for so long
♡He is a serious man but caring
♡He likes to keep his work and you completely separate, this being said he will always make time for you
♡Never will he forget a date with you, Neuvillette makes you his priority in life and treats you like royalty
♡Enjoys speaking with you he finds that the times when you two get lost in conversation are the times he feels the closest to you
♡While he is not big on PDA behind closed doors you are held in his arms
♡He keeps you close to him as he has a fear that he will lose you one day so having his arms around you calms him
♡Surprisingly he’s a nickname guy but not your typical nickname, he gives you one based on your name and personality
♡It’s one way he shows his care for you, by calling you a name that comes from a place of love and meaning
Tartaglia
♡Being with him is always an adventure
♡There is always something to do and somewhere to go
♡No matter what he’s up to you will be kept safe
♡Childe will never put you in harm's way but he does want to show you all aspects of life
♡He’s not supposed to tell you everything but he does, you are the love of his life he can’t keep secrets from you
♡You are treated to the best of everything with him
♡If there is anything you want he will get it for you no matter what it takes
♡Seeing you happy is the best gift he has ever received
♡He would prefer to keep you out of business to an extent, you would be with him wherever he went but you are not getting anywhere near the action
♡If anything happened to you he would not know how to cope
♡Good thing for you Tartaglia has everything figured out and knows how to show his lover the world without letting them get hurt
♡Your life is filled with excitement and you don’t get a lot of time to be alone relaxing
♡He figures you two can get to that when you’re old
Thoma
♡Mr. Perfect has been giving you the husband treatment since day one
♡He is so kind and caring to everyone that you didn’t realize he had feelings for you for a while
♡You two were close friends for some time before he made a move to outright tell you his feelings
♡Finding out you felt the same way was like a dream come true for him
♡Thoma was so happy to know that he finally had someone to stand beside him
♡The two of you work together making sure the other load is not too much for them
♡Doing this ensures that neither you nor Thoma burns out with all that you do
♡Date nights are big with him
♡Days are when the work gets done and when the sun sets that’s the time that is reserved for just you
♡He likes to cook with you and would be so happy to teach you
♡Enjoys packing you snacks each morning you thought it was a little childish at first to have a snack pack with you but with all the running around you do you have realized why he started doing it in the first place
♡Keeping you happy and healthy is what he prides himself on
Wriothesley
♡The most loyal lover
♡From the day he met you, he has been determined to improve your life in any way he could
♡He takes his work seriously and it takes a toll on him so knowing that he has you to come home to pushes him through it
♡Wriothesley wants to keep you far away from his work as he will not risk anything ever happening to you
♡Yes he knows you are capable of handling yourself but why would he ever want you to have to struggle
♡He treasures the time he spends with you and does not care what the activity is as long as the two of you are together
♡He enjoys relaxing in the countryside lying in the grass with you just as much as he enjoys the rare opportunity of laying in bed and having a lazy morning with you
♡Big fan of making you breakfast
♡He will wake you up when he is done with breakfast even if it is super early because he knows what the rest of his day is going to entail and he would like to start off with seeing your face and sharing a meal with you
♡Loves to be able to come home and find you sleeping in one of his shirts
♡He slides into bed so carefully next to you and wraps his arms around you
♡You are his world and he will always nurture you
Zhongli
♡Zhongli is enjoying the retired life to the max
♡Every day gets to be spent with you doing whatever you want to do
♡He has taken you all over for adventures, sightseeing, and relaxation
♡After being around for so long he knows what the best of everything is
♡Having you and being able to now share that knowledge with someone makes him finally feel complete
♡One of his favorite moments with you was when he took you to his favorite overlook in Liyue, there were flowers growing near where the two of you were sitting, and when you saw them you excitedly ran over to pick one and came back and placed the flower behind his ear
♡He has never experienced someone like you
♡So kind and caring that it was odd to him at first that you were so caring towards him without knowing who he was
♡That is his favorite thing about you, the way you treat people, the kindness you carry in your heart
♡It is a rare quality and something that he now gets to enjoy having in his life
Author's note: Very excited to now have posts for the three main fandoms I will be writing for out! I'm always open to other fandoms and other characters from DMC, HSR, and Gneshin just shoot me a request <3<3
#alhaitham#alhaitam x reader#arataki itto#arataki itto x reader#diluc x reader#genshin diluc#genshin kaeya#kaeya x reader#neuvillette#neuvilette x reader#tartaglia#tartaglia x reader#childe#childe x reader#thoma x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley#zhongli x reader#zhongli#genshin x reader#genshin impact#reqs open
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All Night (Cruel World Pt.2)
Thankfully (for Sanemi's sake) you return from Final Selection alive and well. However, you being apart of the Demon Slayer Corps has his nerves going insane. To assure your safety, you often attend missions alongside him.
word count: 15.150
warning: character death, blood, jealousy, cursing, smut, dark themes, aphrodisiac, anxiety, impregnation kink, mentions of abortion
@roaringlion @kiki17483
Part One | Masterlist | Final Part
You felt old next to the other Final Selection survivors and the thought causes your heart to ache. You were an adult, far from the young age of 14 - the youngest apart of the survivors. To think children join the Demon Slayer Corps and put their lives at risk in order to help others - you wonder how old Sanemi was when he joined. Or Genya - all of the slayers you’ve met.
The morning sun shines bright ahead of you and the other five survivors. Your eyes look forward to the mountaintop shrine, a soft smile forming on your lips at the two children standing before the survivors.
“Welcome back.” they say in Unison. “Congratulations on completing Final Selection. We’re pleased to see that you’re all safe..”
There’s a low sniffle beside you. You hum at the sight - a young boy no older than 16. You recall just how terrified he was to encounter a demon coming at him with such speed that he barely managed to dodge its attack. It was raining that night and the boy's burgundy hair was clouding his vision. You intervene, slashing the demon’s neck. The boy, Shinra, never left your side until now.
“First we must issue you all uniforms once we take your correct measurements.” the dark haired child started.
“Then we’ll engrave your rank on the back of your hand.” the white haired child continued.
“You then will be given the chance to select the ore that will be used to forge your weapon - swords. It will be 10-15 days before said weapons are ready to use.”
The black haired child claps their hands twice. Above you hear several crows, flocking their wings. You're excited, nearly ecstatic. You recall the many times you’ve been berated by Muichiro’s crow and how she loved him dearly that you wished to have your own.
A crow flocks onto your shoulders. It flocks its wings several times before stopping, inspecting your face.
“Now that you all are demon slayers, you are each assigned Kasugai Crows.” the white haired child spoke. “They are used to facilitate communication.”
The black haired child turned away to remove the long, blue cloth that laid above a table.”Now the time has come for you to choose an ore for your sword.” he says, revealing several ore’s for each of you to choose.
“Shinra.” you call to the boy beside you, still sniffling. “Let’s go choose our Ore.”
Shinra’s eyes are wide as you speak to him, but he nods nonetheless. He follows you closely as each of the survivors inspect the ore’s. You yourself are none the wiser choosing an ore. You contemplate having laid your eyes upon an ore and just thought it was another random rock.
“Which one should we choose, Shinra?” you smile at the boy. “I sense…that one,” you point to a medium sized ore. “Is a good fit for me.”
Shinra furrows a burgundy brow, “H-How do you know?” he murmurs.
“I can just feel it.” you respond. You go to grab it.
Shinra’s eyes - a beautiful shade of azure, widen and he too grabs an ore - the one directly next to yours. “Okay.” he nods.
Soon you make your journey back to Sanemi’s estate. Your legs are aching for a break, but you do not allow them to stop. Your kasugai crow, who you learned was named Hiyori, now laid upon your shoulder as you walked. She had since grew tired of flying above you once she realized you had no intention of stopping for the night. How could you? You passed Final Selection and now was an actual Demon Slayer.
The sky was now a dark violet color when you arrived back at the estate. You had many people to see - you agreed to visit Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho once you returned. You grew close with the young girls, often visiting them when you didn’t have to train until you dropped. You would have to thank Uzui, Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma for your combat training; Muichiro (and Ginko because she wouldn’t allow you to not acknowledge her if you met with him). Mitsuri promised you pancakes one you returned and you were craving them with extra honey - her western cooking was the best you’ve ever had.
You opened the shoji doors of Sanemi’s estate. It’s quiet inside and doesn’t appear to have anyone in it. You make your way around the estate and hum, Sanemi was not here.
You didn’t let the fact bother you. Sanemi was a hashira after all and had responsibilities. He could possibly be doing his rounds before he returned home.
You take this time to bathe, allowing all the grime to be released from your skin was refreshing. You’re unsure how long you’ve bathed for, but once your hands begin to wrinkle was when you decided to get out. You were refreshed now, dressed now in a light kimono tied loosely and your hair in a low bun.
You decide to do another round around the estate for Sanemi. You can hear them - faint footsteps.It’s coming from the opposite side of the mansion. Your feet begin to sprint across the cold hardwood floor, a wide smile on your lips.
Sanemi was here, you note, dressed in his usual Hashira attire. He appeared to have just came in from his rounds as you suspected.
“Nemi!” you exclaim, jumping to wrap your arms around the man. He doesn’t move back an inch, even with the impact of you crashing into him.
Sanemi’s nostrils fill with your scent - the familiar scent that he had longed to smell for the last week. His nerves begin to calm themselves at your touch, unaware that since you've been gone that he was unable to focus on anything but your survival.
“I’m back from Final Selection!” your heart is pumping with excitement. “I even have my own crow like you all! Her name’s Hiyori!” you continue to babble on and on about everything that happened during your week, still wrapping him in a tight embrace.
Your face then crashes into his chest and you’re silent. Sanemi doesn’t notice it at first - he assumes you were overwhelmed with emotions to fully focus on one topic at a time. But then his bare chest feels it. Wet - were you crying?
Sanemi gets his answer when your shoulders shake and his chest appears to be even more wet. He gulps, unsure on what to do. Why were you suddenly crying? Sanemi didn’t deal with emotions well. He hated when the lower ranks would cry, it irritated him to no end. It didn’t help either that they were often crying because of him - but that's besides the point.
Sanemi places a hand upon your head. “Y/N…” he trails off. “What’s wrong?”
Your face lifts to look at Sanemi. There it was again - the jolt. He hadn’t felt the jolt in his heart in a week and swears he was cured of whatever sickness he had. Your eyes are teary and wet, lashes sticking to one another.
“I’m so happy!” you sob, lips quivering.
Happy?
You were crying because you were happy?
Sanemi’s shoulders falter and now, he finds himself wanting to laugh.
“I’m happy that I passed Final Selection and you didn’t waste your time training me.” you continue, wiping your tears away with your shoulder so you wouldn’t have to unwrap your arms from Sanemi. “I’m happy I was given the opportunity to make my own decision and not be fated to one.” you’re continuing to ramble on about how happy you truly were - claiming to be happy to be surrounded by such positive people even if they were working in less than positive situations.
You do end up unwrapping your arms around Sanemi to fall to your knees. You’re bowing before him, tears not stopping. “Thank you, Sanemi.”
Sanemi gasps, but he doesn’t stiffen. “Y/N, you don’t-”
“I’m grateful that I’ve gotten to train besides you and the other Hashira and slayers.” you’re sobbing full on now, dramatic tears leaking onto the floor. “I promise to make you proud as your tsuguko! I’ll do my best on all my missions!”
Sanemi inhales. His heart is beating rapidly and he’s unsure how to respond to you. To think that he, a Hashira of many years now and had fought demons upon demons…was going to die now due to heart failure. He hoped that Shinobu and Aoi would be the first two to cry at his funeral for denying him (a fucking Hashira at that) service.
Sanemi’s mind wanders. He’s happy, as well, he supposes. Genya was alive and well, even if he refused to look his brother's way, he often kept tabs on him. Sorai would tell him everything Genya did when he wasn’t on missions. You were alive now, as well. Overly emotional and grateful as ever. Sanemi finds himself silently thanking whatever God there was out there that you wouldn’t be yet another death on his conscience.
Sanemi slams the door of the butterfly mansion open, a feral look upon his face. Naho jumps, her braids swinging around towards the sound. Kiyo’s eyes widen at Sanemi while Sumi quivers. “Where’s Kocho or Kanzaki?” he hisses at the three girls.
“S-Shinobu-san said-”
“I do not care.” Sanemi dismisses them. He doesn’t see either of the two girls he’s looking for and he turns away from them. He stalks down the halls of the butterfly mansion, in coming slayers flinging themselves into the wall just to avoid him and his wrath.
It takes another five minutes to find Shinobu and it only took him slamming open three shoji doors.
“Shinazugawa.” Shinobu’s soft smile doesn’t falter, not even when she’s annoyed with her office being intruded. She leans back in her seat and tilts her head at him.
“It happened again.” Sanemi exclaims.
Shinobu raises a brow.
“My heart jolted again yesterday. Matter of fact,” Sanemi steps inside the office. “it didn’t stop jolting for another 30 minutes.”
Shinobu snickers. “Y/N must be back from Final Selection already.” she notes, more to herself than as a statement to Sanemi. “Please tell her to come visit us at the Butterfly Mansion for any injuries she may have.”
Sanemi’s eyes are glaring at the younger girl. “What the hell does that have to do with my heart?!” he was growing irate by the second. Each time he came to this place he was kicked out by giggling girls.
“I’ve checked your heart countless times, Shinazugawa.” Shinobu states with a shake of her head. “There’s nothing wrong with it or you.”
Sanemi sighs and scoffs.
“Maybe you’re in denial?” Shinobu shrugs her shoulders.
“In denial?” Sanemi hisses. “You and that other little brat are in denial about my health!”
Shinobu wants to laugh right now, but having Sanemi constantly come into the Butterfly Mansion and scaring the nurses (and the slayers) was becoming overwhelming.
“My,” Shinobu manages to giggle. “have you…ever thought that your heart is jolting only when a certain someone is around you?”
Sanemi’s eyes squint. “Where the hell are you getting at?”
“That maybe you’ve failed to realize that your heart is jolting because you happen to…like Y/N?” Shinobu doesn’t want to cause Sanemi to convulse by saying the word “love” just yet. “There’s studies that show that boys are less smarter than girls, so I’m not surprised you cannot tell the difference between pain and feelings.”
Sanemi’s ears and neck darken a crimson color and his hands clenched into fists. Shinobu’s now full on laughing at him. He’s had enough of her and Uzui’s constant teasing.
“Fuck off.” Sanemi hisses and then turns to walk away.
“Shinazugawa!” Shinobu calls before he can storm down the hallway. “I think she likes you, too. So do the rest of the Hashira.”
Sanemi doesn’t say anything and Shinobu doesn’t expect him to, but the blush on his cheeks don’t go unnoticed.
Sanemi makes his way out of the Butterfly Mansion and back towards his estate. He managed to bring his breathing calm, but his mind is going crazy. He thinks of you and how each time he was with you, his heart goes insane and his mind seems to go blink. His anger appears to subside when you speak to him with such a soft smile. Your eyes never show any disgust towards him, instead they’re kind and warm.
“Nemi!”
Your voice echoes through his ears from behind him. He hasn’t seen you the last few hours and when he turns, he’s shocked to see your appearance. He swallows, throat quickly running dry. You’re running towards him, a wide smile on your lips. He notes that he’s rarely seen your skin - such smooth skin that now appears to shine underneath the afternoon sun. You’ve gotten your uniform and appeared to be an exact replica of Mitsuri.
“I got my uniform!” you say excitedly when you reach Sanemi.
Sanemi looks away to not catch himself staring too long at your appearance.
“Is that Y/N-chan?”
“She’s so cute!”
You’re beaming at Sanemi and he feels just how hot his body begins to feel.
“Do you feel comfortable?” Sanemi asks. You never showed this amount of skin before.
You slowly nod your head. “It’ll take some getting used to, I suppose.” you respond.
Sanemi licks his lips. His eyes roam around the area to find several slayers looking their way - your way. His nerves were now kicking in at the eyes on you.
“Do I look nice?” you ask him. “I do think it’ll be a little chilly with the uniform, but I think I’ll be alright.” you giggle to yourself.
“Is Shinazugawa-sama blushing again?”
“Why do all the girls go for guys like him?!” a slayer throws his hands in the air.
“Here.” Sanemi removes his haori and hands it over to you. He isn’t looking at you when he does so. “So you don’t get cold.”
“Shinazugawa-sama is such a nice boyfriend!” a female slayer gushes.
“Who knew he was such a-”
The slayers scurry off when a pair of lilac eyes glare at them.
You take hold of the haori with wide eyes. “But what about you, Nemi?”
“I got more.” Sanemi shrugs nonchalantly.
“Hm,” you hum, feeling the fabric in your hands. “Thank you. I’ll wear it on all my missions!” you place the haori over your shoulders and sigh happily.
Sanemi’s heart clenches and he inaudible sighs.
“Are you going back home?” you ask him. “I can cook us lunch if you don’t have anything to do!”
Sanemi nods and remains quiet.
“Good! Let’s go!” you hook your arm in his and begin walking.
Sanemi doesn’t mind your closeness, even if it does leave him surprised each time by just how willing you are to be entangled with him. While the pair of you stroll back to the estate in a comfortable silence, he’s thinking about just how nice you did look in your uniform - and how he didn’t like if anyone else thought the same.
When you suggested eating, Sanemi didn’t think you would invite others. You’ve just finished cooking when a knock sounds on his shoji doors. Sanemi doesn’t answer and you’re scurrying off to answer it yourself. The door opens and you’re beaming widely.
Sanemi wants to scoff when his brother is behind the door - him, for some odd reason Tokito and an unknown slayer with burgundy hair.
“I hope we are not intruding.” he murmurs to you, eyes only glancing at his brother for a moment. He hadn’t spoken to Sanemi in two weeks - not since the incident.
You are, Sanemi wants to say, but he only snickers to himself instead.
“Of course not!” you usher for them to enter. “I hope you all are hungry.”
Tokito remains silent when he sits upon the cushioned floor. He’s seated beside Genya and beside him, the unknown burgundy haired boy.
You go to serve the food for them, Sanemi grumbling to himself. He wanted to be with you - alone - not in his own home surrounded by brats.
You take your seat beside Sanemi and smile at the group of boys. “Please, eat.”
Muichiro wastes no time in doing as he’s told. Genya can feel eyes upon him, the glaring lilac eyes of his elder brother. He tries to think of your words two weeks prior - that Sanemi did love and care for him. It was hard believing you. He never made any attempt to speak with him after the fact and he grew slightly afraid that he would attempt to hurt him again if he tried.
“I met Shinra during Final Selection.” you tell Sanemi after a few bites of the pork cutlet. “He’s so cute.” you gush.
Shinra’s cheeks flushed crimson at the sound of his name and the compliment. He feels two sets of eyes on him - one from the white haired man who he learned quickly was a Hashira and then the boy with dark hair and a mohawk. They’re glaring, he notes, with such dark eyes and hatred.
“Look’s weak.” Sanemi retorts, sinking his teeth in the broccoli you steamed.
“Very.” Genya snorts.
Muichiro turns his eyes to look at Shinra and hums in agreement.
“That’s not nice.” you frown at the three of them. “Shinra’s is a very capable swordsman.”
Genya had no issue with the burgundy haired boy. He appeared to be close in age with him and Tokito. However, if he had your affection then that meant it was taken away from his brother (and him) and he didn’t like it.
“Shinra even helped me defeat a demon, right, Shinra-kun?”
Shinra feels his throat clog up at the amount of eyes on him. He finds himself nodding - even if it wasn’t the truth. You were lying to save him the embarrassment and that caused even more self-pity in him.
“Is that so?” Sanemi snickers. He leans forward. “He doesn’t even look like he knows how to hold a sword. I’m to believe someone like him helped you?”
You nod your head. You weren’t going to let them bring down Shinra’s self esteem about himself.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t go on missions yourself.” Sanemi states. “If you need help from a weakling.”
Genya watches the way his brother glares at Shinra and now he understands where this was going.
Sanemi was jealous - for no reason. Shinra was (for now) a weakling Mizunoto, yet you shared the rank with him. You were just lucky enough to have trained alongside several Hashira. Shinra was also only a child while you were an adult and only had eyes for Sanemi - but he knew his brother well enough to know that anyone was competition.
“Y/L-san is an amazing swordsman…woman…” Shinra’s voice is low and barely audible. He’s scared to even look the white haired man in the face but he’s grown great respect for you. “She killed the most demons during Final Selection…”
“How many did you kill?” Sanemi questions.
“I-I…” Shinra gulps. He hasn’t killed nearly as much as you or the other survivors. He only managed to cut the heads of three - and even that took a lot out of him.
“How about this,” Sanemi takes a bite of the pork and stands. “you show me just how good of a swordsman you are.”
“We’re eating.” you sigh, watching as Sanemi rounds the table to put (more like snatch) Shinra’s shoulder.
“It’ll only be a moment.” Sanemi yanks Shinra from his cushioned seat and pulls him to his feet. “I have an extra sword.”
Shinra is visibly shaking in Sanemi’s tight hold. He’s pushed out the door and it causes Muichiro to snort. “Y/N.”
“Huh, yes, Tokito?” you say to him, smiling apologetically. “Is the food alright?
Muichiro nods. He licks his lips before his eyes turn to you. “Please tell Shinazugawa that no one is planning on stealing you from him.” he says nonchalantly. “All the slayers that do voice their attractions are scared of being castrated.”
You laugh nervously, eyes going wide. You feel yourself grow hot with embarrassment.
“Genya even threatens a few that talk about you suggestively.”
Genya whips his head to glare at Muichiro, cheeks flushed. “I do not!” he hisses, denying rather quickly.
“Yes you do.” Muichiro takes a sip of his drink. “You talk down to anyone that thinks they could speak to Y/N.” Muichiro scoffs. And he was supposed to be the one with memory issues.
You get up from your cushioned seat and nod your head at the two (now bickering, more on Genya’s side than Muichiro) boys. You place a hand on both of their heads and it silences them. “You two are so cute.” you tell them. “Makes me wish I had younger siblings.” your eyes glance outside. You were going to have to save Shinra from Sanemi’s torture right about now.
You bow and excuse yourself and make your way out the shoji doors just as Sanemi swings a wooden sword Shinra’s way. “Sanemi!” you call, eyes glaring at the man. “Leave Shinra alone! We’ve come here for lunch not to train!”
Shinra’s able to dodge Sanemi’s attack by the grace of God, sweat pooling down his forehead and whimpering for whoever to save him.
Sanemi stops his attack and turns to you. You appeared to be upset, eyebrows knitted to a scowl. Your arms are crossed and for a split second his eyes flicker to your breast pressed together.
“Shinra, let’s finish up your lunch, yeah?” you tell the boy who nods his head, far too excited to be away from the white haired maniac.
As Shinra enters the house once more, your eyes turn to Sanemi. “What’s that about?”
Sanemi drops his wooden swords and goes to make his way back into his home. You step in front of the man. “You can’t keep harassing the slayers. They’re terrified of you!”
Sanemi scoffs. “If they’re terrified of me then a demon would have their fucking heads.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re a scary man.”
Sanemi tilts his head and crosses his own arms. “You aren’t afraid of me.”
“Of course not.” you give him a teasing smile. “You’re nice when I’m around.”
Sanemi grumbles; maybe that’s why others would rather you be present if they had to approach him.
“Promise me,” you begin, coming closer to him. You take his large, calloused hands in your soft ones. “That you won’t keep harassing the slayers. Especially Shinra and Genya.”
Sanemi groans. He likes the soft and gentleness of your hands on his own.
“I can’t promise that.” Sanemi says. “They all enjoy pissing me off.”
You giggle. “But they avoid you!” you exclaim. “Just try.”
Sanemi nods his head with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever.” he mumbles.
You wrap your pinky around his longer one, a tint of mischief in your eyes. “Swear.”
“Swear.” Sanemi murmurs. “Whoever lies will be made to swallow a thousand needles.” the two of you say in unison, a wide smile on your lips and a low one on his.
“CAW! Y/L Y/N is to report to Chiyoda City! A demon has been sighted in the Shrine!” Hiyori soars above you, her wings flapping.
Your eyes widen and you stand to your feet excitedly. “We’re going on a mission? Our first mission!” you were ready for a mission the same day you were given your nichirin sword.- a long sword with a black handguard that wraps right above your hand, offering an amazing grip. The blade is long and shiny against the bright sun - an emerald color shining down the sharpest part of the blade.
“Sanemi’s doing his rounds. I’m sad he wasn’t home to hear.” you feel saddened, but this was your moment to make him proud and assure that you’d come back safe.
You make your journey out of the estate with Hiyori flying above you, leading the way. You’re pumping with excitement that it’s ridiculous. You were going head first to a demon - but you were bouncing with joy as if you were meeting your husband. You were just ecstatic to kill as many demons as you could and work your way up the ranks. You heard the amount of people wishing to become Hashira, but you’re content not being one. The 9 Hashira you’ve met were more than amazing at their jobs.
You reach the area in the middle of the night, the moon shining brightly and the area quietly. The air appears to be murky and foggy, a low fog that’s nearly blinding. You slow your walk, drawing your blade while your eyes scan the area.
A sound to your left heightens your senses. More sounds from your right, above and even forward you. Small figures appear, no taller than toddler sizes. They’re demons - eyes black and soulless. There’s scars oozing blood beneath both of their eyes and there's a shadowy smoke that surrounds them as they push closer to you. As they come closer, you note that they appear to be floating rather than walking.
You raise your sword and swing when one shadowy figure lungs at you. You slice at their head, cutting off each one with swift movements - but they appear to never stop coming. It’s as though as soon as you kill one, five more come sprinting after you. Each shadowy figure has their own weapon - a knife, sword, cutlass.
“That man despises you.” a gravelly voice hisses behind you. The shadowy figures disappear and you’re left in complete silence.
You turn around, eyes glaring into the darkness. “Show yourself!” you call into said darkness.
Your feet walk stealthy behind the shrine where what appears to be a large pond is located. The water is still; unnerved.
“You’re nothing to him!” the same voice hisses, this time besides you and now you sense it. A hand slams against your cheek and you’re sent flying towards the pond. It wasn’t deep, luckily, and you managed to keep your sword clenched into your hands.
You leep from the pond just as the demon lunges at you. It appears to be a woman. She’s tall, appearing just a few inches smaller than Uzui. Her eye sockets are wide but they’re soulless, no pupils in sight. Her hair is long and flowy behind her, but appears to be wet and stringy. Her skin is a dull gray color and she’s snarling at you.
“Look at you,” the demon snarls, her fingernails gnawing at her skin. “So young and beautiful. No man will ever respect such a whore!”
The demon lunges at you once more and you manage to cut her hand off, long claws falling onto the ground below you.
A loud, blood curdling scream echoes off the trees, coming from the demon. The sound is unbearable and you’re sure the demon is causing your ears to bleed.
You got to your knees.
“What would your father think seeing you now?” a voice says.
“What about your mother? Your brother?”
The atmosphere appears colder now, the screams of the demon growing louder and louder.
“What do you think Sanemi would think of you once you die here?” the screams appear louder and you’re certain your ears are bleeding. “When you die here tonight, you will be forgotten - just like your father forgot about you.”
You can feel the anger inside of you bubbling at the taunting words of the demon. “Come with me, I’ll put you out of your miserable misery.”
You lift your sword, trying your hardest to ignore the ringing in your ear. The demon flings itself at you and in one quick movement, you’re dodging its attack and slicing off her other hand. You get to your feet, sprinting towards the Demon. It wails loudly once more, but you ignore the painful ringing in your ears. “Wind Breathing: Second Form!” you lift the sword upwards towards the right and above your head. You release four vertical slashes resembling claws towards the demon. “Claws-Purifying Wind!”
You dash towards the Demon as your attack slashes them, black blood oozing out from their wounds. You make it your mission to get rid of this demon once and for all, raising your sword and bringing it down on the demon's neck.
You drop to your feet, eyes on the demon's head a few feet away.The screaming releasing from its throat grows silent by the second as the head begins to disintegrate.
It takes you a moment to move, your mind racing at the words the demon said.
That man despises you.
No man will ever respect a whore.
When you die here, you’ll be forgotten.
You sheathe your sword and begin to walk. Your ears are ringing as you make your way back towards your destination, Hiyori flying above you. By the time you’d return, the sun will be present and you’d hope to come face to face with Sanemi once more. You’ve grown close to the man and it causes you great shame to know that the words of the demon got to you; causing your heart to ache. You no longer cared about your fathers thoughts about you; you dealt with the man for years and his harsh ways. But the thought of Sanemi - someone you considered to be a great friend, even someone you loved dearly - forgetting about you; despising you.
You exhale, deciding to pick up your pace to get back to the estate - and Sanemi - faster.
Sanemi’s sword slices against the tatami mat, slicing with ease. His mind is on you and when you are due to return. He’s upset that you were set on a mission - your first one at that - while he was out on his own. He’s positive that you were ecstatic and jumping with joy - it causes his heart to beat harder. He regrets not being there to send you off, even when his nerves screams at him to find you.
You’re an adult, he tells himself.
You’re now a slayer, fully capable of fighting low-level demons.
But still, you were someone he cared about.
Sanemi cannot keep his mind at ease when Genya is away on missions, now that he has you and his brother on his mind, he’s sure he’ll never find peace.
Sorai, Sanemi’s crow, flocks his wings and places himself on a sliced tatami mat. The words released from the crows mouth has Sanemi’s eyes widening and his blood going cold.
Rengoku.
Dead.
Kyojuro is dead.
Sanemi’s right hand clenches his sword in his palm.
“I will annihilate all unsightly demons.” he hisses, turning away to make his way out of his home. His heart is pumping out his chest now and his nerves are screaming.
Kyojuro was a Hashira - a skilled one. What did that mean for you and Genya? You were out on a mission as we speak, too far away to know of Kyojuro’s death but that doesn’t ease his nerves one bit. He feels jittery. His mind is wandering to you fighting whatever demon you were sent out to and returning with serious injuries. His heart clenches when his mind flashes with you covered in blood, body lifeless.
“Sorai!” Sanemi hisses and his crow squawks. “Go find Y/N.”
Sorai flocks his wings and begins his journey. Lilac eyes follow him until he’s nothing but a mere figure in the sky.
Sanemi inhales deeply and exhales. He runs a calloused hand through his hair and down his face. He notices that his hand is trembling lightly with nerves.
You release a low sigh when you notice the familiar sight of the Butterfly Mansion. Your body aches and your ears are still ringing, but you manage to make it in one piece.
“CAW!”
Sharp feet landed upon your head.You hiss at the impact, wailing your hands around. “Sorai?” you murmur. “Where’s Sanemi?” you ask the crow.
“Shinazugawa-sama has sent me to assure your safety!” the crow squawks.
You find yourself grinning. You pet the crows head lightly. “Yes, I’ve arrived safely.” you tell him. “I’m going to the Butterfly Mansion to assure my injuries aren’t severe.”
Sorai squawks again, wings flapping to fly and give the news to Sanemi.
You enter the mansion to find it surprisingly quiet.
“Y/N-chan!”
It’s Naho. She’s crying at the sight of you - did you look that bad?
“I’ll go get Aoi! Shinobu-san is busy.”
You follow behind her to the infirmary. You’re glad you can finally lay down and relax.
You enter the room and groan. You fell onto the nearest bed and sighed.
“You must be in such pain.” Aoi murmurs, eyeing the way your ears hold dried blood.
“Little bit.” you mumble a response. “Just feel a little…tired.” you close your eyes, lids feeling heavy.
“Okay. You can sleep,Y/N-chan. I’ll give you some medicine for your wounds.”
You’re into a deep sleep by the time you hear Aoi’s words. It felt nice to be able to relax for now and not worry about anything.
Sanemi slams the shoji doors open, causing several nurses to yelp in surprise.
“Shinazugawa!” Aoi growls, eyebrows knitting into a scowl. “How many times-”
“What happened to her?”
Aoi watches with angered eyes as Sanemi stalks towards your sleeping figure.
Sanemi lowers himself to inspect you. There’s a few scratches on your skin and blood (dried) on the sides of your ears.
“She passed out around 10 minutes ago.” Aoi responds. “Now leave, she needs-”
Sanemi sits on the bed beside yours, deciding to ignore Aoi altogether.
Aoi scoffs. She turns her head to the other nurses and nods. They continue to scurry off out of the room.
“I’ll be back with some medicine for her.” Aoi grumbles and makes her way out of the room.
Sanemi allows himself to breathe now. When Sorai had come back to him and stated that you had returned safely but at the Butterfly Mansion, he had to be sure you were safe.
It was three hours later when you finally stirred awake. You feel groggily and your eyes are heavy. You yawned, pushing yourself up in the bed.
“You’re awake.”
You yelp at the sudden voice. “Nemi.”
Sanemi’s arms are crossed over his chest, eyes studying you.
“How long have you been here?”
Sanemi shrugs. “Not too long.” Sanemi responds. He hasn’t left since you were emitted.
“Ah,” you lean against the metal frame. “I’ve returned from my mission.”
You’re smiling tiredly at him.
“My heart feels so full and heavy. My mind cannot focus on anything.” you explain. “It’s all so overwhelming to return alive and well.”
“Your ears are bleeding. Are you sure you’re well?”
“Yes.” you nod. “The demon was a very loud screamer.” you giggle to yourself.
Sanemi swallows. He’s unsure how he was going to tell you about Kyojuro. You’ve grown close to the man and learning of his death would cause you great sorrow, and he didn’t like to see you upset or sad.
“Nemi?”
“Kyojuro…” Sanemi begins. “...went on a mission before you had. He didn’t make it.”
You tilt your head, ears registering his words.
“Kyojuro…is dead?” you swallow, throat dry.
It feels foolish to cry for someone knowing that this life was never guaranteed. You’ve grown close to him, sometimes speaking with him whenever you were free.
“Nemi…” you trail off, feeling your eyes become wet. You feel for Kyojuro and his family and it even feels selfish of you to be scared for Sanemi’s life now. Kyojuro was a Hashira just like Sanemi and if he was ultimately brought to death…
Your legs ache, but you do not hesitate to jump from your bed to where Sanemi sat. You wrapped him in a tight embrace, wet eyes crushing into his neck.
Sanemi’s shocked by your actions. He didn’t know Kyojuro’s death would impact you this much.
You sniffled in his neck. “I don’t want you to ever be in harm's way.” you murmur. Sanemi, Genya, Shinra…you didn’t want to see death for anyone apart from the Corps.
Sanemi gulps. He places an arm around you to bring you closer. He doesn’t usually touch you - sober, that was - but you were always clingy. He wants to comfort you, to tell you that everything would be alright. He wants to tell you that he wasn’t going to die - but he doesn’t wish to disappoint you with false promises he couldn’t guarantee.
Sanemi doesn’t speak as he holds onto you, but he’s positive that he too does not wish you to ever be in harm's way - he’s unsure if he would be able to live with himself if you or Genya didn’t come back from a mission alive.
The next few months consist of you and Sanemi attending missions alongside one another, sometimes with other slayers. You want to question why you haven’t been on a solo mission, but you don’t. You assume after Kyojuro’s death, that the Corps would rather keep lower ranks with higher ones, but you cannot be 100% sure.
However, you wouldn’t complain about being sent out with Sanemi. He was more of a guide, making sure nothing got too hectic for you - and it never did. He allowed you to behead any demons that you saw and the mission was complete. Then the two of you would return back to the estate until the next mission.
Weekly, you would have lunch that you’d cook with Sanemi, Genya, Shinra and Muichiro (whenever they weren’t sent on missions). Sanemi managed to bite his tongue and instead would grumble to himself, but it was progress. You enjoyed cooking for them and saw the three younger boys as little brothers.
Sanemi drew the line when you invited more - Tanjiro was such a lovely boy that you couldn’t help but want to feed him. With Tanjiro came Zenitsu and Inosuke - a brawl ensued when Inosuke insulted Sanemi and Genya retorted, both teenagers throwing insults and punches. But you enjoyed the lunch, nonetheless.
“We have another mission.” Sanemi says during breakfast. “Hiyori delivered it while you were bathing.”
“Ah, is that so?” you bring the sweet potato in your mouth and bite.
Sanemi nods. “A Hashira is to be present. Me.” he says. “More slayers are attending, as well. We were told to pack a bag - it might take longer than we expect.”
You nod and when the two of you are done with breakfast, you go to pack your bag. It can be classified as an undercover mission, so casual wear is expected.
It’s not long that you, Sanemi and a group of slayers are making your journey to Shinjuku, expected to arrive right in the evening. Sanemi wasn’t one to make stops, so you managed to pack a few snacks for the long way.
Once you arrive to Shinjuku you’re relieved. The sun was barely shining and you just wanted to find whatever demon was here and kill it. Seeing as the lot of you were expected to be undercover, you’re sure it wouldn’t work out that way.
“You,” Sanemi points to a group of 5 slayers. “find an inn and see what you can gather about our mission.”
The five slayers bow and head on their way. Sanemi’s turns his eyes to another four. “You do the same in the opposite direction.”
There's only you, him and two slayers left - one girl named Sumire and a boy by the name of Roshi. “There’s an inn on the outskirts of Shinjuku. We’ll head there, find a room and change. The sun will fall soon and we’ll have to investigate whatever demon lurks here.”
The inn wasn’t far and a ten minute walk has you four arriving there. It appears to be the nicest Inn in the city for it to be such a long distance from it.
“Welcome in!” a woman behind the counter eyes the four of you, her eyes recognizing the uniform displayed. “Two rooms?”
“Four.” Sanemi corrects.
“Ah…” the woman leans forward, eyes staring at Sanemi’s chest, a grin formed onto her lips. “I apologize, sir, but we only do couples in Shinjuku.”
Sanemi scoffs. “What type of shit is that?” he hisses. He’s never heard of an entire city only catering to couples.
“We’re known as a honeymoon retreat here.” the lady shrugs. “I do apologize for any inconvenience.”
“It’s fine.” you sigh. “I can room with Sumire-”
“Please don’t.” Roshi whimpers, shaking his head. He wanted to be nowhere near Sanemi - especially not when his annoyance was rising. “I’ll take the floor so Sumire can have the bed - really!”
“Then it’s settled. Two rooms for two couples.” the lady turns to grasp a set of keys in both manicured hands and she dangles them out for you all to grasp.
Sanemi snatches the key and scurries down the hall while Sumire takes the other.
“We’ll get settled, changed and make our way out for the night.” you tell Sumire and Roshi.
“Yes.” Sumire and Roshi reply in unison.
Sanemi slams the door shut as the two of you enter, dropping his bag onto the large bed.
“The sun will be setting soon.” you note aloud. “Do we have a set plan?”
“There’s obviously something going on here.” Sanemi says. He removes a yukata from his belongings. “Shinjuku was not known to be a couples retreat - not until now.”
“Do you think whatever demons here are targeting couples?” you tilt your head to think. Eating two people would be smarter than one, but still, a demon was stronger than a regular civilian. “It seems to be a lot of effort on the demon's part.”
Sanemi shrugs. Whatever the demon was doing, he’d be sure to put an end to it.
Sanemi and you roamed Shinjuku. It appeared bright even when the sun was down. You noticed that it indeed was a couples affair - you noticed no one walking alone. What also caught your attention was the lack of children present - or those who were older.
“You two look new here.”
Sanemi’s eyes flicker to the voice.
“We are.” you smile at them, inching closer to Sanemi.
“Oh! How long have you two been married?” the woman asks and now you’re unsure what to say.
“Honeymoon.” Sanemi responds. “Was recommended by a friend.”
The woman nods her head. “It’s amazing here! We’ve been here twice already. Have you two been to…”
You await for her to continue, but her eyes look as if waiting for you to catch on.
“...Uh…?” you turn to Sanemi who doesn’t even look interested.
“The couples…brothel?” the woman flushes bright red as she speaks, her husband laughing nervously.
“Couples brothel?”
Sanemi was intrigued now.
“Yes. You have to be approved first - we haven’t.”
“What do you do there?” you ask, unsure of what in the world this mission was going to put you through.
“If approved, you get to be doted on…” the woman is far too embarrassed to continue but you’re sure you get where she’s going.
“Ah.” you nod your head. “I never knew that was something.”
“Yes. It happens every day at a different inn.” the husband says.
“Today should be…”
Sanemi sighs. He has a guess of what inn it would be happening at.
“We have to go.” Sanemi says, stomping off.
“Sorai.” Your eyes look into the sky at the flying bird. “Inform the other slayers of the demon. Tell them to patrol the streets and make sure no civilians are harmed.”
“Where are we-”
“Back to the Inn.” Sanemi answers your question before you can respond. “That woman insisted on couples because that’s how the demon feeds without getting caught.”
“She chooses her victims strategically.” you murmur. “Not everyone gets accepted.”
“She must know we’re slayers - or at least senses that there’s something off about us.” Sanemi picks up the pace. “Only way to find out…”
Sanemi wraps you in a tight embrace as you both enter the inn. It catches you by surprise - his sudden closeness.
“Hello!” a lady claps her hands at your arrival. “Are you guests here already?” it’s not the same woman as yesterday, you note.
Sanemi nods his head, arms wrapped tightly around you. “Yes. We’re hoping we can join.”
The woman is nodding, quite aware of what Sanemi is asking of her. “You’re in luck. Our mistress had not yet chosen a couple.” she eyes the way you and Sanemi appear. “I’m positive we found a good choice in the two of you.”
Sanemi swallows. He’s unsure how, but she knows there’s something off about the two of you - you aren’t an ordinary couple. She’s no demon, he would know if she was.
“Follow me,” the woman motions with her hand for the two of you to come.
You walk, as does Sanemi. He won’t admit it, but having your body against his makes him feel at ease; just knowing you’re close and away from harm.
The hallway is long and seemingly away from the other rooms of the inn. The lights grow dim the closer the three of you step. You were sure it had to do with the demon.
“Go right into the room. The mistress will be in shortly. There are refreshments inside, as well.” The woman slides open the doors and bows as you enter. “Do have some fun while you wait.” She shuts them and you hear her footsteps pat down the hall until they’re inaudible.
“Room’s nice.” your eyes scan around the room, appearing quite large in size and lights just as dim as the hallway.
Sanemi grunts but doesn’t say a response. He sits upon the mat, eyes scanning for any sign of the demon.
You take a seat besides him and inhale. The room was humid.
“Have your sword ready.” Sanemi murmurs. You’re seated besides him, far too close. His noses appear to be heightened, your aroma nearly intoxicating him. He swallows thickly.
“It’s fucking hot.” Sanemi hisses. “Where’s that bitch?”
You were beginning to feel the same way. Your kimono wasn’t tight, but it felt as if it was sticking to you. The air felt so heavy, humid and…you shiver, goosebumps erupting onto your skin.
“I feel weird.” you tell Sanemi after a long moment.
Sanemi’s eyes turn to you besides him. He notes there’s sweat lining your forehead and you’re panting lightly. Your legs are shuffling together, hands clenching in your lap. He notes that in the midst of your anxious state, you loosened your kimono and beneath it shows your uniform - the same uniform you wore when he gifted you his haori. He’d scream and berate the perverted kakushi for a new uniform just for you to wear both, stating that you didn’t want to be a bother. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the way you looked in it, not at all. He enjoyed it too much, often finding his eyes and mind wandering to places they shouldn’t.
“You should drink something.” Sanemi tears his eyes away from you to eye the refreshments besides them. There isn’t any water, just wine, but it’ll have to do. “Just enough so you won’t feel parched.”
You nod your head. You wouldn’t be off your game after a sip of wine. You reach for the wine besides Sanemi, a low apology when your arm touches his. It sends a jolt throughout him, this time reaching lower than his heart.
Sanemi’s eyes are shameless now. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s watching you. Your hands are shaking as you take the bottle of wine in your hands. You unscrew it and begin to pour. “W-Would you like some?”
Sanemi blinks at the sound of your voice, but he nods. He takes the small, silver goblet from your trembling hands and nods his thanks. He drinks the wine in one swift movement, downing it while his eyes watch yours. He was sure he could have another, and another as long as you served him.
You aren’t as fast as Sanemi. You smell the wine first before going in to take a sip. It’s good - expensive too. You find yourself drinking the wine keen, enjoying the refreshing taste it gives.
Sanemi’s eyes watch as the wine, a crimson red color, drips from the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, to your chin and drips onto your collarbone. It teases him, he thinks, as it slowly drips onto your exposed breasts.
Sanemi licks his lips and groans. He yanks the wine bottle and pours himself another and downs it. He goes to pour himself another one, but he feels a hand on his wrist.
“You’re going to drink it all.” you say, voice laced with mischief.
Sanemi inhales. The room was growing hotter.
Sanemi pours the wine, but this time he doesn’t drink it. He lifts it to your own lips, tapping them so you’d open them. You do, gently drinking the wine from his hands. You couldn’t contain the laughter coming from your throat as you do so, the wine splashing onto your kimono.
Sanemi feels hot all over again, his uniform beneath his yukata growing tighter.
“Nemi?”
Sanemi gulps. “Hm?”
“Do you think I’m hot?”
Sanemi coughs at your question, flushing.
Why was the room growing hotter?
Why does his clothes feel like they’re sticking to him?
Sanemi was growing confused by the second - why were the two of you even in this room?
“Why do you ask?” Sanemi drops the goblet.
“Because you never say it.” Were you intoxicated now? You didn’t appear to be, your words weren’t slurring and your vision didn’t appear hazy. “Are you attracted to me?”
Sanemi feels you come closer. He’s stiff - you had to be drunk. You’re pushing off your kimono, now just only in the revealing corp uniform. He gasps when you climb into his lap, both legs trapping him beneath you.
“You look scared.” You were teasing him. You sit directly onto him, the bulge of his cock twitching when he feels the heartbeat that’s your pussy. “You’re supposed to be the fearless Wind Hashira.”
Sanemi places his hands against your exposed thighs and groans at the smoothness of your skin. He’d often wake from dreams of you and him being in this very position - he’d either have to shower with the coldest water or pump himself until he was cumming. The last option was the most embarrassing.
“Are you afraid of me?” you’re teasing him again, repeating the same words he said to you in Asakusa. Though he wasn’t pressing himself against you like this, he wouldn’t complain either.
Sanemi groans once more at the feeling of you slightly grinding against him.
Yes, Sanemi was afraid of you. You made him feel different - the jolting in his heart that dives all the way down to his cock. He often finds himself staring at you, so long that his eyes grow dry and he has to blink just to regain moisture. He often has to hear Uzui’s and Shinobu’s teasing of his feelings for you, no matter how much he attempts to deny it himself.
“No.” Sanemi murmurs, even if it was a lie.
“Then kiss me.” you lean forward, inches away from Sanemi’s lips. He gulps, licking his lips. Your lavender aroma fills his nostrils and he finds all the sanity he had left gone.
Sanemi presses his lips against yours, his fingernails digging into the skin of your thigh. He doesn’t want to let you go - whatever this was he doesn’t want it to end. All that clouds his thoughts now were you - your scent, your touch, the sound of you. It intoxicates him that whatever the two of you were initially supposed to be doing in this room has since been forgotten.
You feel your throat tighten and you’re being lifted. Your eyes shoot open and you’re gasping for air, eyes watching someone - you? It wasn’t you.
The demon had taken the form of you now, leaning against a panting Sanemi. He’s in a trance, you note, not noticing that he was now in the hands of the demon. Her eyes look up at you once for a second and now, your blood is running cold. ‘Lower Rank Six’ engraved into her eyes.
You struggle to get yourself loose. It’s obvious that the demon has Sanemi in a trance and you were the one that needed to behead the bitch.
“Thank you for bringing me a Hashira.” the demon cackles. “I can show my lord that I am capable of killing a Hashira and then I’ll work my way up. He has given me a second chance just for this moment!”
You struggle against a hooked tail, but manage to get one arm loose to unsheathe your sword. You swipe at it, slashing it so you can release yourself. “Get away from him!”
The demon’s eyes widen but she then laughs. “I’m sorry I have to consume your lover.” she taunts. “Virgins don’t know what to do with a man.” the demon taunts. The air appears to be foggy and once again you feel hot with desire.
“You’re nothing but a demon that’s going to die here.” you spit at her.
The demon shrieks at your words. “Such a disgusting human! You don’t deserve to be in my presence!”
You swipe your sword to dodge her attack. You needed to get this over with now before you wasted any more time. Your mind was fogging with whatever she’s done, an obvious demon blood art.
“You’re nothing but a weak lower moon.” you spat back at her with the same venom.
The demon hisses and sends an array of attacks with her hooked tail. “Wind Breathing: Third Form:” you proceed to release a whirlwind of slashes around you to defend yourself from her attack.”Clean Storm Wind Tree!” Your eyes focus on her neck - you had to finish her off now. You raise your sword and slash it across her neck, a clean swipe that cuts the demon’s head right off.
The demon screams at her sudden defeat, but another gush of fog surrounds the entirety of the room just as her head and body harshly crash onto the ground.
You drop your sword beside you, making your way to Sanemi. His eyes are closed and he appears to be asleep.
“Nemi?” you call, falling to your knees. You place a hand upon his cheek and flinch when his eyes dart open. “Nemi…”
Your words trailed off and neither of you talked, only stared at the other. The room was boiling now, sweat pooling off of your body. You were sure you’d hear a pin drop with how silent the room remained.
“We should…go…” you managed to speak, but it was difficult. Your throat is dry and your ears are beginning to ring. Your clothing is uncomfortable and tight, sticking to your skin like glue. “Nemi…I-I don’t feel good.” you admit to him after another few moments of tortured silence. Your legs are beginning to clench together, the friction feeling good, an electric shock between your legs.
You knew this feeling, you were no prude. You were sexually frustrated. There was no doubt a wet spot between your legs and the friction of your thighs clenching together brought a temporary satisfaction. You would admit that you touched yourself often when you needed to just to let loose and unwind, but that frustration wasn’t anywhere near how you felt now.
You scoff bitterly to yourself. To think you endured hellish training to become a slayer just for sexual frustration to be your downfall.
“Let’s go.” Sanemi nods, head heavy. “We need to get our stuff from the room.”
Standing is difficult for Sanemi. His clothing is tight and there’s an obvious bulge in his uniform pants. He allows you to lead the way, his sane mind screaming to not stare at the way your ass moves, but he doesn’t care. He was a man, after all, a man drugged by a demon. He wants to laugh at the circumstances.
The woman is nowhere to be found when you pass the front end of the inn. You assumed she was nothing but a pawn for the demon and was left alive as long as she offered her humans to consume.
Entering the bedroom, you close the shoji doors behind you and Sanemi.
“I hope everyone else is alright.” you murmur to yourself, leaning against the door. “We should probably be heading out-”
You stop speaking once you realize Sanemi’s hands are clenching his hair tightly. His chest is rising and falling and he appears to be in pain.
“Nemi-” you reach out to touch him, but Sanmi harshly pushes you away. Your eyes widen at the sudden action. “I-I…are you in pain? I-”
“Leave, Y/N.” Sanemi’s gruff voice startles you. “Go to Kocho and take the slayers with you.”
“I can’t leave you here.” you say. You’re ashamed that his voice turns you on. You hold the edge of your uniform skirt. “You’re in pain-”
“You know I’m not in pain!” Sanemi hisses. His tone would have anyone else cowering, but here you stood with wide (heart) eyes and clenching thighs. “You know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”
You gulp at his words.
“I’m trying my hardest not to fuck you against the wall.” Sanemi stares at your face. “Leave. Now.”
Sanemi turns away from you and you’re shocked by his choice of words. You’re certain the demon art is affecting him just as much as it’s affecting you.
But…there it was. The sensation pooling between your legs - the heartbeat taunting you. His words made you wet, you note. It was a warning - don’t come closer, don’t keep trying to help; run away before he’d do something that he wouldn’t do normally. It’s a sort of adrenaline rush to be playing with fire.
“I can help you.” you gulp. You decide to step closer to him and wrap your hands onto his bicep. “I want-”
Sanemi’s fast in his action, gripping your jaw to press a firm kiss upon your lips. He’s holding back, you know, not wishing to hurt you. He knows you haven’t done this before and the sane part of him wants to stop - to not take you while he cannot control himself. “You need to leave, Y/N.” Sanemi’s pleading with you now. He didn’t want to have your first time like this. He’s trembling, all ounce of strength fighting animalistic urges. He almost feels nauseous, mind flashing in all the ways he could take you right now - how vulnerable you’d be beneath him and how good you’d look stuffed with his seed.
Sanemi shakes his head aggressively, wanting to get rid of the perverted thoughts of you, but he cannot. It’s humiliating to think that these thoughts were there before, but with the demon art, it’s completely unbearable.
You were always the stubborn one, never heeding warning. You raise a hand to place it upon his yukuta. You clench it to pull him forward to press your lips upon his once more. Sanemi’s breathing intensifies in the kiss and still, there’s a little part in him that’s holding back the urges to completely demolish you like the demon art (and him, as well) desired.
“Let me help you, Nemi. It doesn’t matter how long it takes!” you’re pleading with him now, heavily panting when you release his lips for oxygen. You’re also affected by the demon art, even if your own desires were buried deep. “You’d help me so much. I can do the same.” The sound of your begs drive Sanemi wild, his mind refusing to stop sending the illusions of you in different, perverted positions until he acts upon them.
Sanemi’s hands reach out to touch you, bringing you closer to him. You’re against his chest and when his hands sneak out to touch the curves of your body, he knows he won’t be able to stop.
Stop - Sanemi tells himself.
You'll regret this.
He’d regret this.
He’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state - this isn’t you, this is the demon art.
You want this - another part of his brain denies the sane part of him. There’s an internal dialogue happening right in his mind.
He wanted this. He’d always wanted this.
He wanted to be deep inside of you - so deep that there wasn’t a way you couldn’t not be impregnated.
You’d be his and his alone - you’d give him the family he desired.
“Nemi, please…”
Sanemi doesn’t hold back any longer, fully succumbing to the demon art that’s blinding his best judgment. Your back slams against the futon, sending shocks all over your body, but you aren’t upset at Sanemi’s sudden change in demeanor. His hands are ripping at your uniform, not caring about any damage it causes. He shudders when his hands finally manage to touch you. The countless times he would touch himself to any little amount of skin you showed him - and now you were nearly nude before him.
Sanemi never wanted to thank a demon before in his life.
You’re moaning when Sanemi’s lips kiss along your neck, tongue trailing along as he does so. His hands are groping your breast, the bandages binding them are ripped apart in seconds and they spring free.
Sanemi’s face is between your breasts in seconds, kissing sloppily. You’re so beautiful. He wanted to admire your beauty as much as he could - there was no going back now and who knows what would happen when the demon art wore off. But Sanemi couldn’t slow his pace now, you made him delirious.
Your body jerks when you feel a warm, wet sensation on your nipples. Sanemi’s tongue suckles on your left while his thumb tugs on the right. It causes you to moan louder, the feeling foreign and you never wanted it to end.
It wasn’t soon until Sanemi had you fully naked before him. He’s in awe, truly, eyes completely blown out. It’s unclear to him how he could still manage to hold back completely being barbaric when it comes to the sight of you, but maybe it’s the respect he held dear to his heart for you.
Sanemi’s lips kiss down your breast, to your stomach down to your abdomen. He pushes your legs apart and swallows when he catches sight just how wet you were.
You squirm under Sanemi’s gaze, unsure what he was doing. You go to close your legs but Sanemi only pushes them apart further.
“N-Nemi!” you gasp once you feel his tongue flat against your clit. It’s a weird feeling of euphoria that has your eyes rolling. “S-stop!” you’re struggling against Sanemi’s tongue, doing everything in your power to get him to stop. “I can’t take anymore, Nemi…”
Sanemi doesn’t care about your babblings. Your taste intoxicates him just like your scent does. Your moans are so sweet, like his favorite tune playing again and again in his ears. His fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh and he’s bobbing his head back and forth over and over again until you’re sobbing.
Sanemi lifts his head from your swollen clit and licks his lips. He’s hovering above your twitching form and even now as you’re overstimulated with pleasure and sobbing, he cannot bring himself to stop.
“Nemi…”
Sanemi presses three fingers against your clit, rubbing tauntingly. “You can take it.” he encourages. After all, if you cannot handle his tongue and fingers, how’d you ever handle his cock?
Sanemi rubs a few more times before his fingers inch inside of you. His lips are kissing along your face, kissing along at the tears of pleasure.
You’re tight and it excites Sanemi. Knowing that he would be the one to deflower you - be the first (and preferably only) man you’d been with. It causes goosebumps to litter his skin.
The feeling of Sanemi’s fingers inside of you hurts - you’ve never done so before. He isn’t going slow either to allow you to adjust, he’s pumping with such force that it compels you into pleasure.
“I feel weird, Nemi…” you’re panting, feeling the bubbling feeling deep in your stomach. “Stop, I-I don’t wanna cum like this.” your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him - even if Sanemi refuses. “I wanna feel you around me when I do.”
Sanemi’s cock twitches at your words, but he wastes no time.
With hooded eyes, you watch as Sanemi undresses. You hadn’t realized just how clothed he was while you laid completely bare.
Sanemi’s body was beautiful, chiseled muscles sculpting his entire body. You flush at the sight of his completely nude body - cock erect. Your legs twitch with nervousness..
Sanemi hovers above you. There’s a flash in his eyes - you notice. His forehead is pressed against yours and for a moment his eyes are soft, no longer harboring the feral reaction.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” he murmurs to you. It’s the voice that belonged to Sanemi - not the one under the demon art, but the man that you trained alongside for a year.
You didn’t have the chance to respond. Sanemi is entering you now and your hands go to clench his biceps harshly. It doesn’t hurt him, of course, but the pressure for you is nearly unbearable. Your legs wrap around him tight, hoping he wouldn’t move too soon.
You inhale deeply, trembling with the newfound pain. Sanemi is big - but any cock would be for you. You just hoped Sanemi wasn’t far too gone in the demon’s spell and wouldn’t hurt you too much.
Sanemi’s patience was slowly breaking. He found himself grinding into her for any sort of friction or pleasure. There’s only so much a man like him could take, his mind kept replaying the countless ways he could take you right now and he was truly fighting an internal battle.
Sanemi thrusted out of you fully to thrust back in. You released a surprised wail, eyes shutting tight. Your fingernails would be another scar left upon his skin.
“I can’t take it.” you cry out, walls completely sore by taking his cock in you fully. The pressure was unbearable and by the looks of the man, he appeared utterly insatiable.
“You can.” Sanemi’s voice is so raspy and deep that you were positive he was far gone. He continues to thrust deep inside of you that your back hits the futon with each thrust. He’s strong - far stronger than you’d ever hope to be - and getting him to stop was going to be difficult.
You felt the hot tears pool down your cheeks. You were being stretched out far too much for you to keep your composure. You were clenching around him so heavenly that he never wanted to stop - never wanted to be out of you; without you.
“Nemi, please…”
Sanemi’s hips buckled and he halts his movements.
Keep going - the voice in his mind tells him.
But it’s your sadden pleas that has his sanity coming back - just for a moment. He witnesses your tears falling and his heart aches - was he the one making you cry?
Sanemi goes to pull himself out, but you stop him. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer to you. His chest is against yours while your lips lined up against his ears. You’re panting, attempting to catch your breath and adjust to his size.
Sanemi’s arms wrap around your body, the intimate moment was one he wished he could remain in forever; never wishing to let you go.
“Nemi?”
You clench around him and Sanemi hums a response. You loosen your hold onto him, a signal that you wanted him to continue.
Sanemi grinds inside of you, his hold on you only growing tighter. He’s deep, never wishing to be anywhere else but inside of you. He picks up his pace, noticing how your cries were becoming moans.
This is what sex felt like. The pain was slowly subsiding and the pleasure was taking over. You can hear the way your pussy sounds against his pumping cock - wet and inviting, satiating his hunger for you.
Sanemi releases his hold on you to lean back. His eyes are hooded as he watches the way your breast bounces. He picks up the pace, cock sliding in and out of you - rougher, deeper, faster.
So beautiful, Sanemi thinks. So beautiful and his - all his. The dark thoughts were coming back with each passing second and his sanity was losing to the demonic spell.
You yourself felt whatever sanity you had left was now leaving. You no longer cared if Sanemi was hurting you or not - what you did know was that now you felt good; so good. His cock pumps inside of you at an alarming pace that would even be considered pleasurable if you weren’t receiving it.
Sanemi’s hands grip your breast so tightly that he's sure they would leave marks. His eyes fixated on the bulge of your stomach, mind racing with the thought of you round and pregnant with his child. He allows one hand to leave your breast to cup your stomach, rubbing lightly as he fucks you.
“I can’t wait to fuck a baby in you.”
Sanemi’s words would cause you to gasp if you weren’t caught in the moment. Your mind was fucked out with how good he’s fucking you that a baby didn’t seem bad - how the two of you forgotten about the world full of demons and the mission you were currently on.
“Get you nice and pregnant. I’ll take care of you.” He’s now hitting your g-spot as he speaks, eyes completely blown out with pleasure. Your knees are touching your shoulders and you’re positive you’ve never been this flexible before. “I’ll take care of all of our kids.”
You’re crying beneath him, pleasure overwhelming. Your sobs don’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t care. He’ll fuck you until he was done - fuck you until he was sure you were pregnat with the child he was promising you.
“I want them to look just like you. So perfect.” Sanemi moans at the thought of you full of cum, round with his child.
You’re cumming, writhing beneath him. You’re soaking the futon beneath the two of you, but neither of you care. Sanemi was on a mission - a rampage. Nothing was going to stop him from achieving his perverted dreams.
Sanemi cums deep inside of you, twitching as he does so. He’s panting while sweat pools off of his skin and onto yours.
Sanemi wants more.
He flips you over, face burning into the futon. He enters you like an animal, continuing the brutal pace. He’s fucking into you deeper, your screams echoing off the room walls. If anyone was inside the inn, neither of you cared. He almost wished someone was listening so they could hear how good he was fucking you.
You’re drooling. You could no longer focus on anything but the cock inside of you - and even then you wanted more. Was this what heaven felt like? Paradise? To be stuff so good but the man you adored that you never wanted it to end?
How could you go back to pleasuring yourself when Sanemi knew how to do it so wonderfully?
Sanemi filled you again - three more times before he changed the position. He brought you on top of him and fucked into you, not allowing you any control. The stamina of a Hashira was amazing. He fucked you like a ragdoll, but you had no complaints.
His fucking dragged on majority of the night - against the wall, in his arms, on your back, on your side - every position he deemed fuckable, he had you in.He would hiss such dirty worlds in your ears that you’d convulse into a cumming mess for him.
One things for certain - neither of you wanted this night to end.
Your legs ached, as did the entirety of your body.
You stirred away, the sun from the open window blinding your eyes.
You push yourself up from the futon, the blanket you were wrapped in falling to expose your naked figure.
You were sore and one look at your appearance has your mind fluttering with memories.
“Nemi…?” you call out to nothing. You were alone in the room the two of you shared the night prior. You scanned the area to find no trace of him - not even his belongings.
Your legs tremble as you stand to your feet. You take nearly 10 minutes to get dressed, but you cannot be blamed. Your body is covered with bruises and marks that hiding it with Sanemi’s gifted haori was difficult, but manageable.
You make your way out of the room, belongings in hand. You walk past the innkeeper who doesn’t say a word - a different woman from the first two you met the day prior.
“CAW!”
Hiyori flies above you just as you exit the inn. If you had to guess, it was an hour before noon.
“Y/L Y/N is to report to the Butterfly Mansion for treatment! Y/L Y/N and others to the Butterfly Mansion!”
“Hiyori.” you call the crow, holding out your arm. “Where’s Sanemi?”
“Shinazugawa-sama has left on his own in the morning!”
Left.
Sanemi had left you here?
Alone?
“Y/N!”
It’s Sumire and Roshi, returning back to you appearing slightly disheveled.
“W-What-”
“Don’t ask.” Sumire’s flushing bright red.
“Please.” Rochi murmurs and you notice none of them can look the other in the eye.
Your mind connects the dots.
You and Sanemi were not the only two subjected to the demon’s spell.
“Did you see Sanemi leave?” you ask the two slayers.
“Yes. Shinazugawa-sama took the others and left. We were told to wait for you.” Sumire exclaims. “Didn’t say much but to wait until you were up to head to the Butterfly Mansion.”
You nod your head. You swallow, heart aching with the realization that Sanemi had left you.
Had Sanemi regretted the night with you? Had he woke up disgusted with your actions that he didn’t even wish to look at you?
No.
Sanemi wasn’t like this. He didn’t run from his issues. He had to go to the Butterfly Mansion with the other slayers. You wouldn’t think too much into it.
But it was hard not to think too much into it, you think. The entire journey to the Butterfly Mansion had left you completely distracted by memories of the previous night and the nervousness of having to face the Wind Hashira once more.
The Butterfly Mansion was hectic, nurses scurrying around to help while Kakushi lined up to do the same. You almost felt out of place coming here. You didn’t even have any scars from the attack with the demon and it appears Sumire and Roshi were alright, as well, only a bit awkward.
“Are you two alright?” you turn to the two slayers who nod, avoiding contact with the other. “The mission wasn’t as deadly as we expected. The Lower Moon-”
“Lower Moon?!” Roshi and Sumire gasp in unison with wide eyes. “There was a lower moon there?” Sumire questions.
“We fought off a few demons but they weren’t strong. They might have been only a few years turned.”
You nod your head. “Yes.” you look between the two of them. “Her demon art was…powerful. Are you sure the two of you are alright?”
You see flashes in your mind of you and Sanemi together the entirety of the night.
“Yes.” Roshi’s cheeks are dusty red.
“Yea.” Sumire responds, as well.
You nod your head and offer the two of them a soft smile. “Okay. Good job on the mission.” you tell them. “Please rest.”
Your eyes watch Sumire and Hoshi scurry away and you release an exhausted sigh.
“Y/N?”
Your head snaps to the sound of your name. You bow to Shinobu who does the same.
“Are you alright? I heard your mission was successful by Shinazugawa.”
You nod your head. “Yes. I returned just now.” you wondered what else Sanemi had told her. “It’s hectic here.”
“Indeed it is. Uzui has returned with Tanjiro, Inosuke and Zenitsu. An Upper Moon was defeated.”
Your eyes widen. “An Upper Moon? Are they safe?” you returned seemingly fine after your battle - if you can even call it that, the demon appeared far too weak to be considered a part of the 12 Kizuki. You couldn’t imagine fighting an Upper Moon.
“Recovering. They’re all fallen into coma’s but we’re positive they will recover.”
A sigh of relief comes from your lips. “Uzui-san? Is he here?”
“Was. He left hours before you returned. He has retired as a Hashira.”
You were sure your eyes were going to pop out their socket one of these days. The sudden information was hitting you at each possible angle.
“I know you’ve grown attached to the younger slayers. Maybe you can come visit them once everything settles down.” Shinobu offers a smile. “Uzui is at his estate with his wives as if he didn’t lose an eye or hand. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”
“Huh?!” your hands clench at - yet again - another sudden information. Uzui was a Hashira, so tall and muscular and extremely skilled.
“Uzui is fine, truly. Rambling on about appearing even more flashy with an eyepatch.” Shinobu giggles slightly. “How are you, Y/N? Shinazugawa was here earlier but nothing appeared to be wrong with him or the others. I assume the same goes for you?”
You swallow and nod.
“Good.” Shinobu scans your appearance. You had the white haori that once belonged to Sanemi wrapped tightly around your frame. You showed no skin - which wasn’t exactly alarming, but you also never appeared so awkwardly nervous.
Shinobu’s eyes are beautiful, so large and deep purple. Now, however, they seemed to be looking into your soul, searching for your deepest and darkest secrets.
“I should be going now, Shinobu-san.” you bow.
“Don’t be a stranger, Y/N.” she offers a curt wave. “I love the new glow you have to you.” that tone in her voice - you feel hot with embarrassment. She was teasing you.
“CAW!”
You haven’t been outside for more than five minutes before Hiyori returns.
“Oyakata-sama has sent for you!”
“Ah.” you sigh deeply. “I suppose I can see what Oyakata-sama needs.”
You made your journey towards the Ubuyashiki Estate, Hiyori soaring above you. It doesn’t take long and upon entering you note that Oyakata has already been waiting for your appearance.
You bow in front of him. “Oyakata-sama. I have arrived.”
Kagaya offers a curt smile. “Y/L Y/N. It is nice to be in your presence once more.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Oyakata-sama.”
You lift your head, knees remaining on the ground.
“Congratulations on returning from your mission safely. You have defeated a Lower Moon.” Kagaya praises.
Your heart feels full to be praised.
“Thank you, Oyakata-sama. But please, it was nothing. Uzui-san and the others are the true remarkable ones.” You still cannot fathom coming in the presence of such a remarkably strong demon.
“You also deserve praise, Y/N.” Kagaya says. “You managed to defeat a Lower Moon. There’s many slayers who did not have the same fate.”
You nod to yourself. You suppose he was right.
“You would make an exceptional Wind Hashira if the title was not already occupied.” Kagaya compliments once more. “I am content that you, my child, are a part of the Corps.”
“Thank you, Oyakata-sama.” you say, standing to your feet.
“Thank you, Y/N.” Kagaya said, but before you could speak, he continued. “Sanemi has transformed for the better. I assume that it is your doing.”
You swallow at the sound of Sanemi’s name. You had yet to see him and speak about what has happened during the mission.
“I cannot take responsibility for Shinazugawa-san’s credibility. He was always an amazing Hashira before me!”
Kagaya chuckles to himself lowly. “Indeed he was, my child. But behind every great man, there’s a partner. A woman like yourself.” Kagaya lightly pets the crow that sits beside him. His head remains straight forward, body unmoving. “Give yourself more grace, Y/N. You are free to go as you please. Thank you for speaking with me.”
“Y-Yes.” you inhale a response, bowing before turning away. “Thank you, Oyakata-sama.”
The master's words replay in your head as you make your way to Sanemi’s estate. You deserve praise, he said. You changed Sanemi for the better. Did you, though? Sanemi always appeared amazing to you - at any and everything he did. Sure he had a temper but it was never towards you. Maybe Sanemi had taken the swear the two of you made seriously.
Entering the mansion, you note just how quiet it was inside. Where was Sanemi? You knew he returned earlier in the day.
You decided to not dwell on it and bathe. You hadn’t had the chance to upon waking up, only a light wash up. Witnessing the bruises and bites littering your skin causes you to flush at the memory of you and Sanemi together.
Hours had passed since you bathed and since then you had managed to cook dinner for the two of you - Sanemi’s dish had sat cold. You pondered where he could possibly be - surely Oyakata-sama didn’t send him on another mission.
You began to feel as if Sanemi was purposely avoiding you. As days dragged on, you had yet to see him. You continued your training alone, not witnessing any sight of him. You would eat alone without him, always setting a plate down for him that he would eat whenever he did return while you were gone.
It was only when the second week dragged on did Sanemi return, though barely. You caught a glimpse of him entering the bathroom just as you finished dinner. You waited for him to enter, and when he finally had you were left disappointed. He didn’t spare you a glance, entering his bedroom and not exiting.
Weeksn dragged on and you noticed that you and Sanemi no longer attended missions together. Hiyori would come and deliver your own solo missions and you’d go - not having someone besides you had your heart yearning for company.
While Sanemi obviously ignored you, you would often visit Uzui and his wives. You’d relax at the onsen with them while not on missions, often eating dinner. Uzui was not a fool to notice the look in your eyes - you were attempting to get your mind off of a certain white haired bastard.
You visited Inosuke and Zenitsu, offering them sweets while they trained and waited for Tanjiro to wake. You remained cooking for Shinra, Genya and Muichiro when the three were free, Sanemi’s place at the table untouched.
There was a shift that everyone noticed. Sanemi’s attitude was going back to what it once was - abrasive and rash. The slayers had to tiptoe around him once more, not having you around as their savior.
The Hashira has since taken note that there was something wrong with you and Sanemi. Shinobu had seen more of the Wind hashira at the Butterfly Estate to heal petty wounds that he'd usually got to you for - when she asked why he was there, he had snapped at her and stated that it was “her job” to do so.
Obanai and Sanemi train together often, now more than ever. He would visit the Serpent estate to train just so he didn’t have to be home - Iguro never questioned him.
Muichiro is air headed and often stuck in his own mind when he wasn’t out on missions. But he recognizes a shift in your behavior. Your eyes are sadder than he remembers them and all he can think to do is do the things he liked to do - with you. He’d watch the clouds with you, not speaking unless you did. He would make origami with you, claiming that yours were trash - it caused you to laugh at his insensitive truth - and would end up gifting you one of his origami pieces.
Mitsuri’s would often feed you, claiming that whenever she was down, she desired to eat delicious foods. She didn’t want to ask anything of you and Sanemi’s relationship, but she just hoped that whatever did happen that it would end soon.
You were grateful for everyone's attempts in changing your mood and it would be selfish to say that it didn’t work. However, as the second month kicks, you realize just how foolish you feel. Your head has been far too into Sanemi and why he was ignoring you (and your own separate missions) that you ignored your own overall health.
“Y/N.”
Shinobu tilts her head at you, curiosity in her eyes. Her face turns to a look of concern.
“Pregnant.” you repeat her words.
Could you even be surprised? You were in the second month since the mission in Shinjuku. The last thing on your mind upon returning was a contraceptive and even when you woke up feeling less than yourself, you still couldn’t accept that you were with child.
“You must think I’m so stupid.” you laugh humorlessly at Shinobu, insect-like eyes watching your every move.
“Of course not!” Shinobu denies. “Why would you think such a thing?”
You inhale deeply. You thought as much because it was what you were feeling. Stupid - pregnant by Sanemi and it appeared now that he wanted nothing to do with you. Stupid for getting pregnant when your occupation was killing demons.
“Y/N. Are things with you and Shinazugawa…good?” Shinobu doesn’t want to pry, but now you were with child and appeared disgusted, concerned and frightened all at once.
You swallow, throat tightening. “Yes.” you murmur, an obvious lie. Everyone has noticed the shift in the relationship between the two of you and now Shinobu has an idea as to why.
“I assume Shinazugawa doesn’t know.” Shinobu states. “Y/N…there’s ways we can go about this now. If you aren’t ready I can assure you it will be painless.”
You blink at Shinobu’s words. You haven’t thought about a moment like this happening - not even the moment between you and Sanemi. When you arrived from the mission, you desired to see him and talk about whatever relationship the two of you had. But Sanemi turned cold, ignoring your presence all together and waving you off whenever you attempted to.
“If you do wish to keep the child, I will inform Oyakata-sama of the predicament and get you off from your missions. Since you’re early in the pregnancy, I’m sure you won’t have to-”
“I want to terminate.” you interrupt Shinobu. The Insect Hashira tries not to appear shocked by your words. She would never judge you for whatever decision you chose.
You watch Shinobu nod her head. You couldn’t imagine bringing a child into the world now - not while you were a part of the Corps. It also wouldn’t be fair to Sanemi. You lived in his house, after all. He had made his decision when it came to whatever relationship you had and you were now making yours.
It’s nightfall when you return back to Sanemi’s estate and you’re surprised to see him at the table eating and Sanemi appears to be just as surprised to see you. Upon returning home from his rounds, he assumed you were in bed for the night - but he was proven wrong when you strolled through the shoji doors.
Lilac eyes meet yours and Sanemi notes that there’s something wrong with you. He remains silent, as do you. His heart continues to jolt in your presence, hands yearning to touch your soft skin again.
“Shinazugawa.” you murmur your acknowledgment to him.
Shinazugawa.
You never called him that, Sanemi things. But he doesn’t have the right to feel away about it.
“Thank you for allowing me to stay here.” you begin. Sanemi drops his chopsticks, attention fully on you. “I’m grateful to have been trained by you.”
Where were you going with this?
“I’ll be taking my leave.”
You turn away from him, Sanemi watching your figure saunter down the hall. He hears your shoji doors open but not close. There’s shuffling in your room and now he decides to get up to see what you were doing.
“Where are you going?” Sanemi’s heart is pounding now at the sight of you holding a bag with your belongings. It’s the first time he spoke to you directly.
“I’ve…decided to leave.”
Sanemi glances away. “Where are you going?”
You shift in your stance. “I’ve spoken to Oyakata-sama. I have a few missions lined up before I leave the Corps.”
Sanemi’s head snaps to you. He’s checking your face for any sign of deceit. He doesn’t find any - instead your eyes are lined with moisture. Your throat is bobbing as if attempting to not cry at the words you’re speaking.
“I’m sorry that I’ve become a burden.”
Reach out to her - Sanemi things.
Hold her.
Tell her she was never a burden.
Sanemi remains silent.
You stroll past him, your familiar scent passing him.
“You don’t have to leave.” Sanemi calls just as you’re a foot out the door.
You don’t want to leave.
Sanemi doesn’t want you to leave.
Apologize to her.
Tell her how you feel.
Tell her you love her.
Sanemi’s mind races with his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize you’re already leaving.
“Y/N-” Sanemi follows behind you, pace picking up to reach you. “Where are you going now? After you leave the Corps?”
You feel Sanemi’s hand around your wrist to stop you from walking.
“Back home.” you respond, unable to look at him. You made your decision to leave and going against that wouldn’t be the correct decision for you.
Sanemi gulps. He releases his hand from your wrist.
“I hope you don’t feel as if it was a waste of time training me. I wasn’t a part of the Corps for long.”
You were never a waste of his time, Sanemi wants to say, but his mind is racing and his heart is longing for you.
Why were you going back home to your father? The same man that sold you to someone - that abused you for years on end?
“Thank you, Sanemi. For everything. I must be going.”
Tell her to stay.
Tell her she doesn’t have to leave here - leave you.
Tell her you love her- that you pushed her away because you were disgusted with yourself.
Tell her how horrible you felt that you took advantage of her innocence.
Sanemi doesn’t say anything and instead watches until your figure disappears. For the first time in years, he feels like he could shed tears at the loss of someone he loved.
Final Part
#afab reader#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba smut#sanemi smut#sanemi x reader#all night#cruel world#sanemi-whore#taisho era#taisho era rumors#demon slayer smut#kny smut#kny x you#demon slayer x reader#taisho era secrets#shinazugawa x reader#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi angst#kny angst#kny fanfic#sanemi fluff
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Hold on, man... I'm having Thoughts and Emotions...
What if Stolas and Octavia made plans to watch the solar eclipse together on Earth to make up for not seeing Azathoth's tears? And maybe Octavia suddenly suggested inviting Blitzø and Loona over as well, since they were all together that other time, too?
And when Blitzø sees the awkward text from Stolas inviting them (I'd understand if you're busy or would rather not come, but Octavia seemed keen on the idea of seeing Loona again), he isn't sure he wants to go, because things with Stolas have been so weird lately, and he's deeply in denial about the feelings they have for one another. But Loona kicks him in the butt about it because he's being stupid, and so he reluctantly texts Stolas trying to sound as nonchalant as possible (shur y nut, portal plz) while freaking out inside.
And he doesn't know what he was expecting as he crossed that portal, but a mountaintop above the clouds is definitely not it.
“Thank you for coming,” Stolas says, and Blitzø can't help but notice the way Stolas bows to him—and then he pushes that information aside, not knowing what to do with it. “I hope the localisation is fine, and not too cold. Anywhere else would've been too crowded.”
“It's whatever,” Blitzø shrugs, and hates the way some of the light leaves Stolas' smile. He's only been here for half a minute and he's already messed things up.
Next to them, Octavia is explaining the intricacies of solar eclipses in detail to Loona. Absent-mindedly, Blitzø notices the way Loona softens around Via, but keeps it to himself, not wanting to be kicked in the nuts. Instead, he looks around for a semi-comfortable stone and plops down on it, wincing when Stolas sits carefully by his side.
He's searching desperately for something to say when Stolas announces, “Look up, everyone, it's about to start!”
At first, Blitzø notices nothing. Well, nothing but the mild discomfort of staring directly at the sun.
But then he sees it. The moon—a corner of it, anyway—overtaking the powerful star. And, for a second, he can't breathe.
Of course, the partial eclipse lasts long enough that conversation sparks up again, though awkward and sporadic. Stolas asks about work, Via talks about the moon's mountains. Blitzø tries to quieten the voice that says he doesn't deserve to be here.
But when the total eclipse nears, they're all too entranced to talk. As darkness washes over the sea of clouds below them, the seconds seem to slow, and each of his heartbeats thrums through him, echoing in the ground underneath him. He's one with the earth and the sky, and, when it all goes dark, the whole universe stops breathing with him to experience this.
He only remembers to breathe when, in the complete darkness, he feels thin, long fingers curling around his own.
Too entranced to remember all the reasons why he's not allowed to want this, Blitzø squeezes Stolas' hand firmly back.
They are one. Of course they are. How could they not be, when the sun and the moon themselves are?
It's less than two minutes before the sunlight begins regaining its territory and washing away the darkness, but it might as well be a lifetime.
A lifetime he spends with Stolas' hand clasped firmly in his own, surrounded by their daughters, marvelling at the vastness of the universe. Feeling like, maybe, they're all insignificant enough to deserve all the love they can find.
But, inevitably, the moment passes and reality settles back in.
Blitzø doesn't want the moment to end, but, of course, the moment doesn't care. And, too scared to keep holding on to a hope that feels as fragile and ephemeral as an eclipse, Blitzø lets go of Stolas' hand.
#helluva boss#stolitz#I'm unwell#Crying in European who didn't see any eclipse#Also it's 4am anf I am FALLING ASLEEP HELP#Taking my nonbinary ass to bed right now#Wanted to put this out in the world first#I need fanart of these blorbos watching the eclipse so bad gjgjzuhshldfjh
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Enchanted
Pairing: Cassian x reader
Plot: Cassian finds his mate during Starfall
A/n I was watching the Eras tour last night (yes I’m a die hard Swiftie) and was inspired to write this when she performed Enchanted. I decided to write it about Cassian because I feel like he needs more love on here.
Cassian really didn’t want to be here celebrating, not when a few months ago he nearly died during the battle with Hybern. He reluctantly agreed, only because he wanted to please his high lord and lady, but if it was up to him, he would be locked away in his room.
After only being at the celebration for a few hours, Cassian was ready to make an excuse to leave the party.
That’s when he spotted you in the middle of the dance floor, dancing alone, with no care in the world. Cassian couldn’t help but admire your free spirit and wondered if you came to the celebration with a significant other or if you came here with friends. He didn’t know why, but he started growing jealous at the thought of you possibly being here with another male.
“That’s y/n,” Rhysand commented, and scared Cassian because he didn’t realize his brother was standing next to him: “She’s good friends with Feyre,” Rhysand added when he realized Cassian was probably wondering how he knew what your name was: “You should go dance with her. From what Feyre has told me, she got out of a relationship not long ago and is trying to get out and have some fun.”
The old Cassian would jump at the chance to bed a beautiful female like yourself, but he couldn’t bring him to do it, at least not tonight: “I’m not like that anymore,” Cassian replied.
Rhysand gave Cassian an amused look at his explanation and earned a punch from his brother: “I’m trying not to be like that anymore. I want what you and Feyre have. I want to find my mate but don’t know how I’ll find her. How did you know Feyre was your mate?”
Rhysand began explaining what he felt before finding out Feyre was his mate. Halfway through Rhysand’s explanation, Cassian couldn’t help but look over at you again and felt as if someone knocked the wind out of him. Rhysand seemed to notice and patted Cassian on the shoulder: “I’m going to repeat myself: go ask y/n, your mate to dance.”
Without giving himself a chance to second guess himself, Cassian walked up to you and lightly tapped your shoulder: “How can I-” You went silent when you made eye contact with Cassian: “General Cassian, how may I help you?”
“Dance with me?” Cassian asked, point blank: “Please?”
There were gasps from jealous females as they watched Cassian extend his hand to you: “I would be honored to dance with you,” you smiled at Cassian and took his hand.
Luck seemed to be on Cassian’s side that night because the second he pulled you up against his chest, a slow song started playing. “So general,” you spoke to break the tension between the two of you: “How are you enjoying Starfall?”
“Please, call me Cassian, and it’s better now that I’m dancing with the most beautiful female in all of Prythian,” Cassian replied; a warm smile appeared on his face: “What about you?”
You tried not to let Cassian’s words get to you, but a shy smile crept up on your face at his compliment: “I was doing ok until a handsome Illyrian man complimented me, and now I don’t know how to act.”
Cassian felt his ego boost at your comment and found himself holding you a little tighter. He was about to ask you when Rhysand announced the show was about to begin. Cassian leaned in and whispered into your ear: “Come with me. I know a better view.”
You were going to question him where because you already had a perfect view of the sky when Cassian decided to carry you bridal style out and into the skies. “Cassian, where are you taking me. We’re going to miss the stars,” you asked while burying your face into Cassian’s chest.
“Don’t worry, we’ll still see it,” Cassian reassured you.
You were starting to get worried about where Cassian was taking you until he finally landed on a mountaintop. “Did you bring me here to get murdered?”
Cassian tried not to laugh at your question: “No, I didn’t bring you here to get murdered. I brought you here so we could watch this,” Cassian pointed to the sky and noticed the stars passing by: “I brought you here so we can watch this without any background noise.”
You were in awe as you looked up at the sky and saw stars shooting across the sky. “No matter how many times I’ve seen this, I’ll never get tired of it,” you gushed: “Good call coming over here to watch it. While I love celebrating with others, it’s nice to watch this in silence.”
While your eyes were glued to the sky, Cassian stared down at you with nothing but love and adoration. He couldn’t believe that after so long, he was finally face to face with this mate. His only problem was that he didn't know if he should let you know right away that you mates or if he should wait until you get to know each other better.
Feeling Cassian’s stare, you looked up at him confused: “What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” you started touching your cheeks.
Cassian found himself chuckling at your question and replied: “No. I’m just admiring your beauty,” causing your cheeks to turn warm.
“You Illyrian males are something else,” you smiled at the Illyrian male.
Something inside Cassian finally snapped, and he found himself leaning in to kiss you. You were expecting the kiss to be rough and rushed, but it was the complete opposite. Cassian was kissing you so gently, like he was afraid you were going to break under his touch. His large, rough hands were resting at the small of your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You didn’t know how long you kissed Cassian, but you started craving more of him. He was all you could think of, and you started to feel a sense of dread at the mere thought of being away from him. As soon as Cassian pulls away, you hear the words you never thought you’d hear in your lifetime, especially from someone like Cassian: “I thought I’d never find you, my beautiful mate.”
“Mate?” you repeated in surprise: “We’re mates?”
Cassian simply nodded, worried sketched on his face. He was afraid you would reject him, even though you shared what he thought was an extraordinary kiss.
“Mates,” you repeated once again; this time, you smiled up at him: “You’re my mate.”
“I’m your mate,” Cassian leaned in again, but just as he was about to kiss you, he whispered: “Happy Starfall, my beautiful mate,” and kissed you again.
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second best (pt 2) — iwaizumi hajime
notes: at last, the heavily requested part 2 to this fic !! i really hope it met a lot of your guys’ standards — i tried my best to take as much of your requests into account ^_^ i rlly dislike m the flow of this … but hopefully u guys still enjoy LOL
tags: angst → (bittersweet?) fluff, depressive episode (reader), swearing (once), a longgg process of grief and healing and whatnot, alcoholism (only briefly), roommate! tsukishima, best friend! oikawa, tsukishima does NOT have feelings for you, not proofread and quite long
taglist (incl. everyone who asked for a pt 2 !!): @altumsomnum @gennaray @romanticandupsetting @multi-fandom-fanfic
it was tuesday.
a frigid air pierced your limbs and left you to rot away, with the windows shut tight and the door locked. there was no mistakening the dark bags hanging beneath your eyes or the flakes of skin peeling from your bottom lip, nor the soft pleas of your stomach or the iciness of your fingertips. you basked in eternal slumber and silence and darkness and whatnot, save for the ticks of a clock that was 14 minutes behind and the hum of the air conditioning.
you were not frightened in the slightest. the warning signs plastered on your flesh were no great concern, and you could not fathom the idea of having to function again. it was horribly consuming.
with a groan, you released yourself from bed, your legs trembling under the mere weight of the air. you avoided the collections of trash and clothes splayed across the floor, being careful not to disturb the peace that had formed over the past handful of weeks. the sight of the kitchen was much more refreshing.
you were locked in stasis. contrary to the comfort these walls once provided, they now served as a a form of imprisonment, designed to allow the grief and the sorrow and the anger and the guilt to coalesce and spill over. it was terribly suffocating — you wished to escape.
gently, you poured a cup of water (not that you drank more than a sip, anyways). a thought passed your mind.
you needed to leave.
sendai was a home you could not find solace in anymore. gone was the youth encapsulated in the mountaintops and the hidden pathways and the convenience stores, and no longer could you feel at ease when faced with the neighborhoods you familiarized yourself with as a child.
your new apartment was shared with an old face — one you had only seen glances of in high school, notorious for his glasses and upfront attitude. he bore no hesitance when taking you in. instead, he was grateful for your presence, as if splitting the rent with him had taken off his life’s burden off of his shoulders.
he was quick to set ground rules — laundry days were on saturdays, trash needed to be taken out on sundays, the dish washer had to be clear at the end of the day, all groceries were shared, so on and so forth. you weren’t sure if you could keep up.
it took one week for him to actually conversate.
“why did you come back here?” he questioned, with a tone that implied he knew of you for years upon years (which would be false).
you picked at the skin of your lip. “why do you ask?”
“no reason. just curious.”
in a burst of energy, you recounted the tales of your past life, one of love and youth and joy; of the old apartment, of your past hobbies, of hajime. his gaze was so distant that you weren’t sure if he was listening at all.
in return, he expressed brief apologies and turned the story to himself — he discussed his volleyball career, his teammates, how he felt somewhat disconnected from his high school friends. he did not care to mention the exhaustion riddled into the pores on your face nor the weakness of your voice. that was all you needed. a conversation, not comfort.
only an hour later did he remind you of his name — tsukishima kei — and it was only then that you realized you had moved into an apartment without taking any precautions whatsoever. he laughed when you informed him of the situation.
this was not yet a home, but it was a house. and that was sufficient.
a month had passed before tsukishima forced you to get a job. he was clearly not a fool — at some point (you couldn’t tell when), he realized you were paying off your share of the rent with your life savings, which irked him ever so slightly.
“do you plan on moving out and dying on the streets when you run out?” he complained, despite the concern laced in the fluctuations of his voice.
you began working at his former high school coach’s family store. the owner himself was welcoming — he didn’t question your circumstances nor your physical state, and merely mentioned in passing that he was “given a token of appreciation from a prized student.”
and so began the cycle. on weekday mornings, you would depart for work and tsukishima would leave for practice. occasionally, he would pack you lunch (“only because i had leftovers,” he’d say) or leave a can of coffee on the counter for you. you would work at the register until the amalgamation of students died down, and once you were left with an empty store, you would take a break and go on a walk (as requested by your boss). then, you would return in the afternoon to serve the same population of children, handing them their ice cream and their sandwiches and whatnot. when they all disappeared, the coach would let you free and dismiss you with a “good work today, let’s do it again tomorrow.”
returning home was your favorite part of the schedule. a majority of the time, tsukishima arrived later than you, leaving you to your own time until he came home with dinner and a drink.
it was a monotonous cycle, but enjoyable nonetheless.
“i’m cutting off the beer for a month,” tsukishima exclaimed one warm summer night. you left your room to see him collecting unopened bottles and discarding them in a trash bag with little regard. you could only frown.
“those are all going to waste, we haven’t even opened them,” you groaned.
there was no response from the man as he continued to clear the apartment of any alcohol, akin to a parent cleansing their child’s home. before you could protest any further, he shut the door behind him and the crashing of bottles against one another could be heard beside the building.
tsukishima re-entered the apartment with empty hands and furrowed brows. “what’s up with the shitty face?” you asked from the couch.
he clicked his tongue at your comment and bore no response, instead letting his eyes wander to the screen in front of you. the morning news was playing, as usual. and yet, it was so wrong.
the screen flashed to a familiar face, one clad with a slight grin and sweat spread over his skin. his hair had grown slightly and his complexion had darkened, evidence of his labor. but most of all, he looked happy. his eyes screamed with a passion you hadn’t seen before, and despite his haggard appearance, he seemed to be content.
you did not see tsukishima rushing to turn off the television. you did not see the screen turn black, and you did not hear the noise diminish. you did not see tsukishima’s face adjacent to yours.
“hey. let’s go outside,” he muttered before moving to pull you up and out of the house
a delicate breeze washed over you both. the sun began to kiss you goodbye, and the noon crept up in its wake, leaving both of you in the dark.
“he looked so happy,” you whispered. “i don’t know what i’m doing wrong.”
you watched tsukishima light a cigarette in your peripherals, his lighter evidently battered and marred from heavy use. he made no move to offer one to you. “you’re not doing anything wrong,” he spoke firmly, although you could tell he was struggling to formulate the right combination of words in his head. “he’s just… going along a different path.”
“it should’ve been us on the same path. i feel so stupid. he’s gone on to do such great things, and i… what am i doing?”
tsukishima didn’t push the conversation any further. you were grateful.
a week had passed before tsukishima told you he had gotten you a new job, one deeper in the city. on an early sunday morning, he presented a uniform and badge to you, your name imprinted on both. the effort made you smile.
at some point, a new cycle formed. the museum was a far cry from the run down family store, and tsukishima taught you how to welcome it with an open mind and open arms. he never did mention the exact reason for the new occupation, nor did he tell you why he was so adamant on enforcing routine in your life. nonetheless, you appreciated it.
the mundanity that your new job encapsulated was slightly more enjoyable than that of your former job. exploring the concrete rooms filled with statues and paintings and whatnot was a sufficient way to pass the time. every now and then, you’d catch your roommate detailing a specific sculpture to a curious visitor, the scene contrasting his typical behavior. not that you would ever mention it to him, though.
a new routine was not unwelcome, but it did not feel impactful anymore. you still burned blue in the night, your bones aching with reminiscence over a lost life. your hands and legs still knew tokyo; they still knew the morning commutes and the bustling cafés and the chirping crosswalks and your own home, one that had been so devastatingly haunted by grief. your heart still knew the morning calls and the evening texts and the handfuls upon handfuls of promises made on once solid territory, and yet, you knew to return to it was to betray yourself.
you missed iwaizumi hajime.
rather, you missed the life that you formulated in his presence, opposed to the shambles you had grown comfortable in now that you were back home. tsukishima had carved a clay pot for your worn soul, and yet you could not help but yearn for the comfort and stability and routine you established in a past life.
the soft padding of feet echoed outside your door. soft strings of light streamed under your door as your roommate entered the kitchen, his actions indiscernible as he maneuvered about carefully. you decided to step out to greet him.
a startled tsukishima turned around to face you. “what are you still doing up?” he interrogated, albeit not in offense. “it’s late. we have work tomorrow.”
“but i don’t want to go to work. i want to go home,” you protested. you felt childish all over again — the thirst for selfishness was one that could not escape you, even now. an overwhelming desire to be in control of your own life.
tsukishima furrowed his brows. “to tokyo?” you nodded. “okay… then let’s go to tokyo.” he paid no mind to the slanted smile that transformed your lips, instead opting to turn away and fill up his bottle. “but why?”
“i need to escape,” you sighed, as if releasing a burden that had been lingering for a moment too long. “i need change. i just- i feel so stuck. i need to live.”
he merely hummed in agreement before uttering a comment about your poor sleeping schedule and ushering you back to bed.
tokyo was a city of hopes and dreams and noise. the shift from sendai’s cicada lullabies and whispers in the wind to the incessant chatter and obnoxious roads of the city was significant — any pedestrian would notice the irritation on you and tsukishima’s faces.
the inn he picked was small, yet slightly more comfortable than your current abode. the owners were kind and your neighbors were quiet, save for the occasional drunk couple. it was a life you remembering living, but not one you yearned for any longer.
in the night, you would both visit various attractions and markets and restaurants, with tsukishima insisting on paying for your meals (“as thanks for getting a life,” he argued). for that handful of days, you bore a smile that you weren’t sure would grace your lips ever again, for there was an adolescence in the evening activities that mended the remnants of your spirit. you felt whole.
on the last day, you brought tsukishima to a ramen house nearby the inn and promised to pay for the meal. it was a tuesday, again.
for reasons you could not discover, that appeared to be one of the busiest nights for the establishment — moments after you had settled, a line began to form, and the tables were crowded with families and friend groups and dates alike.
amidst the composition of metropolitans stood a man you wished you didn’t have to see. as if it were punishment, he locked his eyes with yours, the shock in his complimenting your dread.
you watched as he excused himself from his group while ignoring the cheers and shouts about him “shooting his shot.” tsukishima observed in tandem, seemingly reading the situation from a distance despite sitting right across from you.
you noticed the bold athletic trainer embroidered onto his chest, and the fitted red shirt he wore that matched those of his team. beads of sweat compiled on his forehead — you weren’t sure if it was from the density of the room or his exhaustion or anxiety. a small part of you hoped it was the second option.
“hey,” he began. “can- can we speak outside?”
you could not help but oblige.
hajime seemed to have developed an obsession with fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. you noticed the frayed strands on a spot that aligned perfectly with his hand, and you nearly laughed.
he coughed into his fist before rambling. “i’m sorry. i know you definitely don’t want to see me, and it’s not wrong of you at all to feel that way, but i just- i’ve thought about you- no, i think about you every day up until now. i know i don’t deserve you at all, and me being here is probably super upsetting, but-“
“hajime.”
the way you called his name seemed to deteriorate him and his principles. you finally felt otherwise.
“i really, really, didn’t want to see you at all. i don’t even want the thought of you to pass my mind. i’ve built a life outside of you and i’m tired of you interrupting it.” you witnessed his heart, mind, and body freeze simultaneously.
“i- i understand that, i know, i’m sorry. i’ve been- i’ve been reflecting a lot recently and i’ve known i was horribly in the wrong and i’m ashamed to have done nothing about it, and i know this sounds really, really dumb but i wish i had just stayed with you for that extra day because- because i don’t think i can go any longer without you now that i have you here, in front of me. could we- can we at least… keep in touch?” he seemed to speak without limitations, akin to a leaking clay pot. he was distressed, evidently. but you no longer saw his face and thought of guilt and love and yearning; you held no space for him.
you shook your head gently. “hajime, i don’t want you in my life anymore. you achieved your dreams, and i’m working on finding mine. that’s how it was meant to be.”
if not for the small lamp above the two of you, you would not have noticed the tears spilling onto his face. you bore no sympathy — with a goodbye and a small wave, you left him in the alley with a heavy heart and saline tears.
to witness him before you had awakened the truth riddled in your sinew and bloodstream: iwaizumi hajime was no longer a necessity. a truth that had cowered away beneath guilt and fragility and shame had uncovered itself, and for once, you breathed a full breath.
oikawa seemed so vibrant on the other side of your screen, the argentinian sun kissing his skin almost perfectly. “…i miss you lots!! i’ll visit soon, maybe, and we can catch up and maybe go get coffee and then debrief and then…” he trailed off with an aloof grin, his words spilling out from your phone and reverberating around the living room. tsukishima stood in the kitchen, the sound of his deliberate chopping and washing contesting oikawa’s voice. “but anyways, i’ll see you soon! byebye!!”
you waved goodbye and hung up, leaving only the noise of your roommate’s cooking. a loud groan left his lips in the midst of his mixing, followed by a complaint about how irritable your friend’s voice was. you could only laugh.
gentle strings of moonlight spilled into the apartment through the kitchen window, the songs of the evening falling upon both of you and your shared comfort. tomorrow was your off day, granting you both an opportunity for an actual meal. tsukishima (begrudgingly) agreed to make your favorite dish, with the request that you’d make his favorite dessert next week.
“thank you for the meal,” you whispered. tonight would consist of good food and a relaxing night, and tomorrow would entail a day of rest and a weekly reset, along with another call with oikawa. with marred hands and a porcelain heart, you had managed at last to craft a solid life — steady health, steady friends, and a steady routine.
you would no longer be second best to anything, and that was sufficient enough.
#haikyuu#haikyuu fics#haikyuu oikawa#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu iwaizumi#iwaizumi angst#iwaizumi x reader#tsukishima x reader#haikyuu tsukishima#tsukishima smut#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima angst#iwaizumi smut#iwaizumi fluff#hq oikawa#oikawa tooru#tsukishima hcs#tsukishima haikyuu#tsukishima kei#hq tsukishima#iwaizumi x y/n#iwaizumi x you#hq iwaizumi#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi headcanons
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guys i just watched episode 5 of the pjo show (ik i'm late, my brother and i watch it together and we've both been busy)
and i think it's my favorite episode so far so here's an incomplete list of things i loved about it
the percabeth hug. obviously. and grover just awkwardly breaking the silence when it went on a LIIITTLE too long? an icon fr. 🫡
the FBI looking for them. i was kinda worried they weren't gonna include that part cuz it wasn't super plot relevant but i'm so glad they did. hoping percy calls out gabe on live tv like he did in the books. that was funny as hell.
the way they just...walked down the highway? how long had they been walking when ares showed up? were they just gonna walk all the way from st. louis to LA? i have so many questions 🤨🤨
along that same vein, they way they hid behind the barrier and popped their heads up to talk to ares? peak comedy. i mean, stranger danger who? never heard of it.
skipping way ahead. annabeth geeking out at the amusement park cuz of the architecture and technology was so in character. that's my girl. 🥲🥹🙏
hephaestus's life story being told on the walls in lights was so fucking pretty. and how percy knew it all from the stories his mom told him?? 💔 breaking my heart as he spoke.
"maybe she was preparing you. so when you got to us, you'd be different than this." i'm so happy that annabeth is also a member of the stan sally jackson club. i welcome her with open arms 🫶
percy once again sacrificing himself for his friends. the way they're building up his fatal flaw is so effortless and wonderful. and then how hephaestus tries to manipulate annabeth into leaving him there by promising her glory. i really love the writers' commitment to fatal flaws as a motif in the story.
just...annabeth trying to save percy in general. got me crying fr. 😭😩 they're soulmates your honor.
"he isn't that way. he's better than that." need i say more? 🥲
also grover girlbossing ares that whole time, getting info out of him? what an icon. 💀 i feel like grover is slept on in this fandom and i won't stand for it anymore. and aryan is doing such a brilliant job. a hero among men. 🫡
also i was not expecting to actually see hephaestus but i kinda love how they're including more gods? idk i just think it's fun seeing the interactions and all their personalities.🙃
anyway, there's so much more i could write but that's what i could think of off the top of my head.
i can't way for next tuesday. i'm gonna be so insufferable after the lotus episode. if we get a subtle nico and bianca cameo i'm gonna lose it.
#pjo tv show#pjo tv spoilers#pjo tv adaptation#pjo disney+#pjo ep 5#percy jackson tv spoilers#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#annabeth chase#grover underwood#greek mythology#thoughts from the mountaintop
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listening to the amurta darshan’s faculty argue over budgets is positively mind-numbing, and alhaitham can feel his brain cells dying off with each agonizing minute that ticks by.
this is only his second meeting as the acting grand sage, but he’s already looking forward to retiring. he’s been mapping out his retirement plan for the last ten minutes, actually. he’ll move to liyue, build a house on a very, very high mountaintop, and spend his days reading from sunrise to sunset—
“acting grand sage, what are your thoughts on the matter?”
listening to petty squabbles between old men in his capacity as the scribe is one thing, but having to direct the squabbles is wholly another.
he sits up, doing his best to shake the stupor from his mind before quickly glancing down at the notes his assistant places in front of him.
“naphis,” he says, genuinely surprised. “you intend to relinquish your position as sage?”
alhaitham isn’t truly listening when amurta’s (now former) sage produces an explanation. the next step is to find a solution. find a new sage. naphis’ long-winded soliloquy about ‘ushering in the new generation’ and ‘starting anew’ were simply redundant.
he tunes back into the conversation when naphis says, “i’d like to recommend a former student of mine. tighnari.”
alhaitham knows tighnari. would even go as far as to say he likes him. “of the avidya forest watchers, yes,” he murmurs. “i will reach out.”
he glances over at you when you shift in your seat, glancing at him with that look in your eyes. the one that tells him you have something you want to say.
but then one of the faculty members begins a highly dramaticized account of an lab incident in pardis dhyai that “demands” the proper allocation of funds, and he sighs, realizing this will have to be addressed another time.
_____
the next few days are busy, as the shift of power within the akademiya demands near the entirety of his attention. that, combined with his reluctance to bring work home, lead him to follow up with you a week after the amurta faculty meeting.
“what were you going to tell me?”
“hm?” you roll onto your side to face him, eyes barely open, considering it’s two in the morning. “when?”
he feels bad for waking you, knowing you’re exhausted from a twelve hour shift at the bimarstan. but he’d been penning his letter to tighnari earlier, and couldn’t stop pondering what you’d wanted to tell him last week.
“at the meeting,” he clarifies. “you were giving me…a look.”
“i give you lots of looks,” you yawn, nudging your face further into your pillow. “you are quite handsome.”
“don’t be cute,” he mutters, hoping the darkness of the room hides his blush. “you were looking at me like you knew something i didn’t.”
you blink a few times as the memory comes back. “which time? i give you that look multiple times a day, darling.”
normally, he finds your sass to be quite a turn on. just not when it’s directed at him. “the first time.”
“when you were talking about research grants?”
“not that time,” he frowns. “but— what do you know about that?”
“nothing,” you say much too quickly, but then you lean over, cupping his chin and looking him in the eye. “but when someone so, so pretty and extremely smart submits a grant application…”
“i will set up a private channel just for your submissions,” he promises.
“i was actually talking about kaveh, but that is very much appreciated. we do need new stethoscopes.” you pat his cheek a little harder than necessary, smiling.
“wait, kaveh?” he asks. “really?”
“oh yes,” you nod. “he was talking about an affordable housing project the other night. if the akademiya could spare the funds, he could even move into one of said houses himself…”
“finally admitting you want him to leave?”
“haitham, he used that last of that face cream i bought in fontaine and keeps moving our furniture around. i don’t just want him to leave, i need him to leave. remember when he organized your bookshelves by colour?”
oh, he remembers, trust him. “i’ll have amani pull his application for review first thing tomorrow.”
“a most wise decision,” you hum, about to roll back around when he gently grips your arm.
“we’re not done. i was talking about when i mentioned reaching out to tighnari.”
“oh, that look,” you blink. “he won’t accept the position.”
his brows raise in surprise, because who in their right mind would deny the role of sage? “and you know this how?”
“because we’re friends,” you tell him matter-of-factly. “and i know he’s made a commitment to lead the forest watchers. he’s doing good work there, along withconducting his research. i doubt he’d want to be saddled with a desk job on top of that. let alone one with the akademiya.”
“okay,” he shrugs. if you say he doesn’t want the job, then he doesn’t want the job. there’s no need to delve further into the specifics. “you know the amurta faculty better than i do. who should i ask?”
this time you send him a flat look, pulling away from him and taking the duvet with you. “haitham, i’ve entertained your poor attempt at pillow talk thus far, but if you wish to continue discussing this so bad, why don’t you go find amani? i’m sure she’d love to spend the night with you.”
he rolls his eyes, trying and failing to reclaim the duvet. “jealousy is quite the unbecoming trait, you know.”
“go to sleep, acting grand sage.”
alhaitham shuts up, because, well, you’d titled him. that was a warning sign in itself that he’d deprived you of your sleep for long enough. but you don’t protest as he pulls you close, pressing a kiss to the back of your head, still overthinking. his mind won’t rest until he finds a solution.
“stop overthinking it,” you mutter into your pillow. “you’ll figure something out. you always do.”
you’re right, he realizes. maybe the solution is right in front of him.
_____
alhaitham is halfway through reading kaveh’s application when he hears your muffled threats to his assistant right outside his door.
“move, amani. or i’ll make you!”
amani has a much better sense of self-preservation than he thought, because it’s not a second later that his office doors burst open, and you let yourself in.
“when i told you that you’d figure it out, i didn’t mean this!” you exclaim, waving his letter in his face.
he takes your hand, pressing his lips to the back of it in an attempt to placate you, murmuring, “you don’t want to be a sage?”
“of course i do,” you huff, snatching your hand back. “but— but i’m—”
“the logical choice,” he finishes for you, folding his hands atop his desk. “you obtained two degrees before 25, your thesis on elemental healing techniques is the gold standard, you’re the head of medical and you’re decently versed in botany.”
“botany?” you repeat incredulously. “so maybe the neighbors are jealous of our garden and tighnari taught me how to use naku weed to make special brownies that one time–”
“they were very good brownies,” he assures you. “and you’re still an excellent candidate.”
you go off again, listing off all the reasons why it shouldn’t be you, but all that alhaitham sees is someone who is brave enough to hold their own in council meetings and even yell at the acting grand sage. you’re perfect.
even you sigh unnecessarily loud, pinching the bridge of your nose. “you’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“i don’t intend to, no.”
you’re silent for a long minute, clenching your jaw so hard that alhaitham worries for your teeth.
“i want to make my own hours,” you tell him firmly. “i’m not going to be tied to a desk all day.”
that was something he could certainly get on board with himself. “fine. anything else?”
“give me the day to think on it,” you shrug, moving to sit on the edge of his desk. alhaitham slides his chair back so your knees fit between his legs. “you really think i can do this?”
“the pros of you being amurta’s sage greatly outweigh the cons, so yes.”
you fix him with a long-suffering look. “what were the cons?”
alhaitham thought himself an intelligent man, but he very nearly opens his mouth to answer your question before realizing the answer will likely end with him sleeping on the couch tonight. he chooses to keep his mouth shut, earning himself a little kiss before you sign the contract on his desk.
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Little Liebe's Family II | Sydney Lohmann x Child!Reader
warnings: ~
word count: 1077
summary: you change Tante Syd's name
a/n: part of Sydney's Little Liebe, celebratory two fics in a day cause germany is going to the olympics 🥳
Tante Syd is brushing her teeth when you appear by the door and hover as you wait for her to finish.
‘Little Liebe?’ She questions worriedly as soon as she’s done.
It’s odd for you to be standing in her bedroom, you’re usually tucked into your own bed by now.
‘Can you read me a bedtime story?’ You ask.
Your Tante is confused but slowly says, ‘Okay…’
You haven’t had a bedtime story in a while, deciding it to be only for babies. No matter how much Momma and Tante Syd had tried to convince you otherwise, you were stubborn and adamant about your decision.
But you really really want one today because you think it will make the weird feeling in your tummy go away.
Tante Syd holds out her hand and you grip onto it tightly as she walks you back to your bedroom.
‘Which book would you like?’
You like Tante Syd’s voice. It calms you down and Momma told you that when you were very little, Tante used to sing you a lullaby when she rocked you to sleep.
You don’t need her to sing to you today, especially because Tante Laura from the Country Club says that Tante Syd can’t sing but you do need her to read you your favourite book so you point to it.
It’s not been read for a while so it’s been sitting on your bookshelf instead of your bedside table where it used to sit.
’Do you want me to sit in your bed beside you?’ She prompts gently after picking the book up and you nod.
You squeeze her hand tightly as she does so and Tante kisses the top of your head.
She opens the book and reads, ‘I love our time together as we start each happy day.’
‘I love our bathtime silliness. The way we splash and play.’
‘With my yellow duck!’
Tante Syd chuckles softly, ‘I love to lift you way up high so you feel really tall!’
You giggle, ‘I love it too. I like being taller than Tante Mala.’
Tante Mala is the tallest person you know and you feel like such a big girl when you can see the top of her head.
You have a lot of fun when Tante Syd puts you on her shoulders.
Your Tante turns the page, reading aloud, ‘We’ll climb the highest mountaintops. Hold tight and you won’t fall.’
In your book, it shows a baby bear and a mummy bear. They climb mountains together and you want to do that too.
‘Tante am I big enough to go climb mountains with you and Momma yet?’
She’s been promising that you could since you first started reading this book together and because you haven’t read it for a while, you thought that maybe you’ve grown big enough to go.
Your Tante laughs, ‘Soon Little Liebe. We can go hiking with your Momma real soon okay? You’ve just got to grow a bit bigger so make sure to eat all your veggies.’
‘Okay.’ You nod furiously.
Tante Syd grins. You ask every time the storybook is read to you so she’s not surprised you’ve asked again.
‘You’ll hold my hand tight when we go right?’ You whisper as an afterthought.
When you were littler, you didn’t think about that and now you worry a bit about it. Falling off a mountain sounds like it will give you an ouchie.
Like the one you have on your knee from tripping because you ran too fast on the pitch.
‘Of course Little Liebe. Your Momma will hold one hand and I will hold your other hand so you will be safe.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
Tante gives you a pinky promise so you know she’s being serious.
‘I’ll get bigger soon. Then we can go.’ You decide, making Tante Syd chuckle.
Unbeknown to you, your Momma and her already have a hiking trip planned for you. You’ve been big enough for a while.
Tante’s voice is very soft and very affectionate when she reads, ‘I love to share the magic of the shining skies above and think of all the different ways that we can show our love.’
‘Like when we’re touching noses.’
Your Tante Syd bumps her nose off yours and you dissolve into a fit of giggles, ‘You’re silly Tante.’
‘Playing chase or seeing friends. Our love is always with us and it never, ever ends. So snuggle safely in my arms, our day is nearly done.’
Tante doesn’t even have to ask or hold her arms out because you cuddle right up to her.
She hugs you tightly, murmuring the last line of the book, ‘I love you to the moon and stars, my precious little one.’
‘I love you too. To the moon and stars.’
‘Which is a lot because they are very far away.’ You add insistently.
‘I know Little Liebe. I love you lots too.’
You wiggle under your blanket.
‘Tante?’
‘What is it?’
‘Can I call you Mama?’
Your Tante goes very still and quiet next to you. Her breathing sounds funny for a moment and she hugs you even more tightly.
‘If you want to, Little Liebe.’
You relax as the weird feeling in your tummy disappears.
‘That’s good because I want to. My teacher at school says that I have two mummies because you and Momma are getting married. So you can’t be Tante anymore.’
‘I’d love to be your Mama.’
You grin, kissing her cheek and your Mama’s eyes are very shiny when she kisses your cheek back.
‘Have sweet dreams meine Little Liebe.’
She tucks you into your fluffy blanket properly and checks under your bed to make sure there aren’t any monsters hiding there.
‘No monsters?’
‘No monsters.’ She confirms.
Yawning, you mumble, ‘Goodnight Mama Syd.’
‘Goodnight Little Liebe.’
She’s left your night light on so you aren’t afraid when she leaves your bedroom.
You’re already falling asleep so you don’t know that she bursts into tears as soon as she’s outside.
You don’t know that Momma comes out from finishing up the dishes in the kitchen to find her crying.
You don’t know that she anxiously asks your Mama Syd what is wrong, only for her to shakily say, ‘Nothing’s wrong. Everything is perfect because Little Liebe just called me Mama.’
You don’t know any of that but you do know that you are so very very loved. By both your Momma and Mama.
German Translations:
meine Little Liebe - my little love
tante - aunty
#fun fact the book that is read to little liebe is actually real#it's called i love you to the moon and back#and i have it memorised courtesy of my job 😅#sydney lohmann#sydney lohmann x reader#sydney lohmann imagine#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community#woso fanfics#katelynnwrites#fcb frauen#gerwnt#dfb frauen
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¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
content: stepcest, stepbrother!regulus, fem!reader, masturbation (f), voyeurism
¡ marauders masterlist !
Your legs quivered as your fingers circled your clit, occasionally sliding them downwards to swirl them around the hole that brimmed with your essence. You couldn’t bring yourself to push them inside, pulling your digits away as soon as they pressed against the threshold. You continued to clench around nothing, a punishment for your sinful thoughts of being filled with your brother's thick cock.
Regulus was just so pretty. His soft, dark curls and milky complexion littered in sparse, faint freckles. His slender fingers and matching frame, hollowed collarbones and delicately sculpted features.
You wondered how he’d feel if he knew you kept your pussy intact for him to break the tissue of your purity. Your mind was far from innocent, but he would never know that. You whimpered and writhed over the mere thought of him. You were on the verge of coming instantly whenever you thought of the ghost of his touch on your shoulder or the warmth of his proximity as he brushed past you, not thinking twice about you.
Now you had the obscured memory of his bare frame dripping in steaming water and it only added to the never-ending feeling of longing. His pale skin was tinged a faint pink but his cheeks were perfectly flushed a bright rose. Minuscule puddles flooded the dips of his clavicles, a steady stream cascading down the edges and down his chest, following the trails of the crevices etched in his flesh. His stomach retracted as he raised his arms to run it through his flat curls, bringing forth a flicker of his ribs as he brought them down again, touching over the expanse of his middle. His broad shoulders curved like soft mountaintops, looking incredibly enticing.
You pushed your finger against your opening again, collecting slick wetness that poured out of you as you used it to speed up the assault on your swollen clit. The additional lubrication helped the pads of your fingers glide over the hot and throbbing bud. You stuffed the trembling fingers of your free hand into your mouth in a feeble attempt to keep your whimpers at bay but the vocal desperation vibrated through the digits and filled the silence in your bedroom.
His sides slimmed down, forming his slender waist. A valley separated the halves of his chest, running from beneath his chest and ending inches above his navel that was surrounded by a thin layer of soft stomach. A trail of dark hair replaced the long, shallow dip, leading down to a curly tuft of pubic hair. His cock laid centered between the bed of curls, pink dick contrasting the pitch black patch at the base. His balls hung lazily and his length was slightly stiff, undoubtedly the beginning of an erection.
Your eyes ran up the shaft and over the head that dripped clear water that cascaded down his mesmerizing frame. You felt a wave of dizzying arousal when his hand ran over his sensitive prick, fingers curling around the girth before letting it go, leaving it to fall between his legs again.
You applied almost painful pressure as you tried to push yourself over the edge, mouth beginning to water around your fingers as you breathed heavily and shut your eyes as if the memory of your stepbrother's hardening cock would somehow become clearer.
You yearned to see every line, every vein as his dick filled with blood, turning a scorching red as it jumped and throbbed in excitement. You ached to see the ethereal sight of your aroused brother humping away, skin turning a darker hue of pink as it grew hot to the touch. You wanted to see the darkening of his cloudy gray eyes as his hazy, lust-filled brain thought of nothing but release.
You spread your legs wider, eager to feel yourself shake and drip your release as you thought of Regulus spilling his own, creamy, milky come in long spurts. Your teeth clenched down on the flesh of your fingers, heavy puffs coming out of your nose as you tried to fill in the blanks of what you were denied of witnessing.
Resentment filled your heart when somebody called your name, annoyance clear in their tone. You were forced to tear your eyes from your beautiful brother after another harsh call, body heated in arousal and anger as you turned away from watching Regulus’ wandering hands.
You came with a frustrated whine, rubbing furiously as you suckled on your fingers, riding out the orgasm you had been so desperate for. Your walls pulsed, craving the feeling of your brother pushing inside you.
#tw stepcest#regulus (belle’s version)#stepbrother!regulus#stepbrother!regulus black#stalker!reader#dark!reader kinda?#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#regulus black x reader smut#regulus black smut#regulus black imagine#regulus black blurb#regulus black fanfic#marauders era#yandere harry potter#marauders era smut#marauders regulus#harry potter marauders#hp marauders#marauders smut#marauders x reader#marauders#regulus black
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having lots of thoughts about this leaked early version of elden ring's map
haligree is south of liurnia, connected roughly to the same spot as where Lakeside Crystal Cave (which leads to Latenna) is in the final game
visible cave system below Altus that peeks out of the cliffside (probably deeproot depths?)
the big crater bay thing is no longer oddly raised up from the rest of sea level
only two(?) Divine Towers are visible, one by Leyndell and the one in Limgrave (and the latter is hard to tell if it's actually even supposed to be that at all)
giant's forge isn't visible but there's another weird tower marked in the mountaintops
no farum azula
altus plateau has a much subtler height gradation from liurnia
wailing dunes might have a crater in it? (iirc there's an unused crater map piece still ingame for that map so this idea made it really far into development)
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happy birthday!! i would love to read something about zagreus!!!
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Thanatos has seen the courtyard maintained by Queen Persephone, is well aware of the poms that liter the realm thanks to her influence, but this is something different.
"Than?" Zagreus asks nervously.
Even in Elysium the trees and fields are washed out, half there and half not, ethereal in the way of loss rather than beauty.
This is lush.
There are fields of strange fruits and vegetables growing, acres of rolling hills and forests, all of if glittering as brightly as the gemstones that litter the realm. There are people down there, working and planting, and others talking and laughing, buildings carved from stone and built from mudbricks and grown from twisting oaks.
They've stepped out onto a balcony, high enough to see for miles, and nowhere in the underworld is there this much space. It's all rooms and sections, constantly shifting, nothing allowed to just be be. Except here.
"Say something," Zagreus says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You're making me nervous."
"Where are we?" he asks. They're still in the underworld, but in none of the three levels or on the river, and that's all that should be, all that should exist. There is nothing else.
Zagreus swallows. "Um, well, it doesn't have a name exactly. Or it does, I guess. Everyone keeps calling it the Prince's Court, even though I think that's stupid."
The Prince's Court. He and Megaera had heard whispers of that. They thought it referred to Zagreus, and his growing power, and the people he kept close. Him, and Meg, and Dusa, except it turns out it had nothing to do with them at all.
"Have you lost your mind?" he demands, finally tearing his eyes away to glare at Zagreus. "Doing something like this in Hades's realm - he's going to kill you and make it stick-"
"This isn't my father's realm," he interrupts and Thanatos sputters. "No, I'm serious. Stop freaking out and focus."
"I'm not freaking out," he retorts but he grudgingly listens, if only so he can then continue yelling without interruption.
Hades's power is not limitless, as Zagreus has demonstrated so many times, but it is ever present, settling like a cloak over his domain and keeping it tightly within his grasp, not letting anything escape his attention or control.
Thanatos frowns then stretches his senses further.
It's only Zagreus.
The power he'd felt from his friend and brother and the person he loved most, something that he'd once had to press close and breathe in to feel and then later had ballooned to a comfortable presence that hung around Zagreus's shoulders.
They're standing so close now that he hadn't even thought it was strange that his power was all around them. But it's not because of that. It's because in this place, of open spaces and flourishing fruits and smiling people, it's Zagreus who holds it steady.
Not Hades.
"Why would you do this," he whispers, "why wouldn't you just challenge him for the throne if that's what you wanted?"
This is so much worse. An inevitable civil war, father against son, in a way so much bigger than their fights on the surface.
He makes a face. "Why would I want that? The underworld is depressing. And dealing with all those spirits is a lot of work. This is better. Besides, then I'd just inherit his curse, and then I'd have to work my way around it all over again. No thanks."
"What are you talking about?" he demands. "You're cursed too."
Zagreus grins, bright and happy and Thanatos can't return it because this is insane and he's insane and it's all going to end in misery. "Race you to the mountaintop."
Before Thanatos can say how ridiculous that is, a chaos rift appears behind Zagreus and he steps back and slips inside it, the rift closing before Thanatos can follow him.
Chaos is involved in this too? His grandparent, who has never take an interest in the affairs of the underworld and who has enough power to tip the scales in any direction they choose.
This just gets worse and worse.
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