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cherrybomb5000 · 1 day ago

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Same Poison in a Different Vein.

ꕥ Being of the earliest demons that was transformed, you sure as hell weren't used to this bright city landscape you suddenly awoke in. But you're a quick to realize the creatures that roam this place that seem to suffer from similar problems of your own world. Will you remedy them as you're trying for those in your own world?

wc: 3.1k

extra: i'm not too familiar with her character so im sorry if this is ooc! + kinda rushed, my badddd

tamayo!fem! reader x kpdh | should i do a pt 2?

MASTERLIST | Akaza ver.

Your presence was as soft as a hum lost in a loud concert, barely noticed, but still real.

On the same wide rooftop, was a battle you weren’t supposed to see, or, that’s what you believed. But your sudden appearance on that rooftop so close to the eight who were in the middle of battling made you second guess the initial thought.

Nonetheless, you lowered your body to conceal most of yourself behind the nearby large ventilator, it fanned your face as you gazed carefully at the fight.

Three girls in matching attire with weapons that glowed a bright white with colors of pink and blue mixing in, it glowed against the night sky. One had a long purple braid with a sword that swung diligently, another with buns that threw a weapon that looked like shurikens from a distance, and another girl with bright pink hair that wielded a weapon that resembled a polearm.

While the five boys held less human appearances, you could barely observe that the ends of their hands were a dark and unnatural purple, patterns of a deep hue of purple patterns crawling up their necks. Their eyes glowed a bright amber that when they moved, it’d leave streaks in the air where they moved.

You stare at them, the girls are sure to be human. Despite their unnatural hair colors that you weren’t used to, you tallied the marks and it’s evident that between the eight of them, the girls were much more human-like.

Now with the men, they were tall and too quick for those untrained, not only that but they weren’t even attacking with weapons- just their claws.

You observe a bit more and it takes you a moment, your sharp nails digging into the metal as you debated whether it was worth it to stop the fight.

But then you remember your time with Tanjiro and the others, how much he and Nzeuko worked to collect the blood of those of high ranking demons.

Then that makes you think of the pitiful creatures in this world: were these men being kept in the same cage of sorrow and desperation as you were once in?

Your wide eyes narrow softly at the thought, the thought of it all broke that part in your soul that still felt human empathy.

Then one of the girls fell, the one with the long hair, landing on her side with a sickening thud, but you catch sight of a deep gash from the claws of one of the attackers, the one with a teal head of hair.

Then another one screams a threat, the one with bright hair tied up in two ponytails, a sharp swing to the being that harmed the one with braided hair. The other one with black hair pulls the girl back to save her from another attack.

“Now you’ve done it!”

“Rumi! Are you alright?!”

While on the battlefield, Rumi, who had fallen, got up, gritting her teeth as she swung her sword with her other hand somehow still skillfully, aiming for the neck of Baby, who had deceived her into falling in the first place.

Zoey purses her lips but falls back, letting Rumi move freely as she also continues to battle the Saja boys.

All while Mira and Zoey kept on wielding attacks, sending out swings and spikes like their lives depended on it, sweat building up on their brow as the fight spurs on.

“You’re more than your patterns.. More than a demon.”

A whisper sounds through, you can’t tell who said it, but it felt like a signal for you to interfere. The injured girl, her eyes flickered with sympathy in that moment, and so did the man with jet black hair, the two swinging at each other despite this strange tension between.

And the words themselves make you pause, you blink.

These girls must be defending something the same way the Demon Slayer corps were defending humanity by slaying demons.

So demons exist here as well? And more than that, there is sympathy? At the very least some sort of pity towards them.

You decide to pull up your sleeve,

“Scent of Illusory Blood, Visual Dream”

Then all of the sudden, a harp plays a single note, then for all eight of those fighting, their senses get overloaded with bright floral visuals.

Hemp leaf backgrounds of purples and blues that are half covered by bright colored flowers that continued to bloom across the stream, roses and such ignited in thin air. Sparkles that shined too bright made some wince from the sudden gas.

Rumi grips her shoulder and sword tighter, tense and swinging at the patterns to try and release herself from this bubble of florals.

Mira does the same, but when she cuts at the patterns, they only bleed downwards, and smoke that looks like it burned from old scrolls of a forgotten time erupts from her swing, creating more flowers to confuse her..

Zoey throws more of her shin-kal, but it gets lost after flying through a flower, the air ripples but doesn’t grow any less dense, she panics and tries to run and feel the blade run across the sensation. She’s horrified when the sweet aroma grows stronger.

Jinu gasps, looking behind him for his crew, only to lose them in this amalgamation of a floating garden. The patterns look traditional despite being surreal that he was trapped in this little cube of distraction.

Mystery’s jaw drops at the sudden intrusion, instinctively sniffing at the flowers, but only an empty sweet scent follows through, he wanders through the strings of this strange mirage.

Romance claws at one of the flowers almost reverently, if this was an illusion, it was a beautiful one. Being lost in the aesthetics, he follows this stream of moving objects, he only stops when he realizes just how potent these images are.

Abby is not doing all that much better, mindlessly thrashing at the flowing glitter, the shimmer lands on his skin and it irritates him further, trying to find a way out of this overwhelmingly bright fog or images.

Baby grunted, trying to run away and create gashes at this wall of flowers and hemp leaves, only for it to mesh together even more, creating an even more distorting affect that spooked the teal haired demon.

You walked through your given powers easily, spotting the wounded girl, walking up from behind, but she senses you, swinging her sword instinctually at you. The blow lands and blood spurts out from the wound.

A blow in the side of your head that landed in an oddly familiar spot as the demon who claimed to be one of the Twelve Uppermoons, a part of yourself falls to the ground but you grimace.

The girl’s eyes widen at the sight of blood, and the sight of you yourself.

You were on the shorter side, with big lavender eyes that had a soft gradient into a pale color, hair that was neatly tied up before, a pin in your hair, adorning a kimono with a dark colors and flower patterns that gave away that it was you who incited this gassy mirage.

(Tamayo is literally 4 '11/150 canonically, so you’re short too…)

And despite the wound she gave you, you merely step one small step closer, like you were approaching some scared prey.

“Do not fret, I have no ill intention of hurting you more than you have already been hurt.” You say, checking in on the deep scratches of your arm that had rising wisps of smoke that looked nearly animated in the air.

Rumi’s breath gets caught in her throat at the sight of your self-inflicted injuries.

Your voice was so soft and wistful, your appearance and aura itself was so cloudy and hazy. Like you were smoke that would disperse when wind passes through.

And your eyes, blank but brimming with sophistication and worry, your hands slightly outstretched for her to take.

“You- your head..”

Being reminded, your hand reaches to the blow she had made into your visage, and the regeneration process starts, and you look back at her in the eye.

“I will be fine.” You curtly reply, not letting her truly feel like you fully addressed what she did to you.

Unfortunately, someone had managed to see through tiny gaps of the streams of plants and shimmer, and his claws sharpened to attack.

Noticing this before you do, due to your back being turned, the girl in braids whisks out her arm to pull you in haphazardly.

With your face facing her torso as her arm curls around you boldly and protectively as she swung her sword out, Abby’s hands bounce from the failed attack, causing him to have to jump over and once again, get lost in the running rivers of dreams.

You gasp, turning your head up to see the expression of the hot pink haired demon, his cat eyes widening when he catches sight of you.

“For such a soft looking lady, you sure are bold to show your face mid battle.” The woman huffs, loosening her grip on you, her eyes scaling across what she could register now that she had an extra body to protect.

(I headcanon that Rumi has a personality gap if you compare her personality when battling and normal.)

Abby crashes into Romance, which causes him to screech, causing everyone to wince from the horrid noise, which finally causes them all to disappear into a pink puff of smoke, teleported against their will back into the underworld.

Then the air grew too quiet, devoid of confused grunts and cries, a girl's voice cries out. “Rumi?! Mira?!”

Taking that as a sign that this battle could possibly be over, you stop your blood demon art, the flowers circling into a more organized and uniform flow that went in one direction, leading the two girls towards you and this ‘Rumi’.

Rumi! Is your arm alright?!” A deep voice rings, a soft smile crosses Rumi’s face at the sight of her girls again, safe and unharmed.

Sharp eyes grow sharper when the girl sees you, raising her weapon, your eyes are not normal for a demon so it’d be plausible you could be a threat too. Or an unruly force, especially if you were the one who made that illusion.

“Rumi, who is she..?” the girl with space buns asks, tilting her head to see you better. Her tone held less malice and more curiosity.

“I made the illusions with my blood demon art.” You clarify, shifting so you would be easier to see to both of them.

“That was you? Then that would mean…”

“Yes, I am a demon, but I am also a doctor.” You introduce, your hand resting on your chest, the girl with purple hair’s eyes widened, so did the one with buns.

“My name is Tamayo [Name].” You introduce yourself, trying to frame it so you wouldn’t be perceived as a threat because if they were trained to be demon slayers, they could very well attack you.

The girls pick up from your soft tone that you are not here to cause more trouble and their edges soften, mostly.

“I am so sorry to ask, but is it possible that I could reside in your abode? At this very moment I have no place to go and I cannot bear to survive in the sun.” You plead, tucking your hair that fell from your hairstyle earlier behind your ear. Rumi notices how you somehow recovered and got a new ear,,,

You stand off to the side when the girls regroup and discuss in silent whispers about what to do with you, you pay them their privacy. All you really need was somewhere to stay so your skin wouldn’t meet the sun, and that was all you’re hoping for.

Then they all turn back to you.

“Well then.. Tamayo… we think we can make room for one more, if you’re willing.”

A small smile lights up your face, it doesn’t reach your eyes, but it doesn’t have to honestly.

“Thank you in advance for your help.” You bow, the girl exchanges looks, some less trusting than others, but your misty way of talking somehow smoothes the tension over with an icy coat.

And with that, you’re carried to the Huntr/x headquarters, you’re surprised to see such a grand home so high in the sky with cushions that you knew that only the richest could afford in your time.

And within that time of commuting, you had learned the names of these ‘Demon Hunters’, tucking them into your head.

You stay in place, moving when Rumi flopped onto the couch, her injured arm nearly staining the grey white couch, you’re quick to stop her blood from making contact with the cushion.

“Here, I will tend to that. Do you have any aid I can use?” you ask the other two, Zoey nods and disappears, reappearing with a pep in her step as she comes back and hands you a box with a handle.

Your eyes are low and focused as you go through the materials, recognizing the materials by their distinctive smells.

Rolling up her sleeves, your hands softly dab at the wound, but something catches your eye in the midst of your healing.

Actually, a lot of things catch your eyes while you’re tending to Rumi.

First: the fact that Mira was glaring from the kitchen in the back, but you do not blame her, for she must feel apprehensive about letting a demon into her home, you let her stare. For she is only trying to guarantee the safety of her comrades.

Second: the tension in Rumi’s body when you appeared to tend to her, especially when you started rolling her sleeves up.

Third: purple lines that ran in zigzags on Rumi’s pale skin. They looked a lot like the patterns that were on the men they were fighting.

So these are the patterns they were talking about? You take note of it, but take no action to call it out verbally, for your patient’s strained expression told you enough.

From Mira’s expression, she cannot deny how quaint and soft you were, despite being a demon, you didn’t have any of that smugness. No malicious look in your eyes, you weren’t poisoning Rumi from what she picked up, you didn’t mutter anything strange other than medicinal products, no small talk, nothing.

Maybe you were… harmless.

You tied a bow with the bandaids around her wound, signifying that you were finished.

Rumi was staring at you the entire time you were working. You were just so gentle, treated her with professionalism while also being tender to her wound.

And when you finished, you were approached by Zoey who wore an eager smile.

Clearly your looks, voice, and actions had won her over already.

“Do you have anything you’d like to eat?” she asks.

You pursed your lips, “Is there a possibility where you could get some blood from consenting blood donors?”

Zoey’s eyes widened and you both just stared at each other, blank looks.

“Uhhh, I’ll make some calls!” She gives you a thumbs up, a signal you’re not all too familiar with, you tilt your head- Zoey mentally fawns over you even more.

In about an hour, while you were sitting on a sage green chair near the window off to the side, admiring the bright lights of the city, a cold blue instead of the warm yellow from the lanterns of Asakusa that you were used to.

And true to her word, Zoey comes back with two packs of blood that are sealed in bags you’d see in hospitals often, your eyes soften at the sight of her bright smile.

“Ah, thank you Zoey.” You take two bags from her and let her lead you into the kitchen where you’d store the second one while you drank the first.

Sitting on a stool in said kitchen, you poke a small hole into the bag and let the red liquid pour into a cup from which you drank from, then you also drank the second.

All the while Zoey sat next to you and watched, you were so ethical when it came into blood drinking and a doctor too! With how well you treated Rumi, it’s possible they could rely on you for injuries instead of professionals paid to not ask questions!

And when the sun rises, you’re escorted into a guest room of a size that you were shocked with. You thanked them over and over for giving up such a large bedroom with a personal bathroom.

A few days flew by and everyone had grown accustomed to your presence in the house.

Always tending to wounds, even if they claimed it was fine, you shushed them and continued to tend to them.

They taught you about demons of their world when you explained yours; their eyes softened slightly when you mentioned that you are trying to help make a drug that could rid someone of the curse of being a demon.

Rumi perked up at that especially.

You were growing used to your new and modern surroundings, accepting slowly that this could be your life for who knows how long.

You always asked questions on how to approach things, tilted your head whenever someone tried to explain slang terms, bobbed your head on beat to the soft songs that any of them would introduce you to.

And with that slow acceptance, you were slowly melting your way into this dynamic trio, becoming a caretaker of their wounds and living space. You didn’t have much to do with all your resources back home, so you’d have to just make the most of it here.

You’re always careful as to not touch anything, especially anything electronic. It’s endearing to see you inch away from remotes or place them across the couch so you don't scare yourself with the TV turning on suddenly.

Your presence was welcomed in the house of Huntr/x, Bobby liked your very calm and professional yet considerate demeanor.

You never really slept so you’d always let the girls’ head rest on your shoulder or your lap, doing Zoey’s hair to look like your’s, braiding Rumi’s hair, listening to Mira about her day despite having nothing to add.

But despite it all, you keep yourself small, you don’t ask for much outside of meals, you don’t pry about their lives, even though you wanted to- especially towards Rumi, but it seems like she’s not ready for that conversation yet.

You try not to make yourself an attachment to these girls, to not be a distraction because it seems like they’re already dealing enough with the Saja boys.

Hopefully you wouldn’t have to use your demon blood art again, it would only raise questions, create more chaos, and garner unwanted attention from their leader- who you learned was Gwi-Ma.

A familiar feeling of resentment bubbles in your stomach at the explanation.

I REWATCHED THIS SCENE AND SMILED,

AHHH SHE'S SO CUTEEEE

anyways, IM SORRY IF SHE'S OOC, I DID WHAT I COULDD....

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cherrybomb5000 · 2 days ago

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Ace finally shares a Bed with Yuu

And Deuce too 👀

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cherrybomb5000 · 2 days ago

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you have a miscarriage, but they still love you more than anything with rin, bachira & shidou

rin had always believed that control meant safety. if you worked hard enough, if you didn’t let yourself slip, then nothing could blindside you. but sitting in the harsh light of the hospital room, with your trembling hand limp in his, he realized how foolish that belief was.

you were pale, your lips dry from hours of crying and rin didn’t know how to make it stop. he wanted to… god, he fucking needed to, but there wasn’t a single thing his talent or discipline could do for you now.

“it just… happened,” the doctor said, carefully clinical. “nothing you did wrong. sometimes the body just—”

rin didn’t hear the rest. his jaw was locked so tightly it ached, his eyes fixed on you. the only sound he registered was the way you tried to stifle a sob and failed. by the time the doctor left, you were curled on your side, staring at the wall. rin stayed in the chair by your bed, gripping his knees like he was anchoring himself in place. he’d spent years bottling emotions, swallowing everything until it turned to fuel. but now the bottle was cracking, and he didn’t even know where to start.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered hoarsely.

his head snapped up. “what?”

“i’m sorry i—”

“stop.” rin’s voice was sharper than he meant, but he didn’t soften it. he couldn’t. “don’t you dare apologize for this.”

you looked at him then, really looked. his eyes were red and swollen, lashes clumped from tears. he felt his chest clench so hard it hurt.

“i should’ve been here,” rin muttered, lowering his gaze. “i should’ve made sure—”

“rin.” your voice cracked, but there was steel under it. “this isn’t your fault either.”

he didn’t answer, because some stubborn, ugly part of him refused to believe that. if he had been around more, if he hadn’t been so obsessed with training, maybe… maybe things would be different.

when they discharged you that evening, rin didn’t let go of your hand once. the car ride was silent except for the sound of your uneven breathing. he drove slower than usual. not because he had to, but because he was terrified of anything else going wrong.

at home rin made you tea even though he didn’t know if you wanted any. he sat beside you on the couch, close enough that your knees touched, but said nothing. words felt cheap.

it wasn’t until midnight, when you broke down again. your face buried in his hoodie, tears soaking the fabric and rin finally let himself fall apart too.

“i don’t know how to make this better,” he whispered, raw. his arms tightened around you, desperate, like he could hold you together even if he couldn’t hold himself. “i can’t fix it. i hate that i can’t fix it.”

you only clung tighter. and that night rin didn’t move an inch. he stayed awake long after you drifted off, jaw pressed to your hair, silent tears running down his face. it wasn’t about fixing it anymore. it was about not letting you carry the weight alone. and for once in his life, rin decided that was enough.

bachira was used to emotions running wild. that was how he’d always played football with pure feeling, following instinct, letting every beat of his heart guide his feet. but this wasn’t like scoring a goal or losing a match. this wasn’t something he could chase down and fix. the sonogram monitor was dark where there should’ve been movement. he’d imagined hearing that little heartbeat for weeks, had even joked about how fast it would be (“like a hummingbird!”), but now there was only silence.

you sat on the exam table in the paper gown, staring at your lap while the doctor spoke gently, explaining things bachira couldn’t even process. miscarriage. not your fault. happens more often than people think. the words blurred into a low drone. bachira blinked hard, like maybe if he cleared his eyes he’d see a different image. a different outcome. but when you sniffled softly, he snapped out of his daze and slid closer, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“hey,” he whispered. “i’m here. you’re not alone, okay?”

you didn’t look at him, just pressed your lips together and that broke something in bachira. he wasn’t afraid to cry, never had been, but this… this was different. this was watching the brightest part of his world dim and not knowing how to turn it back on.

“i wanted to meet them too,” he said softly, his voice shaking. “i was already thinking about teaching them football. about… if they’d laugh like you do.” his throat closed up. “i wanted that so bad.”

your breath hitched and finally you turned, burying your face in his chest. bachira hugged you close, pressing his cheek to the top of your head as his own tears slid down freely. he didn’t bother hiding them. let the nurses stare, he didn’t care.

when you got home later, everything felt off. too quiet. bachira kept moving around the apartment, trying to keep busy. making tea, fluffing pillows, fetching blankets. but nothing stopped the heaviness pressing on both of you. you tried to smile at him once, a weak little curve of your lips, but it hurt worse than seeing you cry.

that night you woke to soft sniffles. bachira was sitting up beside you, knees pulled to his chest, hoodie sleeves wet where he’d wiped his face.

“meguru,” you croaked.

he startled and gave a shaky laugh. “sorry. i didn’t wanna wake you.”

“you’re crying.”

“i know.” he wiped at his eyes, then climbed back under the blanket with you. “i just… i feel so sad. and i hate it.”

you curled against him automatically and he held you like you were made of glass. “does it make me selfish if i wanted them so bad?” he asked softly. “even though it happened so early?”

“no,” you whispered, heart clenching. “it doesn’t.”

bachira exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours. he kissed your temple, then your damp cheeks, not to start anything, but because he needed to. needed you to feel how much he loved you even when he had no words left.

the next few days bachira stuck close. he’d braid your hair while you sat on the couch, humming softly even when you didn’t respond. he cooked weird recipes that didn’t always make sense but were made with stubborn care for you, even when you had no appetite.

sometimes he’d cry suddenly, mid-sentence, and you’d both end up in a heap on the floor, holding each other until the tears ran out. but he never once let you face any of it alone.

“hey,” he said one afternoon as his thumb traced circles on your wrist. “we’re gonna get through this. i don’t know how, but we will. because i’m not going anywhere. ever.”

and for once, bachira, who usually spoke in whims and wild laughter, sounded deadly serious.

shidou ryusei didn’t do quiet. he was a hurricane in human form, laughing too loud, playing too rough, always filling space with motion and noise. but when the doctor said the words, the world went silent in a way that made his ears ring.

miscarriage.

he stared blankly, like he hadn’t heard right. you sat beside him on the edge of the hospital bed, fingers twisted tightly together, tears already spilling over.

“wait,” shidou said oddly calm. “so… that’s it? just like that?”

the doctor’s expression softened. “i’m so sorry. it’s no one’s fault. sometimes these things—”

but shidou wasn’t listening anymore. his gaze locked on you, on the way your shoulders shook as you tried not to sob and something inside him snapped. he stood abruptly, chair clattering back against the wall and walked out without a word. you barely had time to call his name before the door swung shut.

out in the corridor, shidou hit the wall hard enough to split the skin on his knuckles. he hit it again, just to feel something other than this twisting, unfamiliar ache in his chest. he was good at pain… the physical kind. you got hit, you hit back harder. that was life. but this? this he couldn’t touch, couldn’t fight, couldn’t fix.

when he finally came back, knuckles raw and bleeding, you were sitting on the bed staring at your lap. your eyes flicked to his hand immediately. “idiot,” you whispered. “why would you do that to yourself?”

“why would i—?!” shidou barked a laugh, but it cracked halfway through. he sat down hard beside you, still breathing hard from the burst of anger. “you’re laying here hurting and i can’t do jack shit. what the hell am i supposed to do? just sit there like nothing happened?”

you reached out, hesitant, and touched his injured hand. he froze. the sight of your trembling fingers against his bloody skin hit him harder than any fist ever could.

“i wanted that kid,” he muttered suddenly, voice low and ragged. “didn’t think i did at first. i thought… y’know, babies are messy, loud… but…” he swallowed hard, looking away. “but i really wanted them.”

tears burned his eyes before he could stop them. he tried to blink them back, but when you finally whispered, “me too,” it all came pouring out. shidou buried his face in your shoulder and sobbed. loud, ugly sobs that shook his whole body. he clung to you like you might disappear next, fists tightening in the fabric of your gown.

“i’m so fucking mad,” he gasped between breaths. “i don’t even know who to be mad at. i just—i can’t stand seeing you like this. i can’t—” his voice cracked completely. “i’d do anything to take it away from you.”

later, when they sent you home, shidou didn’t leave your side for a second. he made terrible meals because he refused to leave you alone long enough to get takeout. he swore at anyone who tried to come by unannounced, snarling that you “weren’t some goddamn charity case.”

at night, he stayed awake staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched. you woke more than once to find him already watching you, protective in a way that felt almost desperate. when you started crying in the dark, he pulled you against his chest immediately.

“we’re gonna be okay, y’know,” he muttered, rough but steady. “i don’t know how yet. but i’m not letting you go through this alone. not ever.”

it wasn’t soft. it was shidou. raw, fierce, messy. but his arms around you were solid and for all his chaos, he meant every word.

I hope that brings you a little comfort. sending you love and strength

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cherrybomb5000 · 2 days ago

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arranged marriage with sae

sae didn’t talk much. you’d learned that early. even before the marriage, before the contract was signed and the papers were filed, you’d known he was quiet. not cold, exactly, he appeared more withdrawn. like the whole world was a few inches too far from him, and he didn’t feel like reaching out. you got used to the silence in your shared apartment. the way he drifted through rooms like a ghost, soft-footed and barely there, never touching more than he had to. always showering with the door locked. always retreating to his bedroom the second he got back from training. always looking like he didn’t want to be here. a bit like the whole arrangement was a cracked window he was just waiting to crawl through and escape.

you weren’t sure if he hated it, but you were sure he didn’t want it.

the marriage had been a matter of convenience. two families, one arrangement, zero choices. he hadn’t objected when his parents told him. he hadn’t flinched when yours smiled politely and said you were a good match. and he hadn’t looked you in the eye once during the ceremony.

you told yourself that was fine. you weren’t here for love. still… it hurt sometimes. the distance. the uncertainty. the way he barely looked at you, even after all these months of living under the same roof. but you tried. you cooked when you could. gave him space and never pushed. never asked questions. you were polite, always. never nosy, never demanding. sometimes, if he was exhausted or distracted enough to forget himself, he’d sit down with you at the kitchen table and eat whatever you’d left for him. those nights were rare and strangely intimate.

tonight was one of them. sae was sitting at the table, damp-haired and slouched, chopsticks loose in his hand as he picked at the noodles you’d reheated. his sleeves were rolled up. his posture lax. he looked tired, like the day had dragged on too long and left him somewhere behind.

you didn’t ask. you never did. instead, you sat across from him, nursing a cup of tea between your palms. letting the warmth seep into your skin. letting the silence sit, gentle and unbroken. until, out of nowhere, his voice broke through it.

“i met a kid today. at the press thing.”

you blinked, startled. “oh?”

“yeah.” he paused, eyes still on his food. “he asked if i ever scored a goal by accident.”

a laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it. soft, real, bubbling up like water breaking the surface. sae’s eyes flicked up to you. you bit down on your bottom lip and covered your mouth with one hand. “sorry, i’m not laughing at you. just—he really asked you that?”

he didn’t look offended. if anything, he almost looked amused. one brow lifted, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “dead serious. said he wanted to make sure pros messed up sometimes too.”

you snorted again quietly, but this time you didn’t fight it. the image was too absurd and funny. sae just watched you. not like you were a nuisance. not like you were glass he had to tiptoe around. his eyes were calm.

and then, like it was nothing, like it wasn’t the first real thing he’d ever said to you that hadn’t been born from obligation, he murmured, “i think the best part of my day is hearing you laugh.”

the silence that followed was instant. your cup paused halfway to your lips. your heart stuttered. you blinked, once, twice, unsure if you’d misheard him, unsure if this was another one of your quiet, impossible daydreams.

“what?”

he didn’t flinch, but didn’t repeat it either as he looked at you. something in his eyes had softened. like the frost had melted at the edges and left something warmer underneath.

“it’s quiet here,” he said simply. “sometimes i forget i’m not alone. but then you laugh.”

you couldn’t find your voice, because it wasn’t just what he said. it was that he said it. sae itoshi, who never offered more than silence or a flat-eyed stare. sae, who barely looked at you during the wedding, who slept in a separate room, who once answered your question about how his day was with a single shrug and left it at that. and now he was saying this, like it had been sitting in his chest for months and tonight it had finally cracked loose.

you set your cup down slowly. “i didn’t know you noticed.”

“i notice everything,” he said quietly. “i just don’t say much.”

“why now?”

his gaze dropped for a second. that quiet hesitation again, the one that always came before the rare, precious truth “because maybe i wanted you to know i don’t hate this.” you stared and he clarified, “this marriage. i didn’t ask for it. but i don’t mind it either. you don’t talk too much. you don’t expect me to be… anything else. and sometimes when it’s quiet, and i hear you laugh, i think—”

he didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. you felt it in the stillness. in the way his voice dipped on think, like the words that came next were too vulnerable to survive the air between you. your chest was tight and warm. you’d never imagined this with him. not softness. not affection. not this. he didn’t ask you to respond. he returned to his noodles as if he hadn’t just peeled something raw and aching out of his ribs and handed it to you in the middle of dinner.

you didn’t look away from him. when he glanced up again cautious and saw the smile still playing on your lips, he looked relieved. maybe even content.

later that night, when you passed each other in the hallway on your way to bed, he didn’t brush past you like usual. he paused and looked at you. “sleep well.”

#sae itoshi #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #sae x you #sae x reader #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk

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cherrybomb5000 · 2 days ago

Text

arranged marriage with rin

your silence was the first thing that told him something was wrong. it wasn’t like you were loud to begin with. you never had been. even after months of marriage, your presence had always arrived quietly, slipping through the front door with a soft “i’m back”, or an awkward smile that never quite reached your eyes. sometimes it was just a glance, polite and restrained. but always, always, there was something.

tonight, there was nothing. no greeting. no glance. not even the rustle of your coat as you came in. just the soft scrape of your shoes being slipped off and the muffled sound of your footsteps disappearing into the kitchen like you were a ghost.

rin looked up from the couch, frowning. this marriage had never been passionate. it hadn’t been built on affection or desire or dreams of forever. it had been arranged. neat, clinical, sealed in paper and tradition. a merger between two families who saw love as inefficient and loyalty as transactional. still, despite the cold foundation, it had never been cruel. never harsh. it was distant, careful. a quiet agreement between two strangers trying not to bruise each other more than necessary.

but now the quiet felt different. he heard it in the way you stood at the counter, hands braced on either side like you were trying to keep yourself upright. in the way your shoulders were pulled tight, jaw clenched like you were holding something in. you didn’t boil tea like you usually did. didn’t change out of your coat. you just stood there, frozen. and something clawed at his chest.

“did something happen?”

your head turned slightly, slow and startled, like you’d forgotten he was even there. you blinked. then gave a small, sharp nod. “yeah.”

rin stood slowly. his muscles tensed without him realizing it. he didn’t approach. he only watched you from the threshold of the living room. eyes scanning your posture, your trembling fingers, the brittle way you swallowed like you were choking on whatever came next.

“i was followed home,” you said.

his breath stopped. the world tilted slightly on its axis. you kept going, your tone too steady. too measured. that same quietness you always used, except now it sounded like a mask trying to hold back everything else.

“he grabbed me. said something disgusting. tried to corner me near the alley by the train station.” you paused when your breath hitched, but forced yourself to finish. “i got away before it got worse.”

silence. you didn’t look at him. didn’t reach for comfort. you only stood there, staring down at the counter like it could anchor you, like if you let go you’d fall apart.

“i don’t want to talk about it,” you said after a moment. “i just… i need a shower.”

then you turned, finally facing him and you saw him. rin was deathly still. his hands were curled into fists at his sides, trembling with restraint. his jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it hurt. and his eyes… god, his eyes had darkened into something almost unrecognizable. you’d never seen that look on him before.

“rin—”

“who was it?” he asked, and his voice didn’t sound like his. it was quiet, cracked, barely human.

you flinched. not from fear, but from the sharp edge of something deeper. the fury trembling in every syllable.

“i don’t know.”

his nostrils flared. “did you see his face?”

“it was dark,” you said. “i—i couldn’t—”

“did he follow you here?”

you shook your head quickly. “no. i lost him. i made sure.”

he was already moving toward the door.

you took a step forward. “where are you going?”

his hand gripped the knob. his head was bowed, shoulders tight with rage. “out.”

“rin.” your voice cracked.

he didn’t look at you. he stood there so tense it looked like he might explode, before he finally spoke again. his voice was rough, broken and quiet. “i would’ve burned the whole world for you.”

he turned halfway and his gaze met yours. and in that moment, you saw it all. the fury. the fear. the terrible, overwhelming need to protect you, like something inside him had finally snapped and all that cool, distant detachment had shattered into sharp, jagged pieces. “you just had to ask.”

the room stilled. you opened your mouth, but the words caught in your throat. rin looked at you, eyes burning. he took a slow step forward and this time when he spoke, his voice trembled with something raw.

“i wouldn’t have let you walk alone,” he said. “i wouldn’t have let you leave the house. i wouldn’t have let this happen to you.”

you stared at him, stunned. “you never said you cared.”

“i didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“why not?”

“because this marriage wasn’t your choice. and i’m not someone who’s easy to love.”

a lump formed in your throat, and it wasn’t fear, not even anger. it was something older. something hollow and aching, a grief you hadn’t known you were carrying until now.

“i didn’t need love,” you whispered. “i just needed not to feel alone.”

rin blinked slow and stunned, like you’d hit him. he stepped forward. “you’re not alone.”

“then why do we always feel like strangers?”

“because i was scared i’d ruin it if i got close.”

you let out a shaky breath. one hand lifted instinctively to your chest, as if to keep yourself steady. “i don’t want to talk about him anymore,” you said softly.

rin nodded.

“i want to take a shower.”

“okay.”

you turned, but didn’t walk away. something held you in place. something heavier than habit. you looked back and he was still standing there, still trembling with the weight of everything he hadn’t said. so you walked toward him, one step after another. he didn’t move. you reached for him with a shaking hand and gently laced your fingers with his. he didn’t pull away.

“i don’t need the whole world burned,” you whispered. “i just need you. standing here. not walking away.”

rin closed his eyes and for the first time since the day this strange marriage began, he didn’t let go. his fingers tightened around yours firm, showing that he’s there and it was enough.

#rin itoshi #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x reader #rin x you #rin x reader #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you

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cherrybomb5000 · 2 days ago

Text

MC: Mammon.

Mammon: Y-Yeah? You need something?

MC: You've been ignoring me lately, and you rarely come home.

Mammon: ...

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* You can be honest with me.

Mammon: ...

MC: ...

MC: If you can't, then I'll do it for you.

MC: *takes off their wedding ring*

Mammon: !!!

Mammon: Wh-What are you doing?!

MC: There's something bothering you and I know it's me.

Mammon: It's not—

MC: You can’t stand how age is catching up with me—something I can no longer hide with makeup.

MC: And I’m not saying this because I think you’re shallow—Mammon, I know you’re scared. Scared that someday I might be gone. Scared that after all these years, I’m still just a human.

MC: And if ending this marriage will spare you from sorrow and heartache, I will gladly do it. After all, I have no regrets about marrying you and spending half of my life with you.

Mammon: You don't understand! This is not what I—

Mammon: ...

Mammon: I’m disappointed in myself because I can’t do anything. I can’t even help you with something as simple as this!

MC: ...

MC: *kindly smiles* You silly man. *puts on their wedding ring again* *then slowly approaches him*

Mammon: *gives them a gentle hug*

MC: This is the nature of human life. For many, dying of old age is considered a triumph.

Mammon: ...

MC: But my offer still stands—you can leave for your own sake, and I won’t hold it against you.

Mammon: No, I'm sorry. You're still my human even when you're old and wrinkly.

MC: *smiles* Well, you have to endure me then.

Mammon: *hugs them tighter*

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me random

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cherrybomb5000 · 2 days ago

Text

Ruggie: Leona, aren't you going to do something?

Leona: About what?

Ruggie: Your fiance is being friendly with Malleus. Overly friendly.

Leona: So? We're not in love.

Ruggie: ...

Malleus: You're supposed to be with Kingscholar.

MC: He'll just get annoyed, and I don't want that. As you already know, I'm quite considerate.

Malleus: *chuckles* If that's what you believe.

MC: Oh? *smiles alluringly* Are you calling me a liar?

Malleus: No. Hmm... Maybe you are.

MC: You're hurting my feelings.

Malleus: You don't look hurt at all—A liar indeed.

MC: *sigh* Is that how you treat a new-found friend?

Malleus: *smiles* My apologies.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst malleus #twst ruggie

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cherrybomb5000 · 2 days ago

Text

Ace: Are you a pervert?

MC: ...

Ace: ...

MC: ...

MC: Does being mentally one count?

Epel: Bro—

MC: What? I have fantasies sometimes.

Jack: You don't really have to share that.

Sebek: DISGUSTING!

MC: Yeah, sure. As if you won't be doing it in the future.

Epel and Sebek: AHHH!!! NO!

Jack: ...Now I'm traumatized.

Ace: *cackles*

Crowley: You shouldn't be discussing that with your classmates.

MC: Oh, yeah? Then why's there a seduction book hidden in the library?

Crowley: ...

Crowley: There's a reason why it's hidden.

MC: Because it's too descriptive?

Crowley: ...

Crowley: Did you read it?

MC: I had nothing to do.

Crowley: ...

Crowley: You're grounded.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst ace #twst epel #twst jack #twst sebek #twst crowley

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cherrybomb5000 · 3 days ago

Text

MC: *has been abandoned by Riddle the moment he got a glimpse of Floyd*

MC: =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇)

Jade: Ora? What is a child doing here?

Floyd: Hehehe! So cute~ *decides to approach them*

MC: *still confused about why Riddle ran off, when they suddenly notice a tall figure looming behind them*

MC: ...

Floyd: Hehehe~

Azul: ...Floyd.

Floyd: *trying to convince MC to take off their headgear so they could eat properly*

Floyd: Eat up~.

MC: *shakes their head*

MC: ˙◠˙

Azul: ...

Azul: Floyd.

Floyd: What? Can't you see I'm busy?

Azul: ...

Jade: You're being nice to the new Ignihyde student, Floyd.

Floyd: I'm a big brother to kids hehe~.

Jade: *smiles* That "child" is only two years younger than you.

Floyd: ...

MC: ...

Floyd: Eh... So they're just... really tiny?

MC: ⟳

Jade: Oh, dear.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst floyd #twst jade #twst azul #twst emoji mask

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cherrybomb5000 · 3 days ago

Note

Good evening ( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆

Tis I, your girl, Liya here with a request of bllk boys reacting to their partner making a cake with their face on it because they miss them and eating said-cake (inspired by the geto-cake I have in my fridge aha ♪(/ω＼*)

For the boys, I'd like Sae, Rin, Aiku, Reo, Nagi, Isagi, Bachira, Shidou, Kaiser, Ness and anyone else you'd like to add!

“𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐜 𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦”

a/n: GETO CAKE??? i know it's like... gone by now, but i bet he- I MEAN THE CAKE tasted good

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, aiku oliver, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, kaiser michael, ness alexis

itoshi sae

it starts when you’re bored one weekend and miss him too much. so naturally, your solution is: bake a cake. but not just any cake – a sae cake. you spend hours carefully icing his sharp features onto it, and by the end, you’re both proud and slightly disturbed by your work of art.

when you send him a picture, expecting a dry reply, you get a phone call immediately. he doesn’t even say hi, just: “explain why you made… me.”

you’re like, “i missed you.”

he pauses, and then: “so you ate my face because you missed me?” his tone is so flat, but his ears are definitely pink.

when you send him a follow-up photo of you eating the fondant hairline like it’s nothing, he just sighs. “unbelievable. i go overseas and you turn into a serial killer.”

he tells himself he won’t think about it again, but he absolutely scrolls back to the cake photo later that night. sae’s not one for sentimental gestures, but knowing you missed him enough to spend hours baking him? yeah, it hits.

itoshi rin

rin comes home from training one day and smells vanilla. he assumes you’re just baking something random, but when he sees a cake with his face piped in painstaking detail, he nearly drops his gym bag.

“what… is that supposed to be?” “you!”

rin just stands there for a solid ten seconds, completely thrown. he’s used to you missing him, but he never expected it to manifest in… edible portraiture.

when you slice right through sugar-rin’s cheek and pop it in your mouth, he’s like: “hey. don’t eat my face. that’s– no.”

you laugh so hard you almost choke, but rin sits at the table looking deeply betrayed. when you offer him a bite, he narrows his eyes like you’re testing him.

eventually, he eats a forkful but only from the blank cake part that doesn’t have his face on it. he mutters something about you being insane, but his ears are flushed pink and you catch him sneaking another bite later.

aiku oliver

you facetime oliver, casually holding up the cake like it’s your child. “i missed you, so… i made you.”

he chokes on his water. “holy sh– babe, you baked me???”

when you show him that you’re about to cut into it, he full-on starts laughing, like hand over his face, shoulders shaking. “oh my gosh. i’ve had girls tattoo me, but you making a whole edible me? that’s devotion.”

you take a big bite right from his sugar-smile. “delicious.”

oliver, still dying of laughter: “wow. not only do you want me, you want to consume me. i feel honored.”

he spends the rest of the call teasing you mercilessly, but every once in a while his voice softens, like: “seriously though, that’s… kinda adorable. you’re adorable.”

he keeps a screenshot of you with the cake in his camera roll, and the next time he’s home, he insists on baking one of you so he can dramatically devour your face in revenge.

mikage reo

reo comes over to your place after a long day, ready to flop onto the couch, except he sees a cake waiting on the counter, with his face beautifully iced on top.

his reaction is instant golden retriever mode: “is that– IS THAT ME??” he’s bouncing like a kid, taking pictures from every angle. “i missed you, so i made this,” you say honestly. “this is the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

when you grab a knife and slice it, he puts a hand on his chest dramatically. “you’re… you’re killing me!”

but then he’s grinning ear-to-ear, grabbing plates because he insists you both eat it together. he makes you sit next to him and feed him bites of his own face while he feeds you some. too.

he’s so charmed that he asks you to make another one and not cut it, just so he can keep it in the fridge and admire it. honestly, reo would probably commission a professional bakery to make ultra-realistic cakes of himself just so you never run out.

nagi seishiro

nagi’s lying on the couch when you walk in with a plate and plop down beside him. he glances over and sees… himself. his frosted face staring up at him.

“… eh?” “i missed you, so i baked you, babe.”

he blinks, still processing. then finally shrugs. “that’s troublesome… but cute.”

you stab your fork into icing-nagi’s forehead and eat a big bite. nagi squints at you. “… don’t eat me all at once. save some for later.”

he acts lazy about it, but when you explain how long it took you, his eyes soften just a little. “that’s a pain… you must really like me.”

when you offer him a bite, he just opens his mouth and lets you feed him, then nods with his usual monotone: “tastes good. i taste good.”

later, when he thinks you’re not looking, he takes another bite, but only from the side so he doesn’t “ruin his face.”

isagi yoichi

isagi comes back from practice, sweaty and tired, but as soon as he sees the cake on the table, he freezes. “wait… is that supposed to be me…?”

you nod proudly. “i missed you, so i made a cake of you.”

he’s half laughing, half mortified. “no way. that’s– that’s so embarrassing, but also…” he scratches the back of his neck, cheeks red. “kinda cute.”

when you take the first bite right through his frosted smile, he yelps. “hey! you can’t just eat me like that!” “but you taste good.”

isagi turns bright red but laughs so hard he has to sit down. he grabs his phone to take photos and instantly sends them to bachira, who responds with fifty crying-laughing emojis.

after you finish eating most of it, he insists on cutting himself a slice and dramatically going, “wow. i taste amazing.”

he hugs you after, still laughing: “you’re so weird. but… thank you. i love it.”

bachira meguru

bachira’s the type to catch you in the act. he walks into the kitchen, humming, and stops dead when he sees you carefully carving into a cake with his face smiling back at him.

his eyes light up instantly: “IS THAT ME???” he practically sprints over, grinning so big it hurts.

you admit you missed him, so you baked him. he gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “you love me so much you made me edible?!”

when you take a forkful out of frosting-bachira’s nose, he immediately leans across the counter, eyes sparkling: “okay, but you have to feed me me. i wanna taste myself too.”

you laugh but give him a bite, and he chews thoughtfully before nodding. “yep. i’m delicious.”

he insists on drawing doodles on the rest of the cake with extra icing, adding little silly monster horns and hearts to his own face before you both demolish it together.

shidou ryusei

shidou finds out when you text him a picture of a cake with his face on it, knife already plunged into the middle. your caption: “missed you. so i ate you.”

his reply comes instantly: “holy fuck, i’ve never been so turned on by a dessert.”

when you’re on call with him later, he’s laughing so hard he’s nearly crying. “you could’ve baked literally anything and you chose to make me??? you’re actually insane. i love it.”

when you tell him you stabbed his frosting eye first, he loses it: “my eye??? damn, babe, brutal. at least let me watch next time so i can scream dramatically while you cut into me.”

shidou immediately tells you to save him a slice in the freezer so he can eat himself when he visits. (and yes, he’s dead serious.)

he teases you endlessly, but secretly? he adores it. the fact that you spent time and effort on something that ridiculous just because you missed him, it actually makes him feel warm.

kaiser michael

when you send kaiser a photo of the cake, expecting some banter, his immediate reply is: “makes sense. i’m too pretty not to eat.”

he facetimes you, smirking the entire time. “so you missed me, huh? couldn’t live without my face staring at you? don’t worry, i get it.”

when you dramatically eat a forkful right through his sugar hair, he gasps. “what the hell? my hairline?? unbelievable. i worked hard for that.” “it’s cake.” “... doesn’t matter. i’m delicious in every form.”

he teases you relentlessly, calling you his #1 fan for weeks. “you’re officially obsessed, liebling. first a cake, next you’ll build a shrine.”

but he also saves the photo to his phone, and every time he feels lonely, he scrolls to it and can’t help but grin.

ness alexis

ness stumbles upon your creation when you send him a shy photo of you holding up the cake. his reaction? instant blush. “wait– you… made me?”

he can’t stop smiling, covering his face with his hand. “that’s… so sweet, i don’t even know what to say.”

when you tell him you already cut into it, he pouts a little. “you didn’t even let me admire it before you… destroyed me?”

you reassure him you took photos, and he brightens again. he asks for every single picture you took so he can keep them.

ness is the only one who’s genuinely touched to the point of speechless. “you must’ve worked so hard on this… thank you. i… miss you, too.”

later, he admits it made him so happy he almost cried, even if he won’t say it twice.

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