#Six wives of Moon

[katsettee]

Theyre so silly and sad and tragic

[r-u-living]

The Moon Will Sing is a Crane Wives song. I don't know much about the crane wives, but I do love this song and Matthias, so HERE YOU GO.

First Verse:

"Tell me once again

I could have been anyone, anyone else

Before you made the choice for me

My feet knew the path

We walked in the dark, in the dark

I never gave a single thought to where it might lead."

Matthias is a soldier first are foremost. He could "Have been anyone, anyone else." If that Grisha attack hadn't happened on his village. If it had happened anywhere, anywhere else, he would have grown up to be a kind, loving man. But this isn't that universe. He "Never gave a single thought where it might lead" because he's walked this path of hatred for so long he doesn't second guess himself anymore. He doesn't think about how this could impact the Grisha. How if his family would have even wanted this.

Second Verse:

"All those empty rooms

We could have been anywhere, anywhere else

Instead, I made a bed with apathy

My heart knew the weight

Ten years' worth of dust and neglect

We made our peace with weariness and let it be."

"All those empty rooms." Is a reference to Matthias old home. It was burnt down, but the frame of the house still stood. Burnt, blackened wood. Ash coats his old home. They are no longer full of family or love. Now they stand empty with no one to fill the silence. He "Made a bed with apathy." He made a bed with not caring about his life or the lives of the Grisha he took. (That's why I love Matthias's character. He and Kaz are so similar with their quest for revenge, yet so different in the way they both go about it.) "Ten years worth of dust and neglect. Matthias was twelve when he found Trassel. That's (almost) ten years of hatred for people who are no different than us. He "Made his peace with weariness and let it be." The "let it be." Is his old life in Halmhend. (His old town)

Third Verse:

"The moon will sing a song for me

I loved you like the sun

Bore the shadows that you made

With no light of my own

I shine only with the light you gave me

I shine only with the light you gave me."

Matthias was taken under Jarl Brums wing. Jarl, who was the closest thing to a father figure Matthias had. Jarl, who was the embodiment of hatred. Jarl, who was possibly the worst person to give a young boy, lessons. So you could say that in his fatherless state, he "loved" Jarl Brum. He loved him as much as you can love someone like that. He "Bore that shadows that you made." I like to think Matthias was the one people put the brunt of the work on because he was happy to do it. He was so focused on revenge that he never saw how cruel he could be he had "No light of his own." Because he was basically just a younger filtered version of Jarl all his "victory's" were not his that were all just attributed to Jarl Brums teachings Matthias was happy to let Jarl steal all his "victory's" he "Shines only with the light you gave me" in reference to people attributing Matthias "successes." To Jarl and all his mistakes to himself and one one else.

Fourth Verse:

"Name your courage now

We could have had anything, anything else

Instead, you hoarded all that's left of me

Swallowin' your doubt

Like swords to the pit of my belly

I want to feel the fire that you kept from me."

He "Names his courage now." That when he gave up his views (that grisha were evil) and accepted the friendship and love of Nina and the crows. Again, he "Could have had anything, anything else." Because of the Drüskelle. I'm still not entirely convinced the Grisha actually attacked his village and it wasnt organised by Jarl Brum to build even more hatred for the Grisha and via doing that more support for the crimes the Drüskelle commit to Grisha. "Instead, you hoarded all that's left of me." Jarl hoarded what was left of that kind, sweet boy who loved people. He used that "weakness" against Matthias. "I want to feel the fire you kept from me." (The way this song is so perfect!!! Matthias village was burnt down by Inferni!!) The fire could be used in the way of Grisha power. Inferi can control fire, and Nina has such a firey personality that you could also use it in that sense. Matthias wants to feel the culture he has been kept from for so long. He wants to know the flames of rebellion.

Sixth Verse:

"The moon will sing a song for me

I loved you like the sun

Bore the shadows that you made

With no light of my own

I shine only with the light you gave me

I shine only with the light you gave me

I shine only with the light you gave me

(I could have been anyone, anyone)

I shine only with the light you gave me

(I could have been anyone, anyone)"

I think this verse is more about Nina. He loved his like the sun in the sense he noticed her when she came out and shine right into his face. He loved the crows like a big brother who left too soon. He bore their shadows and shone only when he died. I think everyone can say the saddest on one of the best character death chapters in literature is Matthias. Because he cares and we learn to care for him because we see things from his point of view. We learn his story better than we could if this book was single pov. He had no light, but he learnt how to sunbath with the crows. He learnt how to lovingly hate someone with Kaz. He learnt how to love someone you know is bad from Inej. He learnt how to fall-head-over-heels for someone and have them do the same with Wylan and Jesper. He showed Nina all these things before he died. His wolves are proud of them.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Sun Myung Moon questioned in 1982 in court about marriages and children

PART 2

ANTHONY COLOMBRITO [a UC member. The UC funded his case against Kelly] v. GALEN G. KELLY, et al

[U.S. District Court Judge Richard Owen] [Kelly’s lawyer was John T. DeGraff Jr. of Albany]

United States District Court, Southern District, New York 79 Civ. 6205 (RO) May 27, 1982

This is the only time Sun Myung Moon was questioned in court in the U.S. His lawyers tried to stop the questioning.

Moon was subpoenaed to testify in the nonjury trial of a $9-million claim filed by one of his followers, Anthony Colombrito, 30, of Brick Town, N.J. Colombrito has charged that Galen Kelly of Kingston, N.Y., kidnaped him in 1979 and attempted to “deprogram” him from the teachings of the Unification Church.

See here for more background to the case. LINK

______________________

continued from Part 1

page 177

Q. When did you start the Unification Church, Reverend Moon?

A. In May 1954.

Q. Where did you start it?

A. In Seoul, Korea.

Q. When did you first come to America?

A. In 1963. [He first arrived in San Francisco, U.S., on February 12 or 13, 1965]

Q. When were you first married, Reverend Moon?

MR. GUTMAN: I object to the relevancy of that, your Honor.

THE COURT: How is that relevant, Mr. DeGraff?

MR. DeGRAFF: Well, I believe, your Honor, in the teachings of the Unification Church, that Reverend Moon and his wife represent the true parents in Unification theology and at least they represent the true parents as to many of the members of the church.

As I understand it, the role of the true parents is to help the restoration of man to his original state before the fall of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden and that they do this by following the example set by the true parents who are able to restore them to their original state before the original sin because they lead perfect lives and that further in his talk with God, he was told to have twelve children; that it has been an embarrassment to Reverend Moon because he has admittedly had one marriage in Korea which ended in a divorce.

It is my understanding that he had two other marriages in Korea which are not included in the theology of the church and it is my further understanding that he has had other children than the thirteen he now accounts for —

MR. STILLMAN: Can we get an offer of proof on that, your Honor? Terrible, terrible, terrible, to allow him to do that.

MR. DeGRAFF: It is also my feeling that, as the role of true parents is superior to that of the role of the real parents which creates one of the basic problems, as I see it, between the church and the society and that’s sort of a convoluted reasoning of what I am driving at.

MR. GUTMAN: I would characterize it not only as convoluted but as impertinent in both senses of the word.

It is not pertinent to the issues and it is an impertinence to raise such issues.

If the defendant is offering the proposition that even if true a man who has had multiple marriages is somehow to be impeached, that his testimony is not to be credited, that somehow it can be used against him, that is an alarming proposition.

(continued on next page)

Page 180

THE COURT: No, I don’t think he is offering it for that.

MR. GUTMAN: I don’t understand what he is offering it for and what’s more, your Honor, it is not — this is not from Mr. DeGraff’s mouth an offer of proof. This is his “I understand that,” and “perhaps there is information to the effect that,” none of which is before the Court, none of which is in evidence and therefore what we have done is we have had Mr. DeGraff color the record as though it were a predicate to a question which is itself not only an intrusion upon the privacy of a witness, it is immaterial and irrelevant to the issues in this case but is offensive in every sense of the word.

The number of divorced people in this country who might find themselves with their status for veracity or otherwise impeached because they have been through a divorce would be staggering. It is an inappropriate line of inquiry and —

THE COURT: I think it’s a question of whether the witness’ representations as to his status in the course of espousing his theology or in fact different than what the fact is which I assume counsel means to urge then on the Court that it casts some question on the beliefs that are held as to the role of a true parent or a real parent vis-a-vis the young people that are recruited into the church.

Mr. DeGraff, do I state your position —

MR. DE GRAFF: Yes, your Honor.

THE COURT: All right. On that basis, I will overrule the objection. It has nothing to do with a predicate. It has to do with a comparison of the teachings and the fact to determine whether the beliefs are truly held and espoused.

MR. GUTMAN: Is it then the predicate for such a question that a human being, albeit one who believes he is in contact with God and God’s prophets, must be — have been perfect and made no mistakes?

THE COURT: It is a question of what the representation has been. No, not perfect.

MR. GUTMAN: There are no representations before the Court against which to compare the answers that might be elicited from the witness.

THE COURT: I think we have had testimony of witnesses as to what they understood upon coming into the church Reverend Moon represented to them. He was in their lives as their spiritual parent.

MR. GUTMAN: The words spiritual parents

Page 182

have indeed been used but I recall nothing in the record which would indicate that anyone said that he or she heard a representation from Reverend Moon as to how many times he had been married and if so what relevance that would have to this lawsuit.

THE COURT: I think one witness did, as a matter of fact. Didn’t one witness testify about nothing about one divorce? I think one witness did.

…

THE COURT: It seems to me that if a spiritual leader of a church represents to his followers that he has a certain function as their spiritual parents and that he has a certain function as a purity as a spiritual parent, that that pronouncement is thrown into some question if it turns out that it isn’t so. That has nothing to do with religion. It has to do with sheer appraisal of the sincerity of the beliefs and the circumstances under which they are propounded.

MR. GUTMAN: I point out to your Honor that you have just stated an alarming proposition. That if a man claims to be pure and therefore people ought to follow his example, that it is the proposal of this Court to tolerate and sanction and participate in a line of questioning as to the purity of the person.

I would suggest —

THE COURT: No. I am not doing that at all.

MR. GUTMAN: That’s what you just said, with most respect.

THE COURT: Then you misunderstood me. What I am saying if there has been an announcement, writing or speech or otherwise, that he is not a multi-divorced person and it turns out that he in fact is, it seems to me that has bearing in a number of directions in this case. That’s all I am saying. Nothing to do with religion at all.

All right. I’ll overrule the objection.

MR. DE GRAFF: Maybe I can start all over again.

Q. Reverend Moon, please accept my apologies for pronunciation here. But was your first wife’s name Sang Ik Choi? [It was Seon-gil Choi – Sang Ik Choi was a male in the 36 couples.]

A. Yes, that’s right. [INCORRECT. It was Seon-gil Choi.]

Q. And when did you marry her?

A. In 1944.

Q. And did you have any children by her?

A. Yes.

Q. How many?

…

A. Two. [FALSE STATEMENT. He had Sung-Jin Moon with her in April 1946 and Hee-jin Moon with Myung-hee Kim in August 1955.]

Q. Were they both boys. Reverend Moon?

A. I have one boy but the second one is deceased. [Hee-jin Moon died in August 1969.]

Q. Reverend Moon, did you subsequently marry Young Hi Kim? [Myung-hee Kim, the mother of Hee-jin Moon.]

…

A. No. I did not marry to her. [He may have married her on June 30, 1955.]

Q. Did you have a son by her, Reverend Moon?

A. Yes, I met her during Korean War.

Q. I believe my question was, did he have a child or a son by her.

MR. GUTMAN; Your Honor, I thought the line of inquiry was addressed to how many times he was married. Now the answer is he never married this lady. Whether or not she gave birth to a child seems to me irrelevant to the proceeding.

THE COURT: How is that irrelevant.

MR. DE GRAFF: I don’t know quite what he means by he never married her.

MR. GUTMAN: I think that means that he never went through a marriage ceremony. That’s my understanding of the English language.

THE COURT: Unless you can give me some showing of relevance to this. I’ll sustain the objection.

MR. DE GRAFF: Your Honor, it was my understanding that he was not only married to her but he had a son by her.

Page 186

MR. GUTMAN: Now you are testifying. The witness has said no. You saying yes doesn’t make it so.

MR. DE GRAFF: I know that, Mr. Gutman.

MR. GUTMAN: If you have other proofs, do what you have to do with it. Don’t argue with the witness.

MR. DE GRAFF: My point is he denied marrying her but he seemed to intimate that he did have a child by her by his answer.

MR. GUTMAN: I beg your pardon, Mr. DeGraff.

There is no such intimation. The Court has not ruled on than question yet. There is no intimation in the record.

THE COURT: It seems to me if he wasn’t married to her the next question is not relevant to our inquiry in this case.

MR. DE GRAFF: I think the relevance, your Honor, bears on his role as the true parent and I think it is very material because the true parents are the models of perfection or all the members of the Unification Church and through following and modeling their lives after the true parent, they can reach the restoration which is one of the three big principles of the Unification Church theology.

…

THE COURT: The objection to the last question is overruled. You may answer.

(Record read)

THE COURT: The question was answered by MR. DeGRAFF:

Q. Did you divorce your first wife, Reverend Moon?

…

A. I divorced her upon her initiative because she was somewhat not familiar with my religious belief.

Q. In what year was that, Reverend Moon?

A. In 1955. [FALSE. Seon-gil Choi legally divorced SMM on January 8, 1957.]

Q. And you said, Reverend Moon, that she was not familiar with your religious way of life? Was that the reason?

A. Yes, because she had her own way of religion.

[Her grounds for divorce were Moon's adultery and illegitimate children – two were born in 1955. That is why Moon gave a false earlier date of 1955 for the divorce.]

Q. Were you ever married to a woman, Reverend Moon, known as Miss Kim?

MR. GUTMAN: I trust my continuing objection remains in the record, your Honor.

THE COURT: Yes, it does. I am permitting this because it seems to be appropriate, given the teachings of the Unification Church with regard to chastity, abstinence, etc., etc. This inquiry bears upon whether such beliefs are truly held and the comparison of what a leader does in comparison to what he imposes on his followers would shed, it seems to me, some light on that question.

…

MR. DeGRAFF: May I have the last question read back, please — I think I know it.

Q. The question was, I believe: Were you ever married to a woman known as Miss Kim?

A. I have never heard of someone by the name of Miss Kim, whom you are referring to. There are so many rumors against me by which I am suffering tremendously.

Page 190

Q. What is the name of your present wife, Reverend Moon?

THE INTERPRETER: I beg your pardon?

Q. What is the name of your present wife, Reverend Moon?

…

A. Hak Ja Han.

Q. You married her when she was 18 and you were 40, Reverend Moon?

MR. GUTMAN: Is that relevant, your Honor?

THE COURT: Is it relevant?

MR. DeGRAFF: Well, I think it goes to the same point I was going to.

MR. GUTMAN: Is it Mr. DeGraff’s argument that there is something immoral or reprehensible ~

THE COURT: I will sustain an objection to that.

Q. Reverend Moon, did you ever have a conversation with Jesus Christ where he told you to have twelve children to represent the twelve disciples?

A. I don’t understand where you had such notion.

Q. I assume your answer is no, Mr. Moon?

A. Jesus Christ didn’t tell me so.

…

Q. Reverend Moon, I don’t mean to repeat myself, but when was it you first came to America?

A. In 1965.

Q. What was the purpose of your visit to America?

A. I was on my way to visit forty countries around the world in order to find out holy places where I can pray to God.

Page 192

Q. At the time you first came to the United States of America was there any — withdraw that — was there any formal setup for the Unification Church in this country?

A. Yes, in San Francisco.

Q. Do you know approximately how many members there were in the United States in the Unification Church at the time you first came to American in 1965?

MR. GUTMAN: I object on grounds of relevance and materiality.

THE COURT: How is that relevant?

MR. DeGRAFF: I am now getting into the area of the Reverend Moon’s coming to the United States, the build-up of the church, fund raising and areas of that nature.

…

THE COURT: I will permit this question.

Go ahead.

A. I don’t have the exact number, but the regular members of my church wasn’t too great. I understand there maybe was 100 to 150, including the San Francisco area — in the whole area, including San Francisco.

Q. At this time that you had come to America in 1967, what methods had you been using in Korea to raise money for the Unification Church?

…

THE COURT: This had to do with how funds were raised in Korea?

…

MR. DeGRAFF: 1967, when he first came to this country.

MR. GUTMAN: The witness said 1965.

MR. DeGRAFF: Excuse me, 1965.

…

A. It was based on contributions.

Q. How many members, Reverend Moon, did you have in your church in Korea at that time?

…

THE WITNESS: I don’t have the exact number. It could be in tens of thousands.

Q. Reverend Moon, what methods did the Unification Church employ at that time to solicit contributions to the church?

MR. GUTMAN: Now we certainly have crossed the line, your Honor. How a church raises its money is the business of the church. If there is an allegation—

THE COURT: No. You see, you made it the business of this court by bringing a $9 million lawsuit claiming that Galen Kelly had no right to interfere with a young man who had been out selling flowers out of a bucket, after being a college graduate, for two years, how many times have I said, 8:00 in the morning until 11:00 o’clock at night, except weekends when he is out to 3:00.

You put that in issue by bringing a $9 million lawsuit. The fund raising methods, whether they were induced by brainwashing, were a subject of mind control, all of those things were raised by this lawsuit in which you said that Kelly by interfering with Colombrito’s doing this was in violation of his civil rights. You have put that in issue.

So what he is asking here is what kind of methods did Reverend Moon use in his church in Korea, to see whether he has the same methods in Korea that he has here.

Is that what you are saying?

MR. DeGRAFF: Yes.

MR. GUTMAN: Your Honor, it was not the plaintiff that raised the issues that you refer to.

With all due respect, it was yourself and Mr. DeGraff. You have taken judicial notice of a rather bizarre concept, over objection, that there is something called brainwashing. I had thought that judicial notice was taken of things like Thursday comes after Wednesday, not on controversial —

THE COURT: I don’t want to be misquoted because I am going to get uptight about it if I am. You and I discussed the fact that I was quoting you, and I think I corrected you once before when you misquoted me — I was taking judicial notice of what I read in the newspapers during the Korean War. I don’t want to be taken beyond that one step farther by anything you put on this record.

Let’s just get on with our trial. The objection is overruled.

What is the last question?

Q. I believe my last question was, back in 1965 what methods did the Unification Church use to solicit contributions.

A. Through voluntary activities of church members.

Q. Can you describe to me, Reverend Moon, what some of those activities were?

…

A. The fund raising activities were confined to the church itself, organized and carried out by church members themselves.

Q. Can you please, Reverend Moon, give me specific examples of what they did to raise money?

…

A. As in the case of other many churches, the contributions were offered right after Sunday prayer.

Q. To be more specific, Reverend Moon, did any members of your church in Korea, from the time it was formed up until 1965, engage in the selling of flowers or candy to raise money for the church?

…

A. No. The church operated without such activities.

...

____________________________________

Sun Myung Moon had a girlfriend in 1941

The six ‘wives’ of Sun Myung Moon

Moon’s first wife, Choi Seon-gil, and Kim Deok-jin interviewed

The Choi family’s entanglements with Moon

Sun Myung Moon’s second wife – Kim Chong-hwa in Pyongyang

Sun Myung Moon’s third wife – Kim Myung-hee

The lie that Kim Myung-hee was raped in Japan

Sun Myung Moon’s fourth wife, Won-pok Choi

Hong Soon-ae, the mother of Hak Ja Han

Dong-sook, born in 1955 and listed as a ‘True Child’, was married to Sung-jin Moon

Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child – Mother Jones link

PART 1:

Sun Myung Moon questioned under subpoena in court in New York, May 1982

[lokischocolatefountain]

home in three days, do not wash

Fandom: Gladiator II Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Wife!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: age gap, mild choking, mentions of child death, hurt comfort, breeding kink, lactation, reader has children, taboo for the time oral sex, talk of war. Word count: 3.6k words Summary: Your General returns home ravenous for you and you cannot decline him, even if any exposure of his act would bring him great shame. A/N: Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the awesome graphics. Napoleon said 'be home in three days, do not wash' and what was I supposed to do? Not use it for our big thicc roman general returning home from war to fuck us? I did research and shit and came to know that eating pussy was a big no no back in the day. dj Khaled would love to be an ancient roman ig. also learned that rich ladies didn't breastfeed and used a wet nurse but they knew that breastfeeding could help and some women did it. Outside all that research, it's just depravity, baby. Anyway, validate my depravity with some comments pls.

Laughter echoed through the hallways of your palatial home and you stood at a balcony with the best view from atop the hill. The campaign that had taken your husband away had finally come to an end with victory for Rome. Far from the hustle and bustle of the city, you were always one of the last people to receive the latest news of importance. This time was an exception to the rule. 

Home in three days. Do not wash.

All you wanted when you received the message was to run in the direction of the roads that would bring your beloved home. Three days were too long. You wanted to curtail the long wait, run to him so you would be in one another’s arms in a day and a half. 

But you chose the more realistic path and prepared the home for his arrival. The servants polished every surface, your handmaiden ensured you had all your most preferred clothing— that which he loved to see on your body. The kitchen was busy preparing every meal that the master loved. Your two older children with your general busied themselves recollecting everything they learned from their private tutor to impress their father. 

Your youngest, your first son, was still so young he had never met his father. He was the child your dearest had longed to have for so long. For all the luck the gods had given him in the battlefield, they had given very little in the way of children to carry his legacy. In his heart, he was father to seven daughters and six sons. The gods had only allowed four daughters to live. Two of his sons passed in infancy, one passed in birth, taking his mother with him. One other was taken by disease and another killed in battle. 

He now had only one son and he hadn’t yet the joy of holding him in his arms. Everyday that Marcus was in the battlefield was torture. Babe on your breast and fear in your heart over whether his father would live to see him. Fear sometimes subsided for anger to have its way. That very anger remained in your chest, prepared to unleash on him the moment he stepped into the home. 

When the sun dimmed, night crept in and so did Marcus. You refused to greet him at the door. A warm welcome was reserved for men who told their wives where they were going before they left. You had half a mind to ask for a bath to be prepared. To wash yourself with milk and fragrant oils in front of him so he could see your defiance in action. 

But you remained in the balcony, eyes set on the moon who served as your companion when he left you. For all the fury you had for him, there was also an ache of sympathy. You wouldn’t sour his mood the moment he entered. He must see his son first. Then you would see to that he groveled at your feet for his cruelty. 

Just as you thought, you had a long time to relax on the settee. He always went to his children first. Be it after months away on the battlefield or a mere day in the city. You asked for your son’s crib to be moved to your daughters’ room so he would be able to see them all at once, saving him the battle of choosing between his great loves. You’d sent word to him on the battlefield after you gave birth, sent him the name of his son so he would know to include him in his prayers. 

You heard whispers of his voice conversing with a servant. Your heart quickened its pace, each thud against your ribs matching the thuds of his feet against the floor. Oh how you wanted to turn around. It had been so long since your eyes were blessed with him. His towering height, broad frame, the pink of his lips and the curls you so loved to comb through with your fingers. You trembled, the cold breeze reminding you how devoid you’d been of his warmth. Yet you were resolved to not give yourself up to him so soon. You stayed in place and closed your eyes.

He stopped behind you and your name spilled from his lips like honey. It had been so long since anyone spoke your name so… The servants called you mistress and your children called you mother. Your birth family only wrote your name in their many letters. He was the only one who spoke your name, leaving you without hearing your own name since his departure. But you stayed, did not turn, did not open your eyes. He spoke it again, his voice gentle but louder as he stopped at your side. 

“Open your eyes, dearest.” 

“Where have you come, General?” You asked, your voice cold enough to be the envy of the winter breeze. 

“General?” He asked, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. 

“Are you not a General?” You taunted, finally opening your eyes. He looked weary from battle and travel. You longed to take him to your chambers and strip him of his armor to count his wounds, kiss each one be it new or old. His hair was grayer than when he left, his skin duller, but his eyes were still the soft brown that gave you peace when you first saw him as his young bride. 

“Your General,” he said with a small smile as though his words were supposed to make you forgive him at once and shower him with kisses. It only strengthened your resolve. If he wouldn’t treat you as a wife, you wouldn’t give him the respect of a husband. 

“You have a son,” you said, stretching your legs out in the settee just as he made to take his seat there. His hand wrapped around your ankle and you kicked it off, daring him to make another attempt at moving your legs so he could sit. He smiled softly, conceding as he moved to stand by your head. 

“He is beautiful, mellilla,” he said, caressing your cheek. You slapped his hand away. All of Rome may fall at his feet and welcome him back with praises of his victory. He was deserving of course, not only for his achievements but for his undying loyalty to Rome. If Rome were a woman, she would be his principal wife and you— you would only be a tavern whore he fucked and left in the dead of night. 

“You block the moonlight, General Acacius.” 

“Marcus,” he said, moving to allow you sight of the moon once again. He sat in the little remaining space on the settee and looked down at you. Despite the toll war had taken on him, he was incredibly handsome. Bold nose, pink lips and graying curls that only made him look ever so slightly more distinguished. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You did not return the kiss, but you did not push him away. There was an limit even to your anger. You placed a hand on his shoulder, the act of denying yourself the joy of your lover weighing heavy in your heart.

“I’m afraid I haven’t such an honor.” You bit down on your lip, annoyed at yourself for the trembling of your voice as you spoke. Your anger for him had a foundation of pain after all. 

His face fell and he sighed. He looked down at his lap and you hoped it was from shame.

“If you have nothing to say, you may leave. If you need it, you may summon the servants for your meal. But I am sure the emperor did not send his best general hungering for food or cunt,” you spat, rising to sit up on the settee. Hand as strong as iron wrapped around your wrist, coupling with his strong torso that trapped you in place to keep you from getting up. You squirmed in his grasp, but he did not budge.

“Listen to me.” 

“Is that an order?” 

He wrapped an arm around you and held your cheek in his hand. You looked up at him, giving him biting fury to his firm yet gentle gaze. “If it is the only way I will have your obedience, then yes. It is an order.” 

“You may speak, but you cannot make me listen and you most certainly cannot make me respond.” 

“I am your husband.” 

“A husband doesn’t leave for a year long war at the dead of night with no explanation to the woman swelling with his child,” you screamed, fist slamming against his chest. It didn’t affect Marcus. Nothing affected the great General Acacius, you thought with derision. You hit him in the chest again, tears brimming in your eyes and clouding your vision.

“Forgive me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You ceased your attacks as his apology coupled with the pain in his eyes reduced you to tears. You’d kept everything in for so long, put on a brave face for your daughters and hid your heart in your letter to your father. It was only with Marcus that you didn’t need to hide. He always tore your fears down and pulled you into the safety of his arms.

“I wouldn’t have been able to leave had I said goodbye.” 

“I was so afraid,” you confessed, leaning into his chest. Every pretense of strength and composure left your body as you let him hold you to his chest. The gold earrings you wore to please his eyes pressed cold against your skin under his hand. He moved next to your hair and then you neck, the hand that held swords and spilled blood only to return home to love you. 

“Carissima…You were all I could think of after I left. Forgive me,” he begged, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to each finger. 

“Later. I have missed you. Marcus,” you whispered, craning your neck to kiss him. He returned your kiss in an instant, arms cradling you as you devoured each other. He smelled of war— blood, soil, sweat, and leather. It was far more pleasing to your senses than any fragrant oils and flowers. Your Marcus and his distinctly masculine scent was above all but the fragrance of your newborn. 

You whined as he retreated. He laughed and returned to scatter kisses along your jawline like Rome scattered rose petals along the steps of the Colosseum for his feet. He reached under your layers of silk and linen, making you tremble and press yourself closer to his chest. 

“So soft…” 

“I need you, please.” It was all he needed to hear before he walked up to the doors of the balcony and slammed them shut. What he did with you, for you, wasn’t for anyone else’s eyes but your own. 

He unlatched the gold clips that held your palla to your shoulders and set them aside. Your stola and tunic followed, piling up on the marble floor. Cold air caressed your bare breasts, bigger and fuller now as you nursed your son yourself. You traced your hand up his arm, feeling his vambrace before finding his muscular arms. You whimpered from just how big he was in your hands. You squeezed, feeling the hard muscle and rough skin. 

Your General knelt before you and you sat up straight, confused by his action. He couldn’t be… You sought his apologies and regret, but by no means would you ask him to humiliate himself for you. Such a man, superior to you in every way. 

“Dominus!” You shrieked, reminding him who he was even when he came home. 

“Shh…” 

“Are you going to—?”

“Lick you cunt? Yes. Sit back, now,” he said as he guided you to lean back on the settee. You shook your head from side to side, appalled by the circumstances and confused as to how you were supposed to stop him. He spread your legs wide, planting your feet upon the seat. He licked his plush lips and looked up at you, his eyes those of a ravenous beast. 

“You cannot. I only want you to understand the torture you put me through, not debase yourself in front of me. It’s not right.”  

A corner of his lips curled up slightly. He spat on his hand and rubbed it into your cunt. You arched into his palm, your cunt chasing any contact you could have with your beloved. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” 

“You.”

“Speak fully and speak my name.” 

“I belong to you, Marcus.” 

“Correct. Why do you think then, that you can tell me what I can and cannot do with you?” 

He parted your cunt lips and slid a finger inside you. “You belong to me. All of you. This cunt belongs to me. Does it not?” You nodded as he pumped his thick finger in and out of you. It had been so long since you’d been touched that even his finger felt a little much for you to take. You shuddered as you thought of his cock, promising the virility that came with such a size. 

“Speak,” he commanded, every bit the fearsome General who led men into battle. When even warriors couldn’t defy him, how could you? 

“It belongs to you, Marcus.” 

“Mmm,” he rumbled, curling his finger inside you, making you whimper. “If I want to lick this cunt then, do you have any right to stop me?” 

“N-no,” you cried, grabbing his wrist and imploring him to slow down for you couldn’t take such intoxicating pleasure. “If peo— Marcus! If someone knew—”

Then he dove into your core and licked the nub above your cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. He looked up at you from between your legs, tongue still licking you as he smirked. It was sinful, the sight and the act of a man serving a woman. You shook your head, your senses already addled from being so close to him after a long year. It was wrong. Wrong. But oh gods, he made all the wrongs feel right and who were you to deny him? 

Tears rolled down your cheeks, no longer from the agony of separation from your dearest but from the building pressure in your core. 

“Marcus…” you said, unable to say anything else. You reached your hand towards him, needing to be anchored to the Earth as he flew you to the heavens. He enveloped your hand in his and gave a small squeeze. His other hand and his lips were unrelenting, giving him new ways to torment you. 

How did anyone deem it submissive for a man to kneel and lick cunt? Your Marcus still looked as majestic as ever. The picture of victory that Rome worshiped. The Marcus Acacius who slew and killed was home and ruthless in his conquest of you. Even as he licked your core, he was the one with all the power in hand. This was but a new way for him to take you. 

You gasped inaudibly as he inserted another finger in your cunt, stretching you in preparation for his cock. You felt your unraveling come closer. He pulled you deeper into whatever spell he had you under whenever he touched your cunt. You squeezed his hand tighter, saying everything your lips couldn’t. Hold me, keep me safe, never let me go.

The waves crashed against the rocks on the shores of the beach as you came crashing down from the heavens. Marcus kept his wordless promise. You tightened your legs around his head yet he held you in place and kept you safe. 

When you came to, you found your fingers tangled in between his dark curls. You loosened your grip on him but did not let go, needing to feel him even if it was just his hair. 

“I should not have liked that.” 

He laughed and gave your cunt another lick, smirking as he watched you shudder. 

“But you did,” he said, getting up at last. “I knew you tasted divine, but having you directly from your cunt is something else, melilla.” 

“I have not washed in days because of you. I am sure I taste horrendous.” 

“Good girl, following orders well. But you are wrong. You taste and smell like a woman. Not a perfumed woman. This,” he said in a low voice as the tip of his nose traced up your neck. He inhaled your scent and moaned. “This is nothing you can find in a vial. This is your true scent,” he said, stopping at your ear and placing a kiss. 

“I would recognize it anywhere.” He reached under his pteruges and toga and retrieved his cock. Your cunt clenched at the mere sight of him. 

He was far too covered. As much as you loved to see your General in his armor, you loved more to see him bare. You needed to run your fingers over his bare chest and dig your fingernails into his shoulders as he wrung his pleasure out of you.  You found the ties that held his armor in place and began to undo them. 

“Impatient girl,” he chided as he aligned himself with your cunt. 

“Help me out then,” you snapped back as you struggled with the knots. He ignored your request and continued on his path of destroying you, plunging his length inside you much too quickly. You cried from the pain and pleasure of being stretched out by him once again. 

“Marcus!” 

He bent forward and whispered your name against your lips before claiming them. You moaned into the kiss as you rubbed yourself against him for friction. You were loath to pull away from his cock even the slightest as you ached for him too much to part from him. You wrapped your legs around him and pressed your heels down on his back, pulling him deeper inside you. 

He wrapped a hand around your throat, tightening and loosening every now and then. “Day and night, I longed for you,” he whispered, his breath mixing with yours. “Dreamt of the day I would be inside you again.” 

You echoed the sentiment, but he quickly silenced you with a hard thrust that you felt in the deepest part of your core. He wasn’t the gentle Marcus who treated you like you did your fine silks but the General who conquered every land he set foot on. He rammed in and out of you, reclaiming you as his. Your cunt opened up to take its master, molded itself around him like it did each time since your wedding night. He had taken you, his young bride, and shown you a world only he could. He’d taken and taken, made you a woman by showing you what your body could do for you. 

He licked up your neck, growling like he was tasting the finest delicacies from the emperors’ table after being starved for months. “You smell sweet, Carisimma.” 

“You lived in tents with men for a year. I’m sure a pig would smell sweet to you now,” you said, making him laugh even as he wrecked you. He reached down to your breasts and grabbed one in his hand. He pinched your nipple between his fingers and tugged, making you cry out in pain. 

“Marcus!” Drops of milk trickled from your breasts and he swiped it with him thumb before licking it. 

“I only regret that I could not see you grow bigger with my seed.” 

“You ha- you have seen it before.” 

“Yet I am not satisfied. I need more, I need to fill you up with my seed, keep you full with my children in perpetuity.” 

“Marcus! Please…” 

“What do you beg for, girl?” 

“Give me sons, Marcus. Let me give you heirs,” you cried, overcome by the need to become his in that primal way. It was more than just your duty as his wife. It was an innate desire. As frightening as pregnancy was, you wanted it again and again at the hands of your husband. To give him sons carry his name and daughters who would control the great General with their laughter. 

“Give me sons,” he repeated, the hand around your neck squeezing tight. This time, he did not relax, holding your air hostage as he used your cunt for his carnal desires. You gasped for breath. Your cunt squeezed around him, keeping him in so he would give you his seed and refusing to let go even for a moment. 

Every thrust after sent delicious ripples of pain. You knew that you would wake the next morning unable to walk as usual. You would hear your servant girls giggle when they thought you couldn’t hear. He would wreck you day and night, make you scream for all the house to hear. He would take you to high places in the city, an arrogant smile on his lips as he showed you off, rounded again with his child. 

As though he could read your thoughts, he spilled inside you with a cry of your name. You held him close, afraid he would part from your body and rob you of his warmth. 

He showered you with kisses, beginning as a downpour and ending with a drizzle. You melted into his arms, the tension in your muscles leaving now that you had your Marcus home. You were no longer alone, he was here and he would take care of everything. 

“Am I forgiven now?” 

You smiled, burrowing into his chest as draped your discarded silk over you and picked you up in his arms. “I will consider it if you make sure I don’t bleed this cycle.” 

You felt his chest rumble as he laughed. A kiss on the top of your head.

“As you say, melilla.”

Fic notifications blog

[ponderingmoonlight]

Heya, could you write one for Tanjirou where the reader gets hurt on a mission and he feels bad about letting it happen as they were protecting Nezuko and he has feelings for her?

Thanks. I love your writing and take your time x

Okay I LOVE THIS

Tanjiro realizing his feelings for reader after she risks her life to protect Nezuko

Pairing: Tanjiro x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Synopsis: Despite being well-composed and never deciding without thinking twice, you find yourself recklessly risking your life in order to protect Nezuko from getting hurt by Daki. Little do you know what an impact your second impulsive choice will have...

Warnings: severe injury, near death experience, fluff over fluff with Tanjiro with probably the cutest ending I've ever written, not proofread, I'll use one collage and one stand-alone AI pic so if this triggers you, I suggest not to read or look at them 🤍

You never considered yourself impulsive. No, you never acted out of a feeling, never operated without thinking twice. Always kept your composure, a cool head. Maybe this is the reason for you still being alive, the reason why you are able to call yourself a quite skilled demon slayer on the side of your friends.

“You’ll come with me. I need you to look out for my wives.”

It was clear right from the start that this wouldn’t be an easy mission. All of Tengen’s wives enjoyed education when it comes to fighting skills. As a former shinobi, he made sure they were able to defend themselves. If he lost contact to them, it was clear something bigger is behind it. Something way bigger than anything you witnessed until that day.

“I can’t allow you to take (y/n) with you like that. I will join!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouted from behind with his oh so confident voice.

You will never forget the way he smiled at you back then, how much he cared for your well-being each and everyday since you arrived in the red-light district.

“I would never allow a demon to hurt one of my friends!”

Friends. Not quite the word you’d like to use for him. Since you first met each other when he saved you during the final selection, you always kept an eye open for the boy with the special kimono.

And his sister.

Apart from many people who dislike her, you loved Nezuko since the first day you laid eyes on her. Slowly but surely, it became your mission as well to save her, to free her from the curse of being a demon.

“I guess I’ll never be able to thank you enough for your support.”

You didn’t allow yourself to look at him, fully aware of that you’d get lost in his tender orbs again if you do. No, instead your eyes roamed about the glittering city to your feet, drifting over the facial expressions of the people underneath you.

“We’re friends, right? This is what friends do”, you murmured into the night.

Oh, you didn’t believe yourself a single word. What a filthy little lie to call Tanjiro a friend when all you are able to think about is his smell, when his voice is everything that lingers through your mind. Are friends supposed to think about one another constantly, to ponder about how their lips might feel pressed against each other? You promised yourself to never find out. After all, revealing your true feelings might scare him away forever. And losing Tanjiro all at once is definitely far worse than calling yourself his friend. After all, this would be impulsive with a not foreseeable outcome.

But even after you swore you’d never act out of a feeling, you find yourself sprinting into certain death.

It all happened faster than you expected. Inosuke managed to find Tengen’s wives and therefore the demon.

The upper moon six, to be exact.

The devilish who injured not only your friends, but Tanjiro as well. And now, she’s about to injure Nezuko as well.

Apart from your usual composed self, you find yourself dashing forward while grabbing the handle of your katana tightly. This is ridiculous, you don’t stand a chance against a demon like hair. Nezuko is a demon herself, she’d probably recover from her injuries.

You furrow your eyebrows, eyes fixated on both of them. It doesn’t matter right now. All you are able to think about is helping your friend.

“Get your filthy hands away from her”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

A well-placed hit. Your knee hits the ground roughly. Then everything around you is discoloured red.

Like in slow motion, you watch your own body sink onto the ground lifelessly. Your lungs feel like collapsing any given minute while you gasp for air like a fish on land. Blood takes your sight, drips down onto the already soaked floor while all you can do is watch in sheer horror as that hell of a demon grins at you.

“You did well until now. Dumb girl, why would you even think about defending a demon? Look how weak you are.”

The urge to cough becomes unbearable. Over and over, you spit out your own blood until your ribs feel like breaking. Did she hit you? Are you severely injured? Apart from your aching lungs, your body feels completely numb, almost lifeless. Like in slow motion, you watch as she walks towards you, the upper moon six emblem sparkling dreadfully in her eyes.

Is this your end?

What a senseless way to die when Nezuko is a demon. After all, even an upper moon wouldn’t be able to kill another demon without the right blade to do so. You never considered yourself so impulsive, so reckless.

Your eyes dart towards Tanjiro’s beloved sister who puts up a desperate fight against all the debris that buried her. Not everything needs to make sense.

It doesn’t make sense you decided to spare her life in the first place. It doesn’t make sense that you fell for her brother, that you allowed yourself feelings deeper than sympathy in a world full of cruelness and death. It doesn’t make sense that you decided to follow the sound hashira only to rescue his wives, that you actually considered going with him on your own.

All of that because you are so madly in love with Tanjiro. All of that because you view Nezuko as your own sister and could never allow another person to hurt her.

“What an ugly girl you are with your face twisted like that. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

You can hear your flesh bursting underneath another merciless hit of her belt, feel the throbbing pain that starts radiating through your bones. You will die right here and now, without any doubt. And you will die without seeing his face again, without telling him a single word about your true feelings.

“Don’t worry (y/n), I’m sure we’ll be fine! And as soon as we’re back, I’ll invite you to a bowl of ramen!”

A bowl of ramen?

Like in trance, you press your hand onto your leg, feel your busted flesh all too clearly, your very own blood slipping through your fingers.

Just like the love of your life.

“You need to get up.”

A distant voice in the back of your brain, muted by the constant ringing that takes over your ears.

“(y/n), can you hear me? You need to get up.”

Is Tanjiro still with Tengen-sama? They will manage to defeat those demons, you just know it. With the help of Inosuke, Zenitsu and Tengen-sama, Tanjiro will be alright. Who knows, maybe he’ll be a hashira in a week from now, maybe he’ll defeat Muzan Kibutsuji. Oh, what you’d give to hear that boy’s voice one last time, to witness his beaming smile again.

“She’s basically dead, idiot. Get lost so I can finish her.”

Are those hands lifting you off the ground or is your soul evaporating from your body?

“Please stay with me, (y/n). You need to keep on fighting.”

You allow your eyes for the briefest second. When you open them again, you barely miss how Nezuko catapults the upper moon six into a nearby building with full force. No, why would she risk to get hurt, what if that woman hurts her? It seems like you’re moving away from the scene and you’re unable to do anything apart from stretching out your shaky hand.

“No…I can’t…leave….”, you breathe out.

“Why did you risk your life like that? (y/n) you…you could be dead right now.”

That voice, it isn’t inside your head. No, someone is talking to you with an oh too familiar voice in a tone you know so well.

“Tanjiro.”

“I’m here, (y/n). And I promise everything will be alright? I just...don’t do something like that ever again, not even for Nezuko.”

Even though the sheer movement feels like breaking your own neck, you lift up your head enough to make sure this isn’t just a dream.

But his eyes are already set on you, filled with nothing but worry and threat while he carries you over the battlefield.

For a moment, time stands still. Just you and Tanjiro. No battlefield, no injuries, no demons. Just peace, love and Tanjiro.

Love.

“I love you”, you mutter so muted that he almost fails to understand.

You can feel his heartbeat picking up next to your throbbing head, watch how his eyes widen. Oh, how lovely they look in that red light, how easy it is to get lost in their gleam. What a waste of time it was to keep your feelings to yourself when all you were able to do was thinking about him. How lucky you are to feel your body pressed against his one last time.

One last time…

“I…so…tired…”

Desperately, you fight against the urge to close your eyes. You need to take this sight in for a little longer, need to stay awake at least for another minute. But your vision slowly but surely starts to get darker and darker until you can’t see him anymore.

“(y/n), don’t give up on me, not when I didn’t told you that-“

Nothingness.

-a week later-

“You should really start focus on getting back on your feet yourself, you know? It won’t help her if you don’t get better too”, the Kakushi next to him speaks out.

Since the moment he opened his eyes and realized that you aren’t awake, Tanjiro didn’t allow himself to leave your side. The last time he did that was at the entertainment district. The last time he did that you almost lost your precious life over defending his sister.

“I will stay just a little longer”, he mumbles lost in thoughts.

You always loved Nezuko dearly despite being a demon. Even though your logical thinking and composed acting, you accepted her as the human she was before and supported him in finding a cure for his sister. Still…

He runs his fingers through his hair roughly, frustration almost taking over him. Tanjiro never expected you to almost sacrifice your precious life for his sister. Not when she’s fighting against a demon, not when two upper moons are your opponents. No one would have doubted you, would have judged you for staying in safety. Nezuko would have never allowed you to interfere if she could, just like him.

“I should have arrived sooner. I should have been right by her side all the time. Maybe none of this would have happened if I kept an eye on her like I promised…”

“Don’t be a fool, she would have never allowed you to stay by her side knowing that it might cost the success of the mission. Still, I didn’t expect someone like her to act so reckless. Who’s your sister doing?”, the man opposite of Tanjiro replies.

“She’s been crying the whole time.”

“Did she finally wake up?”, Inosuke suddenly blurts out while entering the room on his own.

“She’s still unconscious”, Tanjiro explains briefly.

“Did you put that horrible bandage around her head? Before you came here, it looked alright”, the Kakushi interferes dryly.

“With the power of master Inosuke, (y/n) will be back on her feet in no time!”

“H…Hello?”

When your eyes flutter open, you get greeted by 3 pairs of excited eyes in an instant, your clouded mind still unable to process that you’re awake.

“Where am I?”, you croak with your throat feeling like sandpaper.

“I will call Shinobu-sama right away”, the Kakushi announces and gets up with a swift motion.

“You’re at the butterfly estate, dumbass”, Inosuke barks at you.

“(y/n)….I was so worried about you!”

Before you’re able to react any further, you find yourself emerged by green and black fabric, surrounded by a scent you know so well by now.

“Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Over and over, you whimper his name like a prayer in order to convince yourself that this is real. You didn’t die. You are still alive. And right now, none other than Tanjiro Kamado holds you in his arms as tenderly as you always imagined. Is it a dream, maybe? A sweet hallucination to get you through the immense pain?

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. All of this, only to stand up for my sister. Words can’t express how worried I was. How is it possible that this made me realize how much I-“

“You’re finally awake, how relieving. Would you mind moving to the side so that I’m able to examine (y/n), Tanjiro-san?”

That voice as sweet as honey belongs to Shinobu Kocho, without any doubt.

“S-Sure.”

“You really fought well, (y/n). Surviving that long with such severe injuries took its toll on your body, though. All of this because you wanted to protect Tanjiro’s sister?”

Her skilled hands begin roaming around your skin while you feel her gaze fixated on you. But you cannot look at Shinobu-san right now. No, your eyes are locked with those of Tanjiro next to you.

“They both mean the world to me”, you murmur.

He lets out his breath visibly while taking a step towards you. What is that glimmer in his eyes? Sorrow, dread?

Or maybe affection?

“How unusual for you to act this reckless. But maybe this is what love makes us do, right? I will leave you two alone for now. How about you’re taking a look outside? The sunset looks lovely today. But please use a wheelchair since your leg is still shattered.”

With a last bright smile, the insect pillar is gone in the wind again, leaving you alone with Tanjiro in a suddenly so tensed room.

“What do you think?  Do you want to watch the sunset with me?”, Tanjiro questions with low voice.

“I would love to.”

As careful as ever, he lifts you off the bed and places you into the wheelchair before gently guiding you outside.

Your eyes get greeted by the prettiest red you’ve ever seen covering the whole sky. Like a painting, the beautiful scenery lays itself in front of your eyes. Shinobu-san’s flowers painted in the colors of the sky, the fluffy clouds that look so comfortable from afar.

But what mesmerizes you way more than that is the striking sight next to you, the boy you loved in silence since you first saw him. With his face lit by the downgoing sun and the ever so slight blush that creeps up his face while looking at you, you can’t help but get lost.

“Maybe I needed this”, he speaks out.

You blink a few times, still tired mind trying to process the meaning of his words.

“What?”

There is it. His usual beaming smile, the optimistic glimmer inside his gorgeous orbs. Careful not to hurt you he grabs your hand and gently strokes it while kneeling down next to you. Is this really happening? Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, reminds you urgently that you are definitely still alive. Why would Tanjiro Kamado get onto his knees for you?

“You.”

An answer so simple and yet so intimate that you can’t help but blush as well. Like in slow motion, you watch as he draws closer and closer until his face is only inches away from yours.

“I love you, (y/n). I guess I was too dumb to realize it until I saw you injured like that because you protected my sister. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The words leave your mouth just in time before he places his soft lips onto yours, making all your dreams come true with one innocent kiss.

You always acted well-thought and composed. But oh, what a plot twist it was to follow your heart twice in a row.

-bonus-

“Did…Shinobu-san put this around my head?”, you question while staring blankly at your messy hair and the wild bandadge around your head.

“The insect girl? Of course it was me! You wouldn’t even be awake if it wasn’t for me! But don’t worry, you can worship me later”, Inosuke replies while stretching out his chest in full proud.

“You look…”

“Well…”

“I mean…”

None of the three girls dare to raise their voices at him whereas you stare yourself up and down. Of course, it was Inosuke. Shinobu-san would never stitch you up like that.

“Do you want…Kanao to fix this?”, one of them finally suggests quietly.

“Yeah….I guess that would be pretty nice.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu

[peachdues]

Tell Me to Stop: Part 2 (NSFW Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Ice Pillar)

A/N: oh man, it’s here. This took a lot out of me, so I hope that you all like it.

Part One can be found here: post-Mugen AU where Kyojuro lives; events take place post-Entertainment District.

Multiple POVs (Y/N, Shinobu, and Kyojuro). There are several flashbacks, which are in all italics and separated from the main text.

Massive TW: trauma/PTSD, anger, nightmares, descriptions of corpses, violence and violence between characters (shoving, grabbing/shaking). One character triggers another and it’s dubious whether it’s intentional or not.

CW: 16.7k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), creampies, cursing, light scar worship, intimacy, angst.

For the song that inspired this, listen here.

Without further ado!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N began her rehabilitation training within one week of awakening from her coma.

For those seven days of rest, Y/N had fielded all sorts of visitors — the Master, escorted by his two daughters; the Love Pillar, who had wasted no time throwing her arms around Y/N’s shoulders and sobbing in relief; and three of the Mansion’s youngest girls, all of whom crawled up on her bed and cried while hugging her.

Uzui had sent her a note by crow telling her he would be by to see her as soon as his wives finished making her favorite treat — red bean mochi — and said they could compare battle wounds in celebration of their feat.

Y/N had neither seen nor heard as much of a whisper from the Flame Pillar.

The Ice Pillar resolved to distract herself from the glaring absence of the man who embodied fire, though every day that passed without word from him only seemed to make that absence more pronounced.

Y/N had thrown herself into her rehabilitation training, as supervised by Shinobu. Because she was a Hashira, her recovery was vastly different from that of lower-ranked slayers, and she worked with the Insect Pillar directly, rather than with the haughty Aoi and other younger Mansion girls.

That particular morning, the Love Pillar had joined them in an effort to recuperate Y/N’s loss of flexibility as the result of the nearly two months she’d spent sedentary. Y/N cherished the one-on-one time she had with the other two women Hashira; the three of them had formed a tight bond with one another since ascending as Pillars, united amidst the predominance of male demon slayers.  

“Good! Now just bend this way-“ Mitsuri Kanroji kept a steady hand at the small of Y/N’s back as Y/N arched over backward, teeth grinding as her stiff spine resisted her movement.

“Almost there! Just touch your other hand to the floor and hold it!” The Love Hashira said encouragingly.

Y/N stretched her left arm over her head as hard as she could. Her fingers had just graced the wooden grain of the training room floor when her body seized, and her legs gave out from under her.

“Oh!” Mitsuri caught Y/N effortlessly before she could crumple to the floor, gently helping her to sit while blushing at the stream of colorful curses that poured from the Ice Pillar’s mouth.  

“This damn wound,” Y/N moaned, her hand pressing against the angry red mark that curved from below her belly button to her right hip. “You would think it would have healed by now.”

Shinobu frowned as she crouched next to the Ice Pillar, fingers lightly prodding at the scar left behind by Upper Moon Six. “It has healed; if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t have scarred already.” Shinobu pursed her lips. “Though, I suppose it could just be a residual effect of the Upper Rank’s blood demon art – after all, it was no ordinary blade that he pierced you with, was it?”

Y/N shook her head, though she tried to suppress the memory of the demon’s cursed flesh blade ramming through her back and into her stomach. “The blade was his conduit for his blood demon art – but I think it was made from him.”

“How often does it hurt, Y/N?” Mitsuri asked, rubbing soothing circles on her friend’s upper back. Mitsuri was one of the few people Y/N knew who preferred to give physical comfort, and Y/N was grateful for it.

Y/N furrowed her brows in thought. “In a way, there’s always just this dull ache I feel, though it becomes sharper whenever I move a particular way.” Y/N pulled at the band of her uniform bottoms in discomfort. “And, it doesn’t help that these damn pants chafe and rub against it. I’ve even foregone the belt, and it still feels like they’re cutting into me.”

Mitsuri hummed in thought. “Have you considered one of the uniform skirts? They sit a little higher on the waist, so they’re less likely to aggravate it.”

Y/N scowled. “I would rather be stabbed by Upper Six again than request a skirt from that pervert tailor,” she said severely, “Sorry,” she added when she saw the Love Pillar flush with embarrassment.

“Lecherous Corps tailors aside, you may have a good point, Mitsuri.” Shinobu said, eyeing Y/N’s uniform pants in thought. “Y/N, do you mind if I brainstorm some designs for you? I can’t promise whatever I come up with will be suitable for public appearances or assignments, but I might be able to come up with something that will at least keep you comfortable while you heal and build back your strength.”

Y/N smiled as she stretched her legs out, bringing herself into a pose meant to flex her hips. “I’d be grateful for anything you could do, Shinobu.”

The Insect Pillar nodded. “Mitsuri, you know how to sew quite well, do you not? I’m afraid my proficiency with the needle is limited to sewing up wounds.”

The pinkette glowed with enthusiasm. “Yes! I have an entire room dedicated to sewing at my Estate – if you bring by your designs, I’m sure I could put something together!”

Shinobu smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll see what I can come up with tonight, and I’ll bring it by in the morning.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the dedication her two friends showed towards her comfort and recovery. “Thank you both, from the bottom of my heart.”

Shinobu’s smile turned wicked. “Don’t thank us yet, Y/N. You have agility training next.”

Y/N groaned and pulled on her uniform top, buttoning it over her bindings. As a Hashira, agility training meant that she was to meet the Wind Pillar outside of Kocho’s estate where she would endure two hours of having to dodge his relentless attacks. Y/N got along just fine with Shinazugawa – he’d even welcomed her back, and gruffly complimented her work in the Entertainment District – but that did not mean he eased up in his ruthless training.  

By the time the Wind Pillar had dismissed her with a satisfied nod, Y/N had all but limped back to her room, wondering whether she could even summon the strength to bathe after such an arduous day. She almost decided against it, but when her newest scar began to pulse and throb once more, she knew nothing else would soothe it better than the hot water in Kocho’s private hot spring.

Y/N greeted the bowing Kakushi who guarded the entrance to the northernmost wing of the Butterfly Mansion’s hospital as she passed by, and she hoped that Aoi had remembered to restock her room with fresh towels so she could go straight to her bath from her room.

She drew short at the sight of a familiar figure which stood outside of Kocho’s office, leaning against the wall of the small hallway.

“Rengoku!” Y/N was startled, taking a step back in surprise at the sight of the Flame Pillar.

“Y/L/N.” The man who reminded her of the sun nodded in greeting, but his familiar, sunny disposition was noticeably absent, his face impassive and his voice detached.

“I am happy to see you in good health.” Rengoku spoke with unnatural formality; he’d never used that cold, detached manner of speaking to her, not once since she’d caught him staring at her right before the commencement of Final Selection all those years ago.

--------------------------------------------------------

“Ice Pillar Y/L/N!” His sunny voice boomed, and Y/N groaned. She’d just gotten her migraine to calm down.

“Rengoku,” she nodded politely, as her comrade came to stand beside her, all smiles and warmth. 

“It’s been a while, Y/L/N! I was beginning to forget what you look like when you roll your eyes at me.” He laughed, and Y/N scowled.

“Perhaps I’ll pay to have my photograph taken, Rengoku. That way, you can carry it with you wherever you go.”

Rengoku turned to her, an eyebrow raised in surprise at her willingness to engage with his banter so quickly. “If that’s the case, Y/N, I’d prefer to have one of you smiling. It would do well to keep me warm on those cold nights away from home.”

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“I heard you were called away on another mission— some train?” Y/N asked him as they strolled through the Master’s garden following their meeting.

“Yes, we’ve unfortunately lost a number of slayers. Perhaps it’s an upper rank!” The Flame Pillar responded jovially, but he stopped in front of Y/N when he saw her frown.

“What is it?” His voice was gentle, and Y/N shook her head, focusing her eyes on the blooming wisteria saplings that had been planted.

A warm finger curled under her chin and tilted her face up until her eyes clashed with pools of golden ore. “My dear Ice Pillar, are you worried for me?” He was smirking, and his thumb lightly caressed the underside of her jaw.

Y/N gingerly took his hand and removed it from her face, though she did not let it go right away. “You are the Flame Hashira, Rengoku. If anyone is capable of defeating an Upper Rank, it most certainly is you.” 

Rengoku smiled broadly at her, his hand nearly grazing her own. “For someone whose prowess lies in ice breathing, Y/L/N, you sure know how to start fires.”

Under any other circumstance, she would have changed the subject, or not said anything at all. But Y/N couldn’t help her sudden desire to flirt back, just to see if she could knock him off his feet as he so often tried to do to her.

“Yours is the only one I’m interested in stoking, Rengoku.” She said sweetly.

She’d laughed at the Flame Pillar’s beet-red face for the rest of the day.

------------------------------------------------------

“And I, you.” Y/N responded, her eyes still wide with surprise as she came to a stop before him, maintaining a cautious distance between them.

A pregnant pause followed, and Y/N made to speak once more, but she was cut off by another deep throb from the wound on her lower abdomen, her hand unconsciously flying to press against it as she swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave her.   

“You’re in pain.” It wasn’t a question.

Y/N shrugged in a feeble attempt at nonchalance. “I suppose it’s to be expected for a while yet. At least until I recover.”

Rengoku said nothing, and the silence felt suffocating.

“Would you-“ Y/N hesitated, and inwardly she’d never felt more embarrassed, or more uncertain than she did then as she stood before the uncharacteristically stoic Flame Pillar. “Would you like to sit down?”

Rengoku’s face remained impassive, and he turned away from her, dismissively.

“I cannot. I came only to retrieve a salve from Kocho.” His voice was just as cold, just as unfamiliar as the rest of him had been.

“Rengoku, is everything all right?” She stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder but was alarmed at how quickly he flinched away from her as if her touch could burn him.

“Everything is fine, Y/L/N. I need to be on my way.” Rengoku’s voice was flat, monotone, and wholly foreign to her.

“I’m sorry for not thanking you sooner — for everything you did to help me that night.” Y/N blurted, and to her relief, Rengoku froze mid-step, though he did not turn towards her. “I owe you my life.”

She did not miss the way Rengoku’s fists clenched at his side. “You owe me nothing. I would have done the same for any other comrade.” He replied, voice tight. “I must get going now. Farewell, Y/L/N.

She was so stunned that she’d not bidden him farewell back. Rather, she’d stood helplessly in her doorway, even long after the edge of his haori had disappeared around the corner of the Butterfly Mansion’s hall.

He had not looked at her once.

-------------------------------------------------------

(Kyojuro’s POV)

Kyojuro’s fists remained clenched the entire journey back to his estate.

He felt disgusted with himself. He felt like a coward.

It had nearly knocked him to his knees to see Y/L/N up and standing and talking because for so long, he had feared he would never again see the way she crinkled her nose when she laughed, or how she tucked that one loose strand of hair behind her ear whenever she was concentrating — the one that never stayed put in her braid.

But he had not been able to meet her eyes; couldn’t bear to bring himself to try, because he had been terrified of what he would see.

-------------------------------------------------------

Every night for the last two months, he has dreamed of her.

They were not pretty dreams, not like those he had before when he’d wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she laughed, the two of them living in a monster-free world and at peace.

Now, he dreamt of vacant eyes-tinged blue, unseeing and unblinking and frozen, just like the rest of her. He dreams of iced skin and blood and poison pouring from her mouth and her nose until she chokes, her chest rising once with a final rattle before it falls still.

He dreams of Upper Three, smiling deviously as he aims his fist to deal his final blow, and Kyojuro wrenches his blade down, desperate to finally win.

Only, his blade decapitates Y/N, not the Upper Rank demon and he is helpless to watch her head bounce pathetically to the ground. His hands are covered in her blood, and instead of disintegrating, her body falls uselessly to the side. Human.

As quickly as he kills her, the dream changes. He is in a lively street, filled to the brim with street vendors and women and men offering their services. It is night but the lights of the shops and gambling dens and pleasure houses are so bright that it looks like daytime.

He recognizes her by the back of her haori, and his feet move towards her, relieved to see her amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, her name whispering on his lips. But she turns before he can make contact, and though she looks healthy, her eyes — her eyes are white and unseeing.

I don’t understand, she pleads with him, it doesn’t make sense.

Kyojuro looks around in alarm and they are no longer standing amongst eager entertainment seekers, but among flame and wreckage, the once-ornately decorated stalls now smashed to splinters as fire slowly consumes the skeletal remains of the entertainment district.

He turns back to her right as a blade pierces through her gut, lifting her from the ground before letting her drop.

His hands shake as he reaches for her, desperate to check her wounds, but when she looks up at him, he stumbles back.

She is all wrong. Her skin is mottled and rotting from her face, and her hair is gray and matted. In place of her eyes are black holes, empty and cold.

Why can’t I come with you? Why can’t I go home, Kyojuro?

Please take me home.

Every night for the last two months, he awoke screaming.

------------------------------------------------------

Y/L/N was alive; he knew that. He knew that if he looked at her, he would not see a corpse; but terrifying visuals aside, Kyojuro had not been able to look at her because he knew what his nightmares were telling him.

He’d been responsible for her near death.

If the Kakushi had returned with a box rather than a Pillar, it would have been his fault.

The thought that Y/L/N — his Y/L/N -- had almost obtained her own headstone in the Master’s graveyard had rocked him to his very core, for that had almost become a reality. She had actually died – for the briefest moment – in his arms; and it had been his fault.

Why can't I go home, Kyojuro?

And though Y/N had awoken from her slumber, her corpse still haunted Kyojuro’s dreams.

--------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N was sprawled on her infirmary floor, preparing her limbs for another day of rigorous recuperation training at the hands of her fellow Hashira.

She stood to stretch her arms and lower back, wincing slightly at the pull of her scar. “Don’t you start,” she warned her body, willing total concentration breathing to dull the persistent ache that threatened to derail her entire day.

Y/N sensed movement near her doorway and knew, without looking, who watched her as she warmed up her aching muscles.

“Uzui retired. It’s time for you to do the same.”

Y/N who had been in mid-stretch, righted herself and blinked at the Flame Pillar. “Pardon?” Both the news of Uzui’s retirement and Rengoku’s words were a shock to her.

“Retire, Y/LN.” Rengoku repeated in that detached manner of his that she hardly recognized. “You helped take down an Upper Rank. You’ve done enough. Let someone else shoulder the burden, now.”

“I see no reason to retire, Rengoku.” Y/N retorted, voice hardening. “And unless and until the Master requests it or I perish, I see no reason to do so.”

Rengoku exhaled harshly through his nose. “You were injured — seriously so.”

“As were you, and yet you seem to have no intention of slowing down.” Y/N said, coolly.

Rengoku’s attention stayed fixed on the garden outside her window. “And I was only unconscious for three weeks. You were out for nearly two months, Y/L/N. That is unheard of and frankly, unacceptable for a Hashira.”

“What is your problem?” Y/N was growing more irritated the longer this inane conversation dragged on, and it wasn’t helping that Rengoku still refused to so much as look her direction, let alone meet her eyes. “Is this about what happened after you brought me here? Kocho told me everything — I’m not mad.”

Rengoku’s shoulders tensed. “It was necessary. Again, I would have done it for any one of my comrades.”

Y/N felt like she’d been slapped.

“You keep saying that, yet you won’t look at me— why?” Her confusion and hurt were beginning to melt into anger. “If I am just another comrade, then you should be able to meet my eyes.”

Rengoku said nothing.

“What Uzui did for me— that was what comrades do,” Y/N continued, her voice growing stronger as her blood grew hotter. “But you? You and I both know you were under no obligation to bring me back from the brink of death the way you did.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Y/L/N,” Rengoku answered after a long moment.

Y/N took a step towards him. “I want to know why.”

“It was necessary.”

Y/N felt like throttling him.

How long had they danced around each other? How many times had they caught themselves staring at the other for a breath longer than normal, had allowed an otherwise friendly touch during a spar linger?

How could he have held her, half nude for hours, putting himself on the brink of death all for the sake of keeping her alive — and then tell her she was the same as any other comrade?

“What are we doing Rengoku -- is this to be our destiny?” Y/N demanded, exasperatedly, her voice hard. “We continue to pretend like we don’t care about one another until one of us dies?”

Rengoku remained silent, back still turned away from her.

“We’ve each had a near-death experience in a matter of months,” Y/N continued, throat working hard to keep her voice steady despite the telling burn of angry tears in her eyes. “By all accounts, one if not both of us should be dead.”

“And yet, somehow, you expect me to act as though the fact you carried me back here— that you put yourself on death’s door to keep my heart beating — doesn’t mean anything?”

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense for him to fight so hard for her, to make her believe that someone valued her life that much, only to cast her aside.

She hadn’t wanted to wake up, initially; she’d felt relief for the hair’s breadth she’d thought she’d finally met her end. He was the one who dragged her back, and now he wouldn’t even look at her.

It didn’t make sense.

Y/N’s fists shook beside her, and she felt the venomous words fly from her mouth before she could stop them.

“You should’ve let me die.”

No sooner had she let the poison drip from her mouth had she felt herself flying backward, back slamming against the nearest wall of her temporary room.

“Never,” Rengoku snarled at her, his arm pressing firmly against her shoulders to hold her in place against the wood. “Never say those words to me again.”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she trembled beneath him, her fury threatening to explode out of her.

“There is no place on this earth where you could be in peril and I would not find you,” he said quietly, his eyes a simmering, fiery orange. “Where I wouldn’t find a way to bring you back home.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Y/N said softly, breath still coming hard from her nose but no longer from her anger.

“Doesn’t it?” Rengoku was close, dangerously close.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to lean in, to close the distance that barely existed between Rengoku’s face and hers and finally be done with all the nonsense. But he had spent so much time avoiding her gaze until that moment, and Y/N felt more lost than ever, set adrift by the look of heat and longing that was mixed with the burning rage in his eyes.

Something tugged incessantly at her gut and it would not allow her to move from her place against her recovery room’s wall.

Instead, her arms came up to rest against Rengoku’s chest before gently, but firmly, pushing him away.

“No, it doesn’t.” She repeated. “And I am tired, Rengoku.”

The Flame Pillar allowed himself to be pushed away, but he looked at her with a small, cruel smile.

“Then you’re right; it doesn’t mean anything at all.”

She flinched against the ugly slap of his words. Y/N had expected him to hit back, but she hadn’t anticipated his venom to sting as much as it did.

She felt all of the fight within her gutter out, leaving her with nothing but a heavy weight in her chest that she wished she couldn’t feel.

“Y/L/N, I-“ the Flame Pillar almost sounded remorseful.

“Thank you, for your clarification, Lord Rengoku,” she said numbly, formally, parroting his earlier tone with her. “And thank you for your assistance that night. Please, next time — don’t trouble yourself.”

Rengoku hesitated for a moment, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach for her. He swallowed hard, and turned away, shutting the door to Y/N’s infirmary.

The moment the door at clicked shut, Y/N exhaled harshly, stumbling back against her bed as she hugged her arms around herself, and she tried to keep herself from falling apart.

It shouldn’t have hurt this bad. They were both in the Demon Slayer Corps; they saved strangers all the time without it ever meaning anything other than good will and a desire to exterminate all demons.

So why did his insistence that she was no different hurt so badly?

Because she wasn’t a stranger.

Because, while she’d always known she wasn’t his, she’d still thought she’d been something.

As Y/N curled against her blanket, an unsettling numbness began to spread from her heart, quieting even the dull ache from the scar across her belly, Y/N realized that she’d meant nothing to the Flame Pillar all along.

-------------------------------------------------------

(Kyojuro’s POV)

He hated himself.

He utterly and truly despised himself.

He’d been hurt by her insistence that she did not know his feelings even though he was the one who’d opened the door, yet somehow, it still felt like a rejection.

So he’d hit back, only for her to visibly recoil at the sharp blow of his words.

He would not forgive himself, for as long as he lived, for the way the light in her eyes had winked out.

He did not know what bothered him more: the fact that she’d assumed that he regretted keeping her alive, or that she’d said “next time” he needn’t bother. As though she were counting on there being a next time.

He knew he should turn around; knew that he should barge back into her hospital room, drop to his knees, and beg her to forgive his cruelty.

He knew that he should explain to her why he found it so difficult to admit his feelings for her — that he had watched his father turn into a shell of a man and abandon his children in the wake of their mother’s death, leaving them to raise themselves. That he had vowed, as he’d watched his father drink his days away, that he would never be like him, would never abandon those who relied on him most.

He’d promised that he would never be a coward, even if, in all honesty, the idea that he, Kyojuro, could ever love someone that fiercely only to have them ripped from his grasp terrified him to no end.

As he forced his legs to carry him to back to his estate, Kyojuro wondered if perhaps, in his desperation not to turn into his father, he’d become the old man after all.

--------------------------------------------------------

(Shinobu’s POV)

Shinobu felt the Flame Pillar’s presence in her office before she saw him, though she was in no rush to give him his salve, especially not after what she’d overheard him spit at her friend.

“If you do not mind, I would like to send my crow to collect this from here on,” Rengoku said tightly, and Shinobu could sense his failing attempt to keep his fury in check.

“Very well then,” the Insect Pillar responded just as tersely, turning away from the papers and books on her desk to pull out the small tin containing the salve the Flame Pillar used to soothe the ache of the scar he now bore across his pectoral and shoulder. Rather than handing it to him, she tossed it through the air, the Flame Hashira catching it swiftly in his hand.

Rengoku nodded his thanks and turned to leave.

“I didn’t realize it was against Corps’ rules to care about our comrades,” Shinobu said icily, if not to signal to him that there had been spectators to his ugly outburst.

He couldn’t resist taking her bait. “Maybe it should be. It would be easier that way — for everyone.”

“Is that so?” Kocho sneered, no hint of familiarity or kindness in her features; nothing but that poisonous, deadly smile. “Well, if that was the case, then you would’ve preferred Uzui to leave Y/L/N for dead among the rubble in Yoshiwara, correct?

“You would rather us be searching to fill the newest Hashira vacancy, with her corpse barely cold in the ground-“

“Do not say another word, Kocho.” Rengoku warned, quietly.

But for Shinobu, anger was her vice, and so his warning only spurred her on.

“Tell me, Rengoku, if the new Pillar had been a woman, would you have held her the way you held Y/N?”

Shinobu’s smile was chilling as she relished the way the Flame Pillar began to tremble. “Or perhaps, would you finally confess to her, having learned your lesson from the missed opportunity with Y/N? Would you live out your days with her, while Y/N rotted below the earth, having never known someone loved her?”

“ENOUGH.” Rengoku roared, and for a moment, Shinobu thought the Flame Pillar might put his clenched fist through her wall. The silence that followed was tense and long as Rengoku struggled to calm his breathing.

“What do you want from me, Kocho?” Rengoku finally snapped, wheeling around to glower at the Insect Pillar, eyes half-crazed in his frustration.

------------------------------------------------------

(Two months earlier)

Dawn was still far off, but the hall of her estate was a mess.

Shinobu knew that at any moment, another group of Kakushi would be coming through the hole Rengoku had left in her wall bearing the unconscious body of the Sound Pillar, and if they did so, they’d be stumbling upon the chaotic scene that had unfolded before.

Rengoku was still on the floor, legs on either side of Y/N, who was slumped against his chest and fully exposed from the waist up.

With some satisfaction, Shinobu noted that the dark purple bruising around Y/N’s chest was clearing, a sure sign that she had chosen the correct antidote for the Flame Hashira to slam into her heart.

But her hypothermia persisted.

Rengoku, on the other hand, was beginning to breathe rather loudly, no doubt as he continued to maintain his high fever for the sake of the unmoving woman braced between his thighs.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu crouched down next to the Flame Pillar, her hand coming to a rest on his shoulder, which burned beneath her palm. “Rengoku, we need to move.”

The man lifted his head up to meet her eyes, his own glassy and unfocused. Shinobu clamped down on the swear building on her tongue — he had fever fog.

Rengoku grunted at her before his head slumped back down, chin nearly touching his chest.

Shinobu tried again. “Rengoku, we are in the open hallway of the Butterfly Mansion. Others will be arriving soon. Y/N is completed exposed.”

That seemed to get his attention. Rengoku’s head lifted, his eyes narrowed slits, but nonetheless open. He grunted in some sort of acknowledgement and began to shift Y/N in his lap.

He turned the unconscious Ice Pillar so that her back rested against one arm that curled around her bare waist. His free arm slid to grip beneath her knees, shifting her into a bridal-style position to carry her.

Two of the Butterfly Mansion’s staff moved to help him stand, but Rengoku shrugged them off, surprising Shinobu as he managed to rise steadily to his feet, Y/N secured against his chest.

He looked at Shinobu expectantly and she began ushering him towards a secluded wing of the Manor, towards her private hall. Across from her personal office was a special infirmary room, walled off from the rest of the recovery ward.

Shinobu withdrew a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked the heavy, wooden door.

“You two can stay in here until her body temperature returns to normal,” She said, as Rengoku made his way towards the recovery bed.

Shinobu watched as Rengoku, still wearing his zori and uniform pants, ever so gently lowered himself and Y/N down on the bed, repeating his earlier positioning of her between his thighs. He propped up one leg slightly to keep the Ice Pillar from slumping over, her back pressed to his bare chest. Rengoku leaned against the headboard so that Y/N’s head could rest against his clavicle, though it slumped instead towards her left shoulder.

Shinobu made to grab a blanket to throw over the two topless Hashira but stopped short as Rengoku made to move again.

He seemed to realize that Y/N, while also still in her torn uniform pants and zori, was still bare from the waist up, her body positioned towards the door. He frowned, his hand coming up to graze the side of her arm. He flinched slightly, no doubt at the persistent chill that lingered on her skin, and he moved both of his large hands down over the back of hers as they lay limply on either side of her thighs, intertwining their fingers.

Awestruck, Shinobu watched as Rengoku brought Y/N’s arms up to cross them over her chest, locking them in place by covering her arms with his own, as though wrapping her in a sweet embrace. Shinobu knew that he’d done so to avoid touching her bare breasts himself, or at least to do so as minimally as possible, while still providing her cover. And, due to the breadth of Rengoku’s muscled forearms, Y/N’s sensitive area was almost entirely obscured from view.

Rengoku had barely been clinging to consciousness himself, and once she was sufficiently hidden in his arms, his head dropped forward until his forehead came to a rest on Y/N’s shoulder, opposite of where she’d rolled her head.

To the unassuming eye, it would have appeared as though the pair of Hashira were simply engaged in an intimate moment, rather than one desperately trying to anchor the other to life.

Shinobu moved to place the blanket over the Pillars’ laps, before quietly exiting the private room.

“Seal this wing off entirely,” she murmured to Aoi, who had been waiting dutifully outside. “No one comes down here without my explicit permission.”

Aoi bowed to her before she ushered the other Kakushi out. Faintly, Shinobu heard the arriving shouts of the group bearing the Sound Pillar. She took a single deep breath, steeling herself once more, before moving to check on her incoming patient.

-------------------------------------------------------

Shinobu raised her chin, looking down her nose at him in disgust. “I’m waiting for the man who would have set the world ablaze to save Y/N to reappear.”

She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m waiting for the man who used his own body as her lifeline, and who tried to smash open the infirmary door when he was delirious with fever because he thought that she had died while he was asleep.”

The Insect Pillar’s masked smile finally slipped from her face and her true rage towards the Flame Pillar shone through. “It is cruel to make her feel as though she’s done something wrong,” Shinobu’s arms folded across her chest. “And it is cruel to you both for you to pretend as though she does not mean anything to you. Haven’t you both been through enough? Are you not exhausted as well?”

A tortured look passed over Rengoku’s face. “It is better this way, Kocho. I do not want to be the cause of her pain, and I cannot survive going through what happened to her again.

“For all your talk about either of you dying, I’ve yet to hear you mention the equal alternative,” Shinobu sighed, gathering her papers and books. “The one where we win and you both live. What do you suppose happens then?”

Rengoku said nothing and so, Shinobu continued. “Suppose we emerge victorious – would you truly prefer for you and Y/N to go your separate ways – to never see one another again, or never acknowledge the bond the two of you share?”

“There is no guarantee that either of us survives, Kocho,” Rengoku said quietly, his eyes falling to his feet.

Shinobu smiled but it was no longer cruel or bitter; it was wistful. “And there is no guarantee that either of you die. That’s the fickle nature of humanity, is it not? The very reason we fight?”

The Insect Pillar gathered her papers and stacked them neatly on her shelf. “For the possibilities of it all.”

--------------------------------------------------------

The sun was high in the sky by the time Shinobu had a moment to check on the two unconscious pillars in the back room.

Uzui had required quite a bit of attention in order to stop the poison from becoming deadly, though the fact that her combination of the wisteria antidote with the amphetamine had been so effective on Y/N meant that Shinobu was able to administer the same to the Sound Pillar in half the time.

She was exhausted; the strain of the night’s events weighed heavily on her, but she had to check on Y/N’s temperature — if the Ice Pillar still had not recovered, she feared that hope was lost.

She pushed the door to the private infirmary room open and saw the two Hashira, still in the same position she’d left them in. Rengoku was deeply asleep, no doubt from the exhaustion wrought by his high fever.

Enclosed within his arms, Y/N remained unconscious but pink.

Shinobu felt the relief course through her, but she did not allow herself to relax until she reached out a hand to lightly pinch the Ice Pillar’s cheek.

It bloomed red beneath her fingers, and it was warm to the touch.

He’d done it. The Flame Pillar had staved off her hypothermia. Their only obstacle now lay in getting her to reawaken.

Shinobu laid her hand across Rengoku’s forehead, frowning at the scorching heat of his brow; his fever had worsened more than she’d anticipated, and he would need intervention soon. She turned to nod at the Kakushi who waited by the door to the recovery room, and the three of them moved to separate the Flame and Ice Pillars.

“Put him in one of the other single-recovery rooms. Tell Aoi to administer the fever medication I keep in my cabinet – it should dispel his fever within a few hours.” Shinobu ordered, as the Kakushi, with great effort, lifted the Flame Pillar from his position behind Y/N. Shinobu gently eased her friend down against the bed and pulled a blanket over her exposed torso. “I will also need a fresh hospital gown for Lady Y/L/N.”

The Kakushi nodded their assent and got to work, heaving the unconscious Flame Pillar towards the door when he awoke. At first, his eyes were dazed, and confused as they darted around him, but as he took in his surroundings, he began to struggle against the grip of the Kakushi.

“Please, Lord Rengoku, your fever is dangerously high! Allow us to help!” One of them cried, though his efforts to tug the Pillar away were futile. Shinobu supposed the only reason he had not yet succeeded in completely throwing them off was the fact that his fever had severely weakened him.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sternly, coming around from her position by Y/N to meet his eyes, though he only thrashed harder against the Kakushi as he began to mutter incoherently under his breath. “Rengoku, that’s enough. You’re safe. You’re in the Butterfly Mansion, and you have a high fever. Please, let the Kakushi do their job.”

But the Insect Pillar’s words fell on deaf ears as Rengoku began to hyperventilate, his muscles straining as he tried desperately to break free from the Kakushi’s hold. Shinobu was at a loss; her comrade did not merely look frantic – he looked terrified, desperate, and utterly beyond reproach or reason. His heart rate had spiked considerably, and his breath was jerky and uneven, as though he could not fully understand where he was or that he was amongst friends.

As she strained to make out what the Flame Pillar repeated, over and over, under his breath, Shinobu realized that his eyes were not unfocused at all; they were locked on the unconscious Ice Pillar in the bed behind her.

“I can still save her!” he roared.

It all made sense then.

Shinobu realized that he thought they were moving him not because he’d successfully thwarted her hypothermia, but because he had failed — and that she was now dead.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu said sharply, trying to force the irate and delirious Flame Pillar to meet her eyes. “Rengoku, Y/N is alive. Her body temperature has returned to normal. She is safe.”

But the Flame Pillar seemed not to hear her, as he only struggled harder against the Kakushi desperately trying to usher him out of Y/N’s room.

Rengoku was becoming more violent, even as the Kakushi finally managed to shove him through the doorway of Y/N’s room. Just before they’d managed to slam the door shut, Shinobu caught Aoi’s eye and nodded, the younger girl quickly disappeared into the Pillar’s office.

Shinobu watched in stunned silence as the Flame Pillar broke free from the Kakushi and began hurtling his body against the door, Y/N’s name falling from his lips in an anguished chant.

Rengoku was so delirious in his fevered panic that he did not notice Aoi slip behind him and plunge a syringe into his neck, depositing a thick stream of the clear liquid that Shinobu knew would have a near-instantaneous effect on his consciousness.

The Insect Pillar felt a strange sense of pity and remorse as she watched her friend slump to the floor outside of the infirmary room, a final cry out for the Ice Pillar falling from his lips before the sedative lulled him back to sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------

(Kyojuro’s POV – three days later)

He didn’t know why he’d returned to the Butterfly Mansion.

Kyojuro tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to wait for his crow to return with Kocho’s salve, but he knew it was a pathetic excuse. He’d sworn to himself that he would leave Y/L/N alone after their last argument. He’d vowed that the door between them had been closed for good, and they would only ever be colleagues. Nothing more.

But he couldn’t stay away. Perhaps it was because he’d spent the last few days stewing over their last argument, and somewhere, amidst his endless supply of self-hatred, he’d also grown angry with the Ice Pillar.

Angry, because she had put herself in harm’s way when he’d specifically told her not to.

Angry because she’d nearly died, and she’d threatened to take the last vestiges of his sanity with her to the afterlife.

Angry that she insisted on remaining in the Demon Slayer Corps despite having given more than enough of herself to their cause; angry that she didn’t understand why he couldn’t yet do the same.

Angry because she didn’t seem to understand his feelings at all.

Perhaps in another life, they could have had each other. Had they both been born into a world without demons, then maybe they would have still found each other and maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to love her the way she deserved.

But for Kyojuro, their relationship would always be defined by a series of maybes, and nothing more.

--------------------------------------------------------

It would have been a lie for Kyojuro to say he’d not been struck dumb by her.

She was stretched out on the steps of Kocho’s engawa, legs dangling off the edge of the porch as she leaned back on her elbows, eyes closed dreamily as she kept her face tilted up towards the cooling night air.

Long, lean, bare legs, he realized, an uncomfortable heat creeping up his collar. He couldn’t help running his eyes up their length, fixating hard on the supple curves of her thighs.

Why were her legs bare?

She looked…so unguarded this way. Her haori was draped around her shoulders, one of its sleeves hanging loosely to the side and exposing her bare shoulder – how exposed was she, the idiot – and her hair was completely unbound, falling in a silken river to her waist.

It was a stark contrast to the braided crown she wore at the base of her neck. It hit him that, not counting the night she’d nearly died, he had not otherwise seen her with her hair down.

He liked it. A lot.

“I finally rid myself of one migraine only for another to appear,” Y/N’s lofty voice snapped him out of his reverence, as the Ice Pillar opened her eyes to glare at him. 

“If you’ve come for Shinobu, she is not here. She’s on an errand and will not be back until early morning.” Y/N turned her attention away from him and back towards the garden, her voice stony.

At that moment, there were a million things Kyojuro could have said to the Ice Pillar.  

How are you?

I missed the way you glare at me.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Any of those options would have been far better than what came tumbling out of his mouth.

“I hadn’t realized you were indecent. My apologies.”

Y/N’s head snapped back to him, her eyes chips of ice. “Indecent?” She rose from her seat on the engawa and faced him fully, and Rengoku nearly groaned.

Indecent, indeed.

Y/N was showing more skin than Kanroji did on a regular day. As she stood, Rengoku saw that she was hardly wearing any clothing at all, save for the haori draped loosely around her frame.

The Ice Pillar wore no top but the bindings around her chest, leaving a sizeable swath of her midriff exposed to the summer air. Whatever she wore as bottoms could hardly be labeled as “pants,” given that their hem ended just short of the middle of her thigh, leaving the vast majority of her legs exposed to anyone who would happen to walk by.  

The Flame Pillar felt as though he were overheating, and he tugged uselessly at the collar of his uniform shirt. As he looked over the scowling Ice Pillar, Rengoku found himself unable to remember why he had come to the Mansion at all.  

------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N’s POV)

(Earlier that day)

“Ta-da!” Mitsuri sang as she pulled the small bundle from behind her, a grin wide on her face. “A gift from Shinobu and myself!”

Y/N peered down quizzically at the small, folded bunch of cloth in the Love Pillar’s hands. “What is it?”

“A new take on the Corps’ uniform,” Shinobu replied crisply, sitting down on the tatami floor of her office. “I designed it myself, and Mitsuri sewed it.”

“But what is it?” Y/N pressed.

Mitsuri joined Shinobu on the floor. “Your new training pants. Altered, so that you have more flexibility and less irritation against your wound.”

Y/N held up the tiny scrap of fabric between her index finger and thumb. “Are you telling me these are pants?”

Mitsuri and Shinobu nodded, smiling.

Y/N looked incredulously at the two women. “But where are the pants?”

Mitsuri laughed. “Think of it as a cross between the uniform skirt and pants, but more modified.”

Shinobu nodded. “I used the same material that our uniform is made out of but designed it in a way to be more flexible – it will mold to your body rather than require you to use a belt to keep it up.” Y/N unfurled the cloth and gaped down at it. “They likely aren’t suitable for public, but around here and during your training, they should be perfectly adequate.”

“Perfectly adequate?” Y/N repeated, turning the garment over in her hands. “Shinobu, these are underclothes! Not pants!” The Ice Pillar could not stop herself from giggling. “My legs will be entirely exposed!”

“Try them on!” Mitsuri urged. “Shinobu and I estimated they would hit around mid-thigh, so you’ll still have some coverage.” Mitsuri looked down at her own skirt in consideration. “Slightly more so than I do.”

Y/N groaned but removed her uniform pants and slid into her friends’ gift. She was surprised at how comfortable they felt; they had a similar feel to the chest bindings most of the women in the Corps wore, in terms of fit. The black bottoms had no true waistband, but fit snuggly at the dip of her waist, before hugging her hips and thighs until the hem cut right above the middle of her thigh.

“How do they feel?” Shinobu asked as Y/N inspected the new garment.

Y/N turned from side to side, testing their flexibility. “Good. They don’t seem to rub against the scar at all.” Y/N smiled devilishly at her friends. “Even if they do leave little to the imagination.”

MItsuri giggled. “I hadn’t noticed Y/N, but you have – oh, what did Uzui call it?” She scrunched her eyebrows in thought. “Oh! An ‘easy and deliverable type of butt!’” The three girls laughed, carefree as Y/N wiggled her hips suggestively in front of her friends, her heart warm at the care and consideration they had put into their gift.

------------------------------------------------------

Y/N mused that Mitsuri’s assessment of how she looked in the undershorts had been correct as Rengoku’s eyes raked over her as she stood tall before him, an unmistakable glint of hunger glowing in his amber pools.

Until they snagged on the thick, curved gash that extended from the band of her bottoms to just over her belly button.

In an instant, simmering fire of the Flame Pillar’s gaze had been snuffed out, something harder and colder taking over as he glared at where Upper Moon Six had buried his poisoned sickle within her.

Under any other circumstance, Y/N might have felt self-conscious at the mixture of frigid contempt that pulled on Rengoku’s face as he ran his eyes over her scar, but at that moment, it only made her blood boil.

“You should return to your room. You shouldn’t be out here exposed like this.” Rengoku said after a moment, his eyes moving away from her to stare over her shoulder, resolutely avoiding her gaze.

Y/N wondered briefly if it were possible to make someone combust with the fire of their stare. She was so tired and so angry at the way in which he demanded she stay at arm’s length yet felt utterly entitled to boss her around.

She decided then that she would not comply. Instead, Y/N took one step and then another, and again until she pushed past him, marching intently up the path she knew led away from the Butterfly Estate and to a secluded, grassy, hilled clifftop.

“Stop — Y/L/N” Rengoku growled, lunging after her, but Y/N, despite her injured state, was still faster than he, and she twisted out of his grasp before he could grab her and haul her back to the Mansion.

She probably looked insane, and maybe she was -- barely dressed, hair unbound, and striding towards that grassy hill up the winding path from Shinobu’s estate like she had any idea what she was doing.

The Flame Pillar followed.

—————————————————————--------

Apart from her close friendship with the Insect Pillar, there was another reason Y/N spent so much time in and around the Butterfly Mansion — its view.

Though she supposed this secret area she’d discovered couldn’t really be counted as part of Shinobu’s Estate — it was, after all, up a rather steep and twisting climb from the western-most point of her friend’s manor, and one could scarcely see the lights of the house once they ascended the small cliff.

Her thighs ached after nearly two months of disuse as she stormed up the steep incline, narrowly avoiding the sharp, twisting branches of the ancient trees that had concaved over the beaten path, forming a tunnel of gnarled wood that forced her to duck her head to navigate.

Y/N’s chest tightened as she neared the end of the path, the steady beat of the Flame Pillar’s footsteps trailing closely behind her.

When she finally emerged from the thicket of branches, she felt as though she could breathe again.

The path had given way to a cliff-top clearing. Soft, emerald grass covered the earthen floor, peppered with various wildflowers in vibrant hues of periwinkle, white, and pink. Towards the center was a thick, ancient oak tree, with a trunk as wide as a small hut, Its leaves ruffled lazily in the slight summer breeze. Fat hotaru floated idly above the grass while the crickets hummed.

The clearing extended to a point before dropping into a rocky cliff. Had it been a night of a new moon, Y/N would never risk coming out here for fear of stumbling too close to the cliff’s edge. But that night, the moon was full and its silver light was so bright that Y/N could see all the way to the opposite of the clearing, down to the summer irises swaying in the warm night air.

It was a pity that instead of feeling the warm serenity she normally had when she came out to her little hideaway, she felt nothing but boiling anger and a growing headache.

“You need to go back inside,” Rengoku said from behind her. Y/N ground her teeth, turning sharply on her heel to face him.

“Why do you care — I thought you only did that when I’m unconscious.” She bit back, and it felt good to see him be the one who flinched for once. “Or maybe it’s when you think I’m dying?”

She laughed, derisively. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve long since forgotten the rules of your game. You change them so often, you see.”

“Go back to the Butterfly Mansion, Y/L/N. You shouldn’t be out here. Not in your current state.” He said, voice as hard and unforgiving as stone.

“I’ve told you already that you are not in a position to order me around!” Y/N snapped, her words and her eyes chips of ice as she glared at him.

He was so infuriating — he had told her, in so many ways, that she meant nothing to him, and yet here he was, glowering at her as though her very existence incensed him.

“You’ve been nothing but unkind to me since I awoke, and you’ve given me no explanation!” She took a step towards him.

“Stop,” the Flame Pillar bit out, barely concealing the way he trembled with rage. “Do not take another step. Turn around and go back inside.”

If Y/N had looked pissed before, she looked downright furious now.

“Why did you come to see me while I was unconscious?” Y/N demanded, shaking. “You came every day, yet the second I wake up, you stop?”

His refusal to answer her, to even look at her, only made her seethe.

“You’re a coward, Rengoku.”

Rengoku’s teeth gnashed together, his fists balling tightly by his sides as he drew upon every ounce last shred of sanity, of restraint, left within him.

“Go. In. Side.” He ground out dangerously, his voice dropping into a growl on the last syllable.

But the Ice Pillar took another step towards him, her eyes blazing with a fire that could outburn his own.

“No.”

Rengoku’s jaw flexed. “Y/L/N-“

“I said no, Rengoku.” She was now within arm’s reach of the rigid Flame Pillar.

His eyes met hers, cold and hard, but she did not balk. She went in for the kill. “You have no say over my choices when my life is meaningless to you.”

Y/N watched the blow land, and land hard.

“Meaningless?” Rengoku looked at her and there was a new fire in his gaze, a hot, angry fire that threatened to burn the grassy overlook around them to cinders. “You believe I think your life is meaningless?”

This time, it was Rengoku who advanced towards her, bringing her within an arm’s length, and forcing her to tilt her head up to hold his raging stare.

“Do you have any idea — any at all — what it was like to see you, half dead in Uzui’s arms?” Rengoku’s voice dark, and harsh as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Or what it was like to have to carry you to Kocho, not knowing whether your heart would give out before I could get you there?”

Y/N refused to cower beneath the intensity of his gaze, her chin lifting defiantly. “Do I know what it was like?” She hissed; hackles raised.

“Thank you Rengoku, truly — thank you.” Y/N laughed, but it was devoid of any humor. “I am so glad that you’ve finally given me something to work with — so those are your rules, are they?”  She was toe to toe with the Flame Hashira, glowering down at her.

“Well since we’re keeping score, Rengoku, do you know what it was like to see you broken and bleeding out on Kocho’s table after the incident on the train?”

“That’s not the same thing,” Rengoku shot back bitterly.

“How the fuck is it not-?”

“Because it wasn’t your mission to take!” Rengoku finally broke, his voice rising to a shout. He could not stop himself as his hands shot out and gripped Y/N’s shoulders, shaking her lightly in his torment.

“You have no idea how it felt to know that you had died — no matter how briefly — because you went on a mission in my place!”

“To know that — that you could still die because I had been too weak on that fucking train. Your death would have been my fault, Y/N!”

----------------------------------------------------

(Kyojuro’s POV)

And there it was: the truth that he had tried so hard to suppress, laid flat out in the open.

Everything that had happened to Y/N, the whole entire mess — had been entirely his fault.

His fault because he had been too weak to finish off Upper Moon Three, too weak to do anything but let the demon’s punch a hole through his chest like it was nothing.

Y/L/N and Uzui had saved themselves in the end; they’d completed their mission, defeating not just one, but two upper ranks. They hadn’t succumbed to their injuries until after they’d fulfilled their duties.

But him? He’d only been saved by the grace of the sun and the tireless efforts of the Kakushi.

He’d nearly lost his life and he had nothing to show for it. Rather than do anything to further the Corp’s ultimate goals, he’d only set them back, and nearly cost them something priceless in return — their Ice Pillar.

The woman he loved.

He had no right to love her, of course — not when his reprehensible weakness had forced her to be offered up to two upper moon demons on a silver platter.

She’d been there, the morning he awoke from his three-week-long coma. She’d been right by his bedside, a sob choking from her throat as she’d called for Kocho to come quick!

At first, he’d been confused, because he hadn’t understood why she was crying. He’d tried to reach for her, to wipe the tears spilling down her cheeks when the pain had slammed into him, causing him to seize, arm suspended in mid-air.

Never before had he not been in control of his body; it had sent him into a panic.

“No, Kyojuro, please don’t move!” Y/N had cried, calling him, for the first time, by his given name. a warm hand wrapping around the one he’d stretched out towards her, lowering it gently down to the bed. “Your injuries are too grave!”

He didn’t remember much after that, only what Kocho had filled him in on later — namely, that he’d begun to panic, his breathing flaring out of control as he’d tried to fight off Y/L/N, a Kakushi, and the Insect Pillar.

His recovery had been long and slow. His wounds from the Upper Three demon had resulted in significant muscle damage that had required weeks of intensive care and training in order to build it back up again.

Those long days spent at the Butterfly Mansion had given him time to stew; to rage against himself. He’d been frustrated, so unbelievably frustrated over his inability to swing his own sword for more than five minutes that he almost considered giving in and retiring.

And then Uzui arrived, and he’d mentioned an upcoming mission to the Entertainment District, that they had discussed prior to Kyojuro leaving for the damned train, and the Sound Pillar revealed that his intel suggested the possible presence of an Upper Rank.

Kyojuro had promised to accompany him, and then he’d woken up in Kocho’s hospital, and that mission had been taken off the table and given to her.

The panic he had felt had been indescribable; he had narrowly survived an encounter with an Upper Rank, but then he was forced to watch the woman he loved walk straight into the wolf's den, and he had been incapable of convincing her to stay behind.

While she had been gone, he had railed against and prayed to and cursed at the gods, begging them to bring her home, to let her come back to him alive and whole.

Instead, they’d sent her back as a near-corpse and had laughed at his pitiful attempts to save her.

And then, she had straddled that narrow divide between life and death for nearly two months, and he had been as helpless as a cat chasing a string — his desire forever in sight yet somehow always just beyond his reach.

After his brush with death, he’d made a commitment to himself not to think of his battle with the Upper Three demon, to not waste his skill and energy on the past, but rather focus his fury on ensuring that when they did meet again, he would emerge victorious. He’d certainly not given any thought to the demon’s slime-tongued words.

He’d been disgusted when the demon had propositioned turning him into its like — and outright offended that those creatures could ever compare to the beautiful transience of humanity.

But then he’d cradled Y/N, broken and dying in his arms, and for the first time, Kyojuro had understood the appeal of the Upper Three’s offer.

Because he would rather have lived in a world in which Y/N had been turned into his enemy than in one in which she did not exist at all.

The very thought had shaken him to his core; because it meant he was not fully dedicated to their cause. He had no right to call himself a Hashira; nor did he have any right to claim to love Y/L/N. Not when he’d so easily damn her out of his own selfishness. So he had run.

A coward, after all.

--------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N was panting, her fury rippling off her in near-tangible waves.

“So, this whole thing,” she seethed, her voice shaking. “Your whole fucking attitude — has been because you’ve had your head so far up your ass, that you thought my injuries were your fault?”

It was unbelievable. It was ridiculous. And yet it was so Rengoku that it made her ears ring, made her see red as she tried to keep herself from imploding.

Rengoku said nothing, but she could see the way his eyes shuttered closed, his walls flying back up as he remained intent on keeping her out. He turned and began walking back towards the path back to the Estates.

“I was right — you ARE a coward!” She shrieked after him.

He froze. She stood there, heaving, daring him to turn around, to face her.

“Do not call me a coward again,” he said quietly, his back still to her, but his shoulders tensed, his fists balling once more at his sides.

Y/N smiled ruefully. “Then exactly what would you call what you’re doing now?.” Her lip curled into a sneer. “Run away, Rengoku. It’s what you do best.”

A flash of orange and white clouded her vision as Rengoku turned on his heel and closed the distance between them before she could draw another breath.

Y/N did not have time to react before his hands gripped either side of her jaw as he slammed his mouth down against hers, furious and heated.

It was not gentle; it was an angry clash of lips and teeth, but it also stoked a fire so hot in Y/N’s belly that she did not care, and she fully gave herself over to the bruising press of his lips against hers. She gladly opened up to him so that his tongue could slide into her mouth as one of his hands snaked behind her head to press her harder to him, demanding that she let him take and take until he was sated.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. They broke apart with a gasp, leaping back from one another as though burned. Their chests heaved as they stared at one another.

There was a line drawn in the sand between them. If either of them crossed it, there would be no going back.

He was a coward, but she wasn’t. And she’d grown tired of this tedious dance of theirs.

Yet it surprised her all the same that he reached for her at the same time she moved for him, the two of them colliding like magnets as their mouths clashed together once more.

Rengoku kissed her like he was drowning, and she was his lifeline.

Y/N threw her arms around his neck and tugged him down closer to her, determined to take from him as much as he wanted to take from her.

The pair of them stumbled back against the ancient oak tree that sat back from the grassy cliff, Y/N caged against its bark by the Flame Pillar.

His hands gripped fistfuls of her haori as though he couldn’t decide whether to pull her closer or tug her away. His lips devoured each breathy moan he pulled from her as one hand tangled in her hair and pulled, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

She ran her hands through the fiery strands of his hair, gripping and tugging it as he explored her mouth was his demanding tongue. Y/N, emboldened by the way his fingers dug into her haori, let her hands roam from his hair and to his neck, and then to the rocky planes of his broad chest before settling on his hips as she tugged him flush against her. 

His control was slipping, and fast. “Y/L/N, I can’t- I won’t be able to hold back.” Rengoku moaned into her mouth, his hands scrunching the fabric of her haori, his fingers desperately seeking to hold her closer to him. “Tell me to stop, Y/L/N.”

Y/N’s hands only buried deeper into his hair, tugging him harder against her as she slid her tongue into his waiting mouth.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered against his mouth between breaks for oxygen. “Never stop, Rengoku.”

Y/N pulled back from him, just enough to unlatch his hands from where they were buried in the back of her haori, and moved them inside its folds, right on her bare waist.

The burning weight of his hands felt exquisite.

Rengoku shuddered as he felt the smooth, soft dips of Y/N’s waist, his fingers digging into her flesh as he sought to touch more of her, his hands running across every inch that was not covered by her bindings or those glorious undershorts.

Lips still moving furiously against hers, Rengoku bent slightly to run his hands down the silken expanse of her thighs, gripping under her knees before hoisting her up to carry her away from the tree and lay her down in the velvety grass below.

Y/N felt as though she were on fire. The ache between her legs was almost maddening, and she was desperate to have the Flame Pillar sheathe himself inside her, to make her forget even her own name.

If she could not have his love, she could at least have this.

Her hands dragged down Rengoku’s front, coming to a rest at his belt before she began fumbling with the clasp. Y/N had just managed to undo it when Rengoku’s hands — large, warm, and much stronger than her own, wrapped around her wrists, stilling her.

“Not yet, you impatient woman,” he smirked against her mouth. He moved one wrist to join the other in his left hand before bringing her arms up over her head, pinning her to the ground.

Y/N whimpered and rolled her hips against his, impatient and demanding, wanting desperately to feel some relief as her core clenched wildly around nothing.

Rengoku chuckled darkly, the rich timbre of his voice causing her blood to nearly boil with her want, as he made his way down her body with his lips.

He first came to her chest bindings, growling in impatience as he nipped at one breast over the tightly wound fabric.

His fingers brushed against her sternum as he ripped her bindings straight down the middle, Y/N shuddering as the warm summer night’s air caressed her sensitive skin, her nipples pebbling at the change in temperature.

She waited for him to lavish her soft mounds, but the Flame Pillar paused, eyes narrowed on the valley between her breasts, right on the pale, lilac mark where he’d plunged Shinobu’s antidote into her heart.

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. He’d reacted poorly to the ribboned scar on her lower belly already, and now her once chance to finally have Rengoku in the way she’d so desperately longed to have him was about to be ruined.

But instead of pulling away from her in disgust, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against it the healed wound.

“I hadn’t realized I wounded you,” he murmured softly, reverently as he kissed it again. Y/N watched in bewilderment as he pressed his ear against her chest, letting his head rest there for a moment.

Listening to her heart hammer against her sternum.

“The sweetest music,” he whispered, pulling away to look at her not with lust but with unbounded tenderness.

Don’t look at me like that, she silently begged, don’t give me hope.

But as quickly as the moment had come, it passed and the esurient flame in Rengoku’s eyes flickered back to life. His lips continued down her abdomen, hot and needy until he reached the source of her near-fatal injury.

His mouth paused at the scar left by Upper Moon Six, the one he’d so callously glared at not even an hour before. This time, he ran his tongue along it, from the top to its base near her hipbone, pressing a fierce kiss against its end before continuing his descent.

“I will either have to thank my old Tsugoku the next time I see her,” Rengoku whispered darkly as he pulled at the soft waistband of Y/N’s undershorts with his teeth. “Or I shall have to burn her sewing room to cinders.” Rengoku’s fingers slid beneath the short hem of her bottoms, pulling them down inch by inch to expose her sensitive flesh.

Rengoku groaned when he saw Y/N was not wearing anything else beneath her scandalous bottoms. “Definitely burning.” His hands, so large and warm ran up the outer curve of her thighs, marveling at the silky smoothness of her skin. “Because you are far too tempting when wearing them.”

The Flame Pillar looked wild as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the lower indent between Y/N’s hipbones as he kissed his way down to where she ached the most.

He ducked around the center of her desire in favor of sucking softly on her inner thigh. Y/N’s chest heaved as her hands flailed next to her, desperately seeking purchase, until the Flame Hashira caught them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on her palms as their fingers interlaced.

“Rengoku - just fuck me already,” Y/N groaned as the Flame Pillar’s face settled between her thighs, his hot breath against her bare cunt causing her legs to attempt to clench shut.

“Well now, that won’t do,” Rengoku tutted, his hands withdrawing from hers as he wound his arms underneath both of her thighs, spreading them as wide as he could to expose her core to his heady gaze.

Rengoku leaned forward and lightly traced up her damp slit with the tip of his tongue. His amber irises which had been locked on hers, rolled back into his head as he groaned at her taste.

“I’m going to take my time with you. I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time, Y/N.” He warned, hands tightening around her thighs as he pressed a light kiss against her slit, teasing her.

In the back of her mind, Y/N registered that he’d used her first name. But the graze of his lips against her most sensitive flesh had her crying out his name, high-pitched and breathy, and she watched helplessly as the sound made Rengoku’s eyes turn black.

In an instant, he was upon her, and he was ravenous.

His mouth latched to her center as though she was an oasis in the middle of a blazing desert, and he was a man dying of thirst.

The way Rengoku’s teeth grazed her sensitive nub made her abdomen clench, and she fought against his ironclad grip on her thighs as they spasmed, desperate to clench around his head.

Y/N moaned, head thrown back into the soft summer grass as she felt herself grow wetter and wetter beneath the Flame Pillar, her hands desperately tugging and pinching at her breasts in an effort to feel more pleasure.

Y/N felt as though she was hurtling towards a cliff that she could not stop herself from tumbling over as Rengoku increased the intensity of his ministrations against her needy cunt.

“You taste,” he ground out through harsh drags of his tongue up her drenched folds, “like fucking paradise.”

His mouth latched around her clit, giving it a sharp suck that had Y/N seeing stars. She barely had time to recover, to acknowledge that she was at her tipping point when Rengoku thrust his tongue into her core and began to fuck her.

Y/N came apart the moment she felt his tongue enter her, a rush of her juices spilling over his relentless maw, but he held her hips down and continued his feast. His teeth grazed her clit over and over while his tongue pumped steadily in and out of her, and Y/N was close to sobbing at the overstimulation.

The Flame Pillar kept his eyes locked on hers the entire time, the amber orbs glowing almost ominously in the indigo night.

“I- fuck.” Y/N breathed, grinding unrestrainedly against the blonde’s greedy mouth. “Rengoku!”

The Ice Pillar tried to sit up, tried to grab her comrade’s hair to tell him that she couldn’t take it anymore, that she needed him, but Rengoku was faster. Unfurling a steely arm from where it had been locked around her thigh to hold her open to him, he reached up her torso, his large hand splaying across her upper abdomen to restrain her.

“Sit down,” he growled between thrusts of his tongue into her aching cunt, nipping harshly at her inner thigh. “I am not finished.”

Y/N whimpered beneath the weight of his hand holding her down against the earth and the nearly painful ecstasy that Rengoku bestowed upon her between her legs.

Whether it was in praise for her obedience or a further act of torture, Rengoku then pressed his face flush against her core and rocked it harshly from side to side, his nose and the burgeoning stubble along his jaw scraping against her overstimulated and sensitive flesh.

Y/N slapped her hand against her mouth to stifle the howl that tore from her throat. Rengoku repeated the movement; it felt wonderful. It felt obscene. It made Y/N’s thighs contract around his head as her stomach dipped inward and a gush of her juices spilled out of her, more powerful than before, dampening the collar of the Flame Pillar’s haori.

For a breath, Y/N thought she would die of embarrassment until she felt Rengoku’s mouth vibrate against her from his groan of satisfaction. His tongue thrust once, twice more into her aching core before he withdrew completely, satisfaction tugging at the corners of his smirking lips.

But Rengoku looked nowhere near sated as he gazed down hungrily at her, wantonly spread out against the grass, the shredded pieces of her training attire strewn about, save for her haori.

“I will give you one last chance to end this now,” Rengoku whispered, kneeling above her but no longer touching her. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will walk away, and no one will know.”

Though her body already ached from the intensity of Rengoku’s mouth upon her, she could not fathom stopping here, not when she’d barely begun to taste him herself. The thought of rolling aside to pull on the tattered remains of her clothing, to return to her estate and awake tomorrow as though he had not melted every icy reservation she’d held with his touch, was enough to make her want to cry.

Though her limbs felt boneless, she summoned all her strength to reach toward the Flame Hashira, to beckon him to return to her.

“I want you, Rengoku,” Y/N said, her voice a breathy whisper as tears clung to her eyelashes. “Please.”

Rengoku’s pupils exploded, his eyes darkening as he covered her nude body with his own. Y/N nearly sobbed in relief as his lips roughly caught hers, one hand coming up to cradle her face while the other snaked beneath her head, tilting it to the side so he could deepen his claim over her mouth.

Y/N’s hands rose, shakily, to pull at the buttons of his uniform top, desperate to feel his skin burn against hers.

“On one condition,” Rengoku said, moving his lips from hers to press against her ear, Y/N shivering. “You must call me by my name,”

“Rengoku?” Y/N questioned her mind too fogged by her own desire.

He nipped lightly under her jaw before pulling his face back from hers, smirking slightly at the way she whined when avoided her attempt to kiss him again.

“My true name.”

With clarity, Y/N realized what he desired. But he had teased her far too much already, and she yearned to return the favor.

So she looked up at him through her eyelashes, teeth sinking into her lower lip in such a way that made the Flame Hashira’s eyes darken.

“Please, please, Kyojuro,” she whispered, lancing a hand up his bicep. “Take me.”

The growl that clawed its way out of the heaving chest of the Flame Pillar made Y//N’s thighs clamp together. Rengoku — Kyojuro — pounced on her, and Y/N summoned all her residual strength to rip his uniform shirt open.

Kyojuro moaned into her neck as his shirt gave way and Y/N’s hands came to rest against his bare skin, her nails raking down his taut pectorals to the rigid planes of his chiseled abdomen.

Her lips began descending the path carved by her nails when she drew short at the dark, thick starburst-shaped scar that covered his shoulder and left pectoral. Kyojuro’s breath seized as she pressed her lips ever so softly against it, turning so she could look up at him from beneath her lashes.

Kyojuro was panting as she nuzzled against his scar, kissing it once more before gently gliding her hand over his heart and resting it there, letting herself savor the strong, sturdy beat from within his chest.

Just as he did before, she resumed her trail down his body, her lips coming to the edge of his pants when his hands wound themselves in her hair, every nerve in his body alight as she licked her way up the small happy trail that stopped just below his belly button.

As much as he wanted to feel her mouth around him, Kyojuro had been driven to the brink of insanity by Y/N’s touch, and his resolve was quickly dwindling.

“Y/N — my flame — I can’t wait,” Kyojuro said by way of apology, as he covered her hands with his own to still them on his belt. He slipped his hands down to grip her wrists, bringing them together in one hand and moving her arms up over her head, pinning them against the grasp. With his free hand, Kyojuro loosened his belt and his pants, and shimmied them down, kicking them off behind him. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of his proud length as it bounced against his belly button.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She was no stranger to the male body, but this – she’d never had anyone compare to Kyojuro’s size or girth.

Kyojuro noticed her hesitation. “Is this – have you ever --?” Kyojuro breathed, hovering above her. It did not matter to him whether she had or had not, but he wanted to ensure that he did not hurt her.

Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s not my first time – but you are the first one to be so…well endowed.” Y/N flushed as Kyojuro laughed softly above her, and she felt his lips graze hers.

He pulled back slightly, reaching to grip the base of his aching cock tapping it against her soaked cunt in a warning and in permission.

Y/N seized beneath him at the spark of hot pleasure that was sent crackling up her spine as he rubbed his velvety head against the most sensitive part of her core. “Kyojuro,” she hissed through clenched teeth, rolling her hips impatiently towards him.

The mushroomed tip of his cock pushed into her entrance and Y/N felt herself go cross-eyed. It was heaven; pure, unadulterated, blissful heaven.

He was insistent on easing his thick length into her, but the throbbing between Y/N’s legs had grown nearly unbearable. He still wasn’t close enough, not nearly as much as she needed him to be.

Boldly, Y/N locked her ankles against Kyojuro’s backside, and with all her might, hauled him into her in a single stroke.

“Fuck!” he yelled, unable to restrain his volume as Y/N forced him to become fully seated within her. Her core was impossibly tight and so fucking warm and wet that it had been a true exercise of self-restraint not to spill himself inside her right then.

Y/N nearly screamed in pleasured relief at the way her body burned and stretched around Kyojuro’s considerable length, his base pressed flush against her sensitive clit as she began to grind furiously against him, desperate to relieve the friction that made her ache.

Kyojuro was still panting from the way Y/N had slammed him into her, nearly trembling with restraint as he willed himself not to finish before they’d truly begun.

Once certain that he would not climax like some green boy, he laughed quietly under his breath. The dark sound caused Y/N’s eyes to fly open, and her stomach flipped at the wicked glint in his eyes as he stared at her like a hunter stalking its prey.

Kyojuro leaned forward and took one of her breasts, harshly into his mouth, grazing his teeth over her nipple hard enough to make Y/N cry out in slight pain before he lapped at it soothingly with his tongue.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” He murmured between his ministrations, leaving fresh marks all over aching mounds.

Y/N could hardly make a sound as Kyojuro withdrew almost completely from her heat before slamming into her once, the Ice Pillar nearly choking on the breath that flew from her chest with his force.

Desperately — pathetically — Y/N nodded, whimpering.

“If that’s how you want it,” Kyojuro growled against her breast, giving her nipple one harsh nip with his teeth before pulling himself off her.

He sat on his knees, back straight as he began to pound relentlessly into her, his hands gripping her backside and holding her flush against his strong thighs. Y/N’s head remained thrown back against the earth, her fingers tearing at the soft grass beneath her.

Rengoku’s movements were just like those he wielded in battle — powerful; all-consuming; relentless; and unforgiving.

Y/N had never considered herself to be a particularly vocal person when engaged in carnal activities, but the way that Rengoku’s cock hammered into her spasming core over and over had reduced her to a moaning and whimpering mess. The only intelligible thing that fell from her lips was his name — Kyojuro.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” Kyojuro grunted out between forceful snaps of his hips against hers, the night air alive with the lewd squelching of Y/N’s dripping cunt as he pistoned into her.

Y/N looked to see the Flame Pillar’s eyes locked on her breasts as they bounced with the force of his thrusts. Between the moans and whimpers he pulled from her with every punishing thrust of his hips against hers, she lightly dragged her fingers from their place in the grass to her hipbone, and then up to trace teasingly around her peaked breast.

Kyojuro’s eyes followed every move, his thrusts hardening as she pinched her nipple and let out a breathy little scream, her walls pulsing around his aching length.

“Fuck,” Kyojuro grit, feeling himself twitch within her as he watched Y/N play with herself, spurring him to go faster, deeper within her.

He moved his hand under one of her knees and lifted her leg over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper into her silken heat, and he teasingly drew his fingers up and down her outer thigh.

At that moment, as Kyojuro was poised against the silhouette of the moon, his amber eyes glowing as he watched where he appeared and disappeared inside her, the realization hit Y/N like a storm, and it knocked her entirely off her axis.

She was in love with Kyojuro.

Who else could make her feel so sacred and yet so angry? Who else had been capable of slipping past every wall she’d built within herself, capable of getting her to let her guard down before consuming her so furiously she had not realized she’d ever been in danger?

He was fire, she was ice. One of them had to give to the other. She’d just always thought it would be him giving into her.

Yet there, beneath the moonlight, her climax rising above her like a tidal wave, Y/N realized that she was powerless against the waves that rose to pull her under, to never again let her up for air.

Distantly, Y/N felt the Flame Pillar’s callused thumb find her clit and her climax slammed into her, and she succumbed to the endless sea called Kyojuro.

--------------------------------------------------------

As Y/N broke apart around him, Kyojuro swore he’d never seen anything as beautiful in his entire life.

She shattered over him with the prettiest scream he’d ever heard, and he could barely make out the drawn-out syllables of his name as her hips jerked up against his while her inner walls threatened to squeeze the life from him.

Y/N finally collapsed back against the ground, her body limp from the exhaustion of her pleasure. Kyojuro then moved in chase of his own release, his hips pressed solidly against hers as he rutted his cock deep within her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands tightening around Y/N’s waist. The familiar electricity of impending release tingled at the base of Kyojuro’s spine, and his stomach began to clench as he began his ascent to his climax.  “Y/N — I am going to finish soon,” his head was thrown back, and his groans were loud enough to alert anyone nearby of exactly what was transpiring between the two Hashira. “Please — tell me where--”

“Inside,” Y/N gasped, her legs tightening around Kyojuro’s hips in a feeble attempt to keep him within her, to ensure that he wouldn’t yet leave her. “Please, Kyojuro, stay.”

Kyojuro was a rational man, and he knew of one major reason not to allow his seed to spill inside Y/N’s heavenly body. But all those rationalities flew out the window at the sound of her wanton and needy whimpers and the way her heat fluttered around him and Kyojuro did not think he could pull out of her if he wanted to.

Kyojuro’s thrusts became more and more frenzied and bruising, with the Flame Hashira hardly dragging his twitching length out of her as he neared his own climax.

“Hold onto me,” he panted, falling forward so that his chest was pressed flush against Y/N’s, one arm going to wrap around her waist while the other snaked over to where her arm lay in the grass, gripping her wrist to pin it up over her head as his fingers interlocked tightly with hers.

Y/N hiked her legs higher up his waist, crossing them at her shins so that he was buried deep within her. Her free arm looped under the one he had braced above her head to wrap around his back, her fingers digging into the rippling muscle and scarred skin that littered his shoulders.

“Make me yours, Kyojuro,” she whispered against his neck, squeezing his hips with her thighs.

Y/N felt his entire body tense at her words and Kyojuro’s moans turned into shouts as he gave one final, deep thrust within her before he exploded. His hand tightened fiercely around hers with the force of his climax,

The pleasure that surged up his spine had been white hot as he pushed himself as deeply as he could possibly go within Y/N’s vice-like core. Kyojuro was not a novice to pleasure, but he had never finished as hard or as much as he did buried within her.

Kyojuro canted his hips, prolonging his release as he continued to empty himself into her, coming down from his earth-shattering high. Y/N mewled against his throat, her lips brushing against his sensitive pulse point as her legs spasmed. once more around his hips.

He finally stilled within her, arms shaking as he braced himself above her, to keep from crushing the exhausted woman beneath him.

He lowered his head down to her level. “Are you all right, my flame?” He panted, pressing a kiss between her brows before he rested his forehead heavily against hers.

She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and nodded shakily.

He no longer could keep himself from collapsing against Y/N, but as he fell forward, he gripped her and rolled, pulling her to his chest with his leaking cock still nestled deeply between her legs.  

“I don’t want to push you away,” Kyojuro murmured softly after a moment, his chest finally easing as his breathing slowed.

Y/N made a show of looking down to where they were still joined, the Flame Pillar’s pearly seed slowly leaking out of her and onto the grass below them. “I think I’m about as close to you as physically possible, Rengoku.”

Kyojuro rolled his eyes and ground his hips slightly into her, causing Y/N to squeak against him.

“Quiet, woman, I’m trying to apologize to you.” He trailed his fingers up and down her spine as she nestled back against his chest, chin perched on his pectoral as she waited for him to continue.

“I was just so angry. After the incident on the train, when I woke up in Kocho’s hospital — I was furious. With myself.” Amber eyes met hers and softened to pools of melted honey. “It was never you I was angry with.”

Y/N held his gaze evenly, her voice firm. “But you took it out on me all the same.” It wasn’t an angry accusation — it was the truth; ugly and sharp. But it was real, and so was the tentative, knowing hope in her eyes.

“Yes,” Kyojuro breathed. “Yes, I did. And I am so sorry for it, Y/N.” His hand reached up to gently cup the side of her face, thumb smoothing over the soft expanse of her cheek. “May I ask for your forgiveness?”

Y/N leaned her head into his warm palm, and smiled, softly.

“You may ask, Kyojuro.”

He brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

Y/N threw a leg out over his other hip, straddling him beneath her, though moving so fluidly that they remained connected at their base.

She rolled her hips against his, and he felt himself begin to harden within her once more. Kyojuro moaned softly, head falling back against the earth as he brought his hands up to steady her, fingers digging gently into her hips as she repeated the movement, again and again, until he’d fully stiffened within her.

“Yes Kyojuro,” she sighed, hands coming to brace themselves against his abdomen as she began to ride him. “I forgive you.”

Kyojuro groaned, his head thrown back as he began to gently grind up into her, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as she lightly raked her nails over his pectorals and the hard ridges of his abdomen.

He wanted so very badly to lose himself within his pleasure, to allow Y/N to consume him whole and never let him go again, but his atonement was not complete.

Because Y/N had given him every opportunity to confess to her before, and he had been careless with them; she would not open that door herself again.

So he would.

“And may I give you my heart, Y/N?” He asked, his hands gliding sensually up from her hips to brace themselves on either side of her sensitive waist, squeezing her firmly.

Her pace had stuttered slightly once his words registered, eyes widening as she looked down at him, and Kyojuro hated that he was the reason the shadow of doubt lingered in her eyes.

“Is it truly mine?” She breathed, resuming the intoxicating rise and fall and push and grind of her hips, breasts beginning to bounce as she picked up her pace.

Kyojuro’s mouth watered, but he restrained himself, holding her gaze. “It was only ever yours, Y/N.”

Y/N cried out then, her hips beginning to drop and roll into his with urgency. By the way her damp heat began to pulse and constrict around him, Kyojuro knew that she was barreling towards her release once more.

One hand left its searing position at her waist to drift down to where they were connected, his rough thumb toying with the sensitive nub that had her heavenly cunt squeezing him for dear life.

“My beautiful flame,” he moaned, “how lucky I am to have such a darling god be the keeper of my heart.”

Kyojuro rolled into her from below again, the hand still braced on her waist guiding himself to push deeper into her, as his thumb began to press harder into the apex of her thighs.

“Sweet tempest, please,” Kyojuro panted, the relentless squeeze of Y/N’s walls around his aching length beginning to drive him to the point of madness. “Please, may I have your love?”

Y/N’s moans were piercing as she half-sobbed above him, head thrown back into the night sky, the hoary glow of the moon making her look like a celestial deity given human form as she writhed above him.

“Yes!” Y/N cried, “Yes Kyojuro, you have always had my love!”

The moment the words fell from her lips, Kyojuro jolted upright, coming into a sitting position as Y/N’s legs instantly wrapped around him. He wound one arm around her waist to bounce her in his lap, the other moving to circle his fingers around her nub.

Kyojuro nuzzled her nose with his own, his lips mere centimeters from hers as he pressed his forehead against her and held her eyes. “Then come for me, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath tickling her lips as he nuzzled her again. “Come for me, my love.”

Y/N seized around him like a vice, her head falling back as she unleashed a euphoric cry.

The force of her climax had caused her to arch backward in Kyojuro’s lap, thrusting her breasts up and forward, and Kyojuro bent to suck one into his greedy mouth, his own release imminent. The warm sticky rush of her pleasure combined with the way her velvety, molten walls constricted around him had Kyojuro seeing stars as his seed shot into her, hot and fast, his strangled groan muffled only by the soft plush of Y/N’s breast as he filled her to her brim for the second time that night.

For a long moment, neither Pillar said anything as they came down from their mutual highs, Y/N’s head pressed against Kyojuro’s shoulder while the Flame Pillar kept his arms firmly around her waist, his fingers trailing up and down her spine.

“Y/N, are you all right?” He murmured into her ear, still buried deep within her heat.

Y/N nodded sleepily against his skin, savoring how full and complete she felt perched in his lap.

“I love you, Kyojuro.” She said so softly that the Flame Pillar thought his heart might break. Kyojuro pulled away slightly to bring his fingers beneath her chin where she lay against his shoulder. Gently, he tilted her face towards his and captured her lips with his own.  

“My darling flame,” He murmured against her lips as they broke apart, his eyes sweeping over her face, committing every detail of her beauty to memory. “Thank you.”

Y/N gave him a lazy smile. “I cannot be your flame, Kyojuro,” she teased, “Not when I am made of ice.”

Kyojuro flipped her back beneath him and danced his lips teasingly across the bridge of her nose. “Don’t you know, my beautiful foil, that ice can burn just as well as flame?” He pressed a feather-light kiss against her lips. “And I have been consumed by your silvery fire since I first laid eyes on you at Final Selection.”

Y/N looked up at him in wonder, her hand coming to rest against his face as she adoringly caressed his cheek.

“I love you, Y/N. I am so sorry it took me until now to say it.”

-------------------------------------------------—

Epilogue

Y/N made back it into her room, sight unseen, just as dawn had crept over the horizon.

Feet bare, she padded softly over to her waiting bed, shrugging out of Kyojuro’s uniform shirt and falling into her blankets, not caring at the growing discomfort she felt as the Flame Pillar’s seed dried in her undershorts.

She just wanted to sleep.

Y/N and Kyojuro had come together twice more before the pair realized that morning was imminent, and they needed to return to their respective dwellings before anyone noticed they were gone.

Y/N had lamented that Kyojuro had shredded her chest bindings beyond salvation and had worried she’d be forced to sneak back into the Butterfly Mansion with nothing but her haori to cover her bare chest when Kyojuro slid his uniform shirt over her shoulders.

“No one will think twice if they see me bare,” he’d said by way of explanation, gaze dropping momentarily to appreciate the marks he had left dotted across her breasts before rising back to her face. “I would like to keep you hidden, however.”

Kyojuro then fastened each button one by one, beginning from the bottom as he kissed his way up Y/N’s torso until his lips found the sensitive spot beneath her jaw, which he’d nipped.

It had taken everything in her not to throw him down and have him for the fifth time.

Kyojuro had walked with her as far as the edge of the path back to Shinobu’s before parting her with a sweet kiss and a promise to return to her later in the morning. He had also mentioned, somewhat mischievously, that he would be inquiring into when Y/N could expect to be discharged from the Butterfly Mansion and return to her own Estate.

Her empty, person-free estate.

Y/N collapsed into her bed, ready to sleep for a precious few hours before her training would begin anew.

“So, do you mind sharing where you’ve been all night?” A dangerously sweet voice chirped from over by the door.

Y/N shot up out of her bed, stomach falling out of her ass, as she faced the smiling, enraged Insect Pillar seated primly atop her wooden stool opposite of her.

“I was quite worried, you know,” Shinobu tutted, the honey of her smile poisoned by the violence in her eyes.

Y/N had never been one to be at a loss for words, a quick comment, or a snappy retort always on hand when the situation called for it.

But to her horror, her mind had gone dreadfully blank, and her tongue was swollen stupid in her mouth.

Shinobu smiled like she knew, eyes slowly looking her over, and Y/N was left with the uncomfortable feeling that her friend could see every way she’d allowed Kyojuro to utterly defile her.

“Will you be in need of a contraceptive?” Shinobu asked lightly, and Y/N felt like she would drop dead right then and there.

“…Yes, please.” She managed to squeak, and the Insect Pillar turned to leave.

“I will bring it with your breakfast.” Her hand closed around the doorknob but stilled.

“And Y/N?”

The Ice Pillar whimpered as her friend turned to look back at her, all smiles and throbbing forehead veins.

“If you ever keep the younger girls awake from the sounds of your activities with the Flame Pillar again, I will poison you both.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

[muntitled]

𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐚

Pairings: Jaemin Na x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Jaemin Na, the dashing yet ambitious magnate, is tired of playing the toll as a silent stakeholder. He wants your father's business. He wants the whole thing, even if it means seducing the boss's daughter to get it.

Warning: Business Rivals to Fwb to lovers, Toxic Family Relationship, Violence, Business politics, Businessman AU, Forbidden Relationship, Slight Angst, Male Manipulation, Manipulation tactics, Smut (+18) Minors dni, Daddy Kink, Degradation Kink, Rough Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Ownership Kink, DDLG, Fingering, Spitting, Marking, Bruises, Grinding, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex.

A/N: My third NCT Dream fic! They're truly my favorite group, so I plan on writing more for them. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this. Excuse me while I project my daddy kink onto Jaemin. Im sorry, but my bias fuels it way too much. You all saw that live, right?... THAT one live. Iykyk. Anyway, he's so daddy coded, okay bye.

The moon is high, and the night is deep when you find yourself quite literally being paraded around a bustling open reception. Goldleaf and tinsel wrap around the off-white columns, veneering the room in a deep but faintly expensive sepia tone. Despite the hatred festering in your bones, you did have to admit that the clubhouse in the very center of a highly competitive Country Club did make for a good party reception indeed. Nestling all of 100 dapper guests, 100 partners, wives and mistresses, and 100 wallets, to sink their wrinkled hands into.

Your father did know how to throw a party, you'd certainly give the man that. That is all you give him, however. That is all the grace he deserves.

Despite the tempest of emotions in your veins, the laughter you emit to the group surrounding the small appetizer's table is static and robotic, and anything but genuine. It pitters politely out of your lips as you raise the flute of shampagne, hoping to disguise just how fucking annoyed you actually were.

"You'll do well to remember the name," your father proclaims before laying a hand on your back as he pushes you closer into the circle of suited men - a lamb to the proverbial slaughter.

"She's going to be running things once I retire," a Jazz number played by a live band is not enough to drown out the influx of chatter that spreads throughout the main hall of the Clubhouse at the news of your father's retirement. You could practically here the thinning lips salivate at the very sound of it: The emperor, stepping down, leaving his empire vulnerable to the raiders.

"I feel proud and so unbelievably lucky to have such a reliable line of succession." Says your father, "When I'm six foot under, I'll know that Neo Tech is safe in her hands-"

A snicker escapes, likely concocted by the decent amount of alcohol in your blood, "Although that time isn't coming soon enough!" Your statement allows for a grand chuckle to fall across the table where you all stood, nursing your deviled eggs and bacon-wrapped asparagus.

The display is that of good-natured jest between a father and daughter to the guests around you, clad in ambercrombie suits and Alexander Mcqueen gowns.

Your father, however, slithers a hand onto your shoulder, squeezing all too hard as he laughs statically.

You can feel the warning in his calloused grip. A stern threat...

Not too much, it cautioned.

The action, though seemingly innocent and fleeting to the rest of the table, draws the attention of a man whose countenance had been sparse and dismisive the entire evening. Despite this being a private gathering for your father's most trusted stakeholders and their partners, Jaemin had been far from interested in attending.

Once, he was made privy to the knowledge that this was a retirement celebration, however... that changed things, and Jaemin threw on his jet black Armani blazer over a silky unisex blouse that stretched across his chest.

He admits that he made his attendance out of greed. Having to save face and play the roll of the responsibile stakeholder before he was truly able to pillage your father's company right from underneath him. If that meant entertaining the degenerate conversation of greying white men with viagra prescriptions and a cocaine addiction, then so be it.

"It truly is a shame that I have to take something from someone as promising as yourself." He whispers to himself over the rim of his own champagne flute, his darkened eyes stationed on you. It was difficult not to stare, when you were being hounded by business associates, men and women alike, eager to ascertain how they might win the hand of the queen.

A silk gown drips like the liquidfied night sky down your curves, spilling on the floor around what Jaemin imagined to be ample, soft thighs - something he could sink his fingers into, sink his teeth into-

You're chuckling very fakely at something an investor said at a round cocktail table nearby. Although what really gets Jaemin's blood rushing through his arteries is the sight of your father dragging you away from the main hall, up a spiraling stair case. Jaemin prided himself on minding his business. This came second nature to him.

What he could not ignore, however, was the slight alarm, marring the scowl along your soft face. Nothing could spoil your perfect makeup, but the frown he caught a glimpse of before you disappeared was enough.

Jaemin almost immediately found his Hilfiger loafers leading him down the path you had just walked. He downed the golden liquid in his flute and, never breaking eye contact from the spiral staircase, placed the glass on the tray of a mobile waiter. He wiped the access champagne off his lips, quite barbarically, with the sleeves of his blazer as he emerged into the main foyer.

Immediately, a hiss of conversation could be heard from the mezzanine above.

"-the hands of the company! Do you understand how important this is?! How fucking ungrateful you are-"

"Not to interrupt," Jaemin speaks, slyly climbing the stairs as he stuffed his hand into the pocket of his dress pants. The look your father thows him is absolutely villanizing.

Instead of shying away, however, you swallow thickly to note a slow sick sort of smirk curling onto Jaemin's face.

"Who the fuck are you?" Instead of sparing your father any look at all, Jaemin's gaze is solidified on your father's violent grip on your forearm.

"You don't know who he is?" You ask your father, marginally shocked but not at all surprised as Jaemin neared the two of you.

"That's okay, that's okay," he says, letting the gleaming smirk stay solid across his face, "My father sends his greetings, by the way" Jaemin says, "I didn't wish for our 45% share not to be represented at such a monumental event."

Therein lies the very first signs of embarrassment around your father's face. He begrudgingly removes his grip from your forearm but does not leave before he quickly tacks on, "Excuse me, Mr Na, but this is a private conversation -"

Jaemin is already lifting his hand, his Rolex gleaming under the crystal chandelier as he casually says, "Important enough to miss an audience with your shareholders? Everyone is asking for you, big man." Jaemin replies smoothly, "You are still the boss, right?"

Then, and only then does Jaemin exchange the very first real bit if eye contact with you tnh entire evening, and God strike you dead if it did not release an influx of warm, sputtering butterflies with molten wings in the pit of your stomach. You're still glidd to his side. The successor cradled tightly to her Daddy's arm.

"We'll finish this later," Your father hisses in your ear before stepping back and giving Jaemin one final nod. His disappearance births an uncomfortable heat and even more uncomfortable silence in the mezzanine. Jaemin does nothing but watch you with a tilted head and a near constant smirk.

"Hi." He says cheekily, all of the seriousness in his voice gone as he begins to move closer to you. You only roll your eyes before turning around to scour for a free room in the clubhouse. He follows cooly and calmly.

"Stop staring at my ass," you chide, pushing open a heavy door before switching on the light.

"Nah," Jaemin follows you inside. "Don't tell me what to do,"

He turns to peer down the corridor with one raised eyebrow before effectively sealing the door shut. You had led the both of you into one of the very many guest suites peppered across the Clubhouse. Jaemin is remarkably pleased to notice how your inhibitions immediately melt away. Your shoulders relax as you kick off your red bottomed heels, letting them land lazily in a corner.

"You haven't told him have you?" His voice is stable but rumbles like a heavy cloud throughout the room.

You evade eye contact as you quickly walk up to him, beginning to splay tiny kisses around his exposed neck.

"No, Jaemin," Your breathe fans across his exposed skin as you undo thr little bow of the silk blouse, "I did not tell my father about your plans to rape his company," You push down his blazer and he lets you. Watching you with a piercing glare as a deep, warm, pool of lust begins to grow in your core at the very sight of how big he truly is.

"Would you rather he find out on the day?" He asks, still letting you undress him as if he was a lifeless piece of him. "I know you're evil but that evil-"

"Fuck, you're so hot," Jaemin's cock stirs, as it always did, when that needy sort of whine pushed itself out the confines of your throat. You knew what buttons to push, to get the reaction you wanted. Tonight, however, would prove to be a much different occasion.

"How long do you plan on waiting?" You're nails are dragging itself down the front of his muscled body. Before you can reach his cock, already causing a bulge in his dress pants, Jaemin roughly grabs at your wrist.

"I said. How long do you plan on waiting?" Despite the calmness in his voice, Jaemin's grip on your wrist is unrelenting. It is rough, and it is violent, and it makes your father's earlier grip on your forearm feel like a child's play.

"Fucking forever, Jaemin! Jesus!" You burst in a flurry of rage and lust and frustration. "I will wait until forever it means I won't get outed as a shit daughter and a fucking rat, Jaemin!"

He tilts his head as he smiles and cooly says, "Watch that tone."

But he's already got you going, and you're finally letting out the feelings that had only been building for the duration of an entire, hellish evening. "Can you even begin to understand how I feel?! I know you want this company, but -"

"But?" Jaemin asks in a sing-song voice before pulling you closer by your wrist. He dips his head down, folding his tall frame over as he tilts your head up. "There shouldn't be a but, baby." The words are veneered in a lustful whisper as he finally places his lips to your throat.

"With me, it's either all or nothing." Now it's Jaemin's turn to slowly drag his hands up the side of your curves. He lets the tips of his fingers tease the fabric as he smoothes his hand over your chest. Your resolve explodes, and you melt right into him, as his hand makes its way up your throat. His palm enclosing the spot where his lips have just been.

"I hate seeing you like that, baby. I hate seeing you glued to his side when you should be glued to mine."

You're faintly aware that you're both mobile now. Not knowing which way is up and which is down as your back presses against a wall.

"He's..." you swallow thickly as Jaemin slips down the soft fabric of your dress. Your exposed shoulder is immediately assaulted by his reign of wet and drunken kisses.

As he tongues at the skin, Jaemin makes sure to look up at you. Siren eyes under thick eyebrows as he pushes the fabric all the way down until your dress is pooling at your feet and you're left in nothing but your Fenty underwear.

"He's family." You applaud yourself mentally for having the brain capacity to formulate all of two words. That celebration, however, immediately falls short when Jaemin snickers. He pulls back, turning his head slightly as his tongue stabs the inside of his mouth before swinging his head back to you.

"You always tell me you only have one, Daddy, don't you?"

A deep, angry heat blossoms around your skin as you evade eye contact. "Jesus, Jaemin."

"Jaemin?" He mocks, before pushing you back further onto wall.

"Is that who I am to you?"

"That is your name, yes." Your confidence waver when his hands begin to push down the straps of bra. He undoes the clasps as he says, "Interesting. So then, i guess, my name wasnt Jaemin, when i fucked you on a nalcony in Mykonos? Got it."

He's quick to push your panties down far enough so that he's forcing his fingers between your legs. The gasp you emit is almost painful as you immediately buck your hips into his hand. “Fuck-”

“You cum on my hand, correct?”

“F-Fuck,” he lets you hump lazily into his palm and you all but whimper as your begin to yearn for him to fuck you with his long digits.

“You cum on my hand. You cum on my cock. Only I can do that for you, baby”

“God, yes, Daddy.”

Jaemin has to physically stop himself from not pulling his pants down and fucking your brains right right and there. Those words leaving your mouth did something animalistic to him- scratching a very archaic part of his monkey brain that let him know that you needed him. You needed him to reach orgasm, you needed him to fuck you to feel good. You needed him.

“You don't need anyone else, but me, right baby?”

You're so dangerously close to the edge, your vision blurring with your oncoming orgasm as you reply, “You, Daddy- only you.”

His cock is pushing painfully against dress pants and Jaemin swear as he pulls his blouse over his head. Your breathing grows even more precipitous when you see his torso in all its big and gleaming glory.

“need you so bad,” you mumble, still pushing your hips out even though his hand has disappeared and there's nothing there.

“Yeah?” He asks, pulling his cock out without breaking eye contact, “You need Daddy’s cock, don't you, sweetheart?”

“I need it,” you whisper and watch as your words affect him in ways you had not seen before.

Jaemin’s eyes are blown into saucers while the tips of his brown hair is drenched in sweat. Gone is the cockiness. Gone is the smirk. He only brings a cupped hand up to your mouth as he orders you to, “Spit.”

Almost without thinking about it, you do just that, and Jaemin watches with an open mouth as he begins to stroke his himself with your wetness. He throws his head back in a broken amalgamation of a moan and a gasp, and you're only left to watch while your hand almost subconsciously moves down your own body.

The sound of your wetness brings Jaemin back to the mission at hand as he lolls his head forward. The sight of you fucking yourself, knuckles deep, as your eyes zero in on his hand, has him immediately pushing you against the wall.

“You're such a fucking slut-” He hisses and you moan as he pulls your hand up to his mouth. “Did Daddy teach you to be a slut?” and when you fail to respond he only says, “Answer me,” he says cooly, “Did I teach you to be a slut, or a good girl?”

You have truly reached a stalemate. Not knowing what to say that might garner a favourable response. Dread pools in your tummy and Jaemin only watches as go to war with yourself. The conflict in your eye is present and raw.

All is quiet as Jaemin bends down slowly and that signature smirk curls at the end of his lips.

“Cute.” He whispers before crashing his lips against yours.

Your hands enclose around the back of Jaemin's hand as he effortlessly picks you up off the ground, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. He pushes you up against the wall and the immediate contact of your dripping pussy pressed against his skin has you both moaning and groaning into the kiss.

“So fucking cute...” He whispers before easing his cock right into you, “You're so fucking tight- fuck-” the wind sounds like it has been knocked clean out of him as he begins to fuck you with harsh, violent thrusts.

“That's it, pretty girl,”

You can hear the smile in his voice and you fight to open your eyes. If there was one thing that got you even wetter it was the sight of Jaemin just managing a lazy open-mouth smile as he forced his cock into your cunt. It stings and hurts but the pleasure in his hooded eyes make the experience all the more worth it.

Jaemin clenches his jaw together as he leans down until you're both forehead to forehead.

“That man downstairs isn't your Daddy, is he?” His eyes dare you to disagree with him but all you do us shake your head as you say, “You. You're my Da- oh God.”

“I'll take that title too,” he chuckles before pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he sped up his pace. Jaemin fucks hard and rough and you claw mindlessly at his back. He loves it. You know he does because his cock is twitching inside of you and you know he's close.

“Fuck-Daddy, please!”

Your begging nearly sends him over the edge but he still manages to keep his thrusts hard and unrelenting. “You gonna cum for me, Princess?”

“F-Fuck yes, Sir-”

“You're not gonna keep me a secret, are you? Promise me. ” You knew what he was doing, forcing you into a mental state of complete disrepair as he bullied his cock into your cunt.

“F-Fuck," he hisses, "Answer me, baby- ‘mgonna fill your cunt so fucking fast,” he breathes out, before throwing his head back again.

“Promise!” You grit out, “I promise-” almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you eliciting wave after wave of delicious pleasure that has your mind rumbling.

“F-Fuck you're so tight- Fuck, Fuck, fuck-!” He exclaims before he's emptying himself inside of you. He's fucking you with the stamina of a caveman as he forces his seed all the way inside. “God you're so sexy, you know that?” He says, with his eyes still clenched shut as his aftershocks pass through his body. “So fucking hot.”

While his mind soars on the wings of his orgasm, that post nut clarit crashes through gradually. You breathe out steadily as you stare into nothingness. “I can't believe I gave our family company away like that,”

A hand is quick to pull you by the chin until you're looking up at him. Even with his wet and matted hair, along with the beads of sweat growing pregnant on his brow, Jaemin remains ever handsome. His smile ever present.

“It's still the family business, Honey.” Jaemin smirks, “Our family.”

♡♡♡ if you made it this far, thanks for reading

[seriallover]

Venus in Krittika: The Power To Separate🔪💔

Krittika, also known as "the Cutter" or "the Power to Separate," “to burn”, is a nakshatra associated with the themes of cutting, burning, and transformation. It belongs to the Rakshasa (demonic) group, which imbues it with aggressive, lustful, and sensual qualities. This nakshatra is influenced by Shukra (Venus), the guru of the Asuras (demons), enhancing its intense and passionate nature.

Krittika is split into two rashis: Aries and Taurus. When Venus is in Aries, it is considered to be debilitated. Even in Taurus, where Venus rules, the nakshatra's nature can still create challenges. This is because Krittika is a Sun nakshatra, and Sun and Venus are considered enemies in Vedic astrology. Also, the Sun exalts in Aries. The enmity between the Sun and Venus symbolizes the tension between spiritual duty and material pleasure, authority and harmony, selflessness and indulgence. While this placement is not exactly the same as having Venus combust, the overall energy and tension can feel quite similar.

The deity of Krittika Nakshatra is Agni, the lord of fire, and Kartikeya. 🔥It is an aggressive nakshatra, symbolized by a knife or razor with the intention of cutting. 🔪This is one reason why people with this nakshatra often excel as chefs or bladesmithings.

Those with Venus in Krittika are often prone to multiple relationships or marriages, as Agni had seven wives, and they may even be the cause of another couple's breakup. His Shakti is "to burn or consume in order to purify," using fire to remove impurities and reveal the truth. This is why affairs usually don't remain hidden when the third person involved has this placement. The power of fire can purify or destroy.

People with this nakshatra are driven by their sexual desires, much like Agni, who was cursed with insatiable lust after seeing the wives of the Saptarishis naked. The Moon is exalted at 3 degrees in this nakshatra, and those with dominant Moon energy often have tendencies towards infidelity, as I’ve mentioned.

Taurus is all about pleasure, and having Venus in this nakshatra can turn someone into a hedonist, driven by a desire to fulfill all their urges and obtain their absolute dreams. This can sometimes manifest in a greedy, egoistical manner.

Funny enough, the yoni consort of Krittika is Pushya, another nakshatra associated with cheating due to the conflict between Brihaspati and Soma over Tara, the wife of Brihaspati. Either way, people with Venus in Krittika tend to attract married people, now if they indulge in an affair or not, depends on them.🤷🏻‍♀️

1. Ariana Grande has her Venus in Krittika of Aries in the 5th house, which represents short romances and flings. Ariana Grande's love life pretty much sums up her songs "break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored”; “the boy is mine”. She's currently with Ethan Slater, whom she met while they were both married.

2. Johnny Depp and Amber Heard both have their Venus in Krittika of Taurus. Allegedly, when they started their relationship, both were in other relationships at the time. Throughout their marriage, there were accusations and evidence of infidelity. The darker side of this Nakshatra manifested in their tumultuous relationship, with incidents such as Johnny threatening that he will cut himself and him painting on walls with his blood.

3. Marlon Brando had his Venus in Krittika of Taurus in his 7th H. He was famous for his numerous affairs with both men and women. Even his ex-wife Rita Moreno, admitted that he cheated frequently during their relationship.

4. Henry VIII had his Venus in Krittika of Taurus in his D9 chart. He was known for marrying six times, starting with Catherine of Aragon, who was previously married to his brother. He pursued other marriages while still married. Anne Boleyn, his second wife, was famously executed by beheading in 1536 on charges of adultery and treason. He had his Venus in Rohini (the favorite wife) in his D1.

5. Russell Crowe, another individual with Venus in Krittika of Taurus in the 5th house, began an affair with Meg Ryan whom he met on the set of "Proof of Life" while she was married at the time.

6. Partynextdoor also, has his Venus in Krittika of Taurus in his D1 chart. Themes of infidelity frequently appear in his songs, such as in his song "SAVAGE ANTHEM."

[fatkish]

Demon Child Pt. 6

As Tengen walked you and Hinatsuru back he looked down at you with a question on his mind. “Hey kid, you know those pictures you were drawing?” He asked you. You looked up at him and nodded. “I’ve got a question, I saw that you drew someone with six eyes, who was that? You know them?” He had a bad feeling about that picture as well as the drawing of a man with red eyes and black hair, and he trusted his instincts. You thought for a minute before shaking your head. “I meet people in dreams” you replied. Hinatsuru was a bit lost. “Lord Tengen, forgive me but who is this child?” She politely asked. “I’ll tell you more once we get to the inn.” He replied.

Once you guys got to the inn, Tengen had you sit down in front of him and his wife. “Hinatsuru, this is y/n, a half demon child who has the ability to heal, y/n, this is one of my wives, Hinatsuru.” He introduced the two of you. You looked at her and smiled as she gently smiled at you. “Now y/n, can you tell me who these guys are?” Tengen asked as he held up the drawings of Muzan and Kokushibo. You looked at the drawing of Kokushibo and realized you forgot to add something. You then wrote the kanji for ‘upper moon 1’ inside the eyes of a close up of Kokushibo’s face. Tengen looked over your shoulder and his gut fell, he knew to trust his instincts.

“Y/n, who is that” he asked trying to mask his worry. “Kokushibo” you replied with a smile. “Y/n, where did you see this man?” Tengen asked. You then pointed at your head. “I see man when sleep” you replied. “Do you see these guys all the time.” Tengen asked you. You shook your head and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Y/n, do you think you could try and see one of them again for me?” Tengen asked. You nodded since you thought you would give it a try. Hinatsuru got a futon ready for you and got you all tucked in. After a bit you started to fall asleep. While you were unconscious, Tengen sent a message to Kagaya warning him of his fear that your able to somehow see and talk to demons when unconscious.

When you opened your eyes, you were again in that dark place. You got up and started to walk around before finding the fancy yet scary man again. You were scared but you didn’t think he could hurt you so you slowly walked over to him until you were right next to him. You placed your hand carefully on his thigh before he looked around and then down at you. “You again” he said. You were kinda scared and he sensed that so he decided to put on a kind face. “Well hello little one, what’s your name?” He kindly asked with a soft smile. “Y/n” you nervously replied. “What yours?” You asked him. “My name is Muzan Kibutsuji, how is it that you’re capable of telepathic communication?” He asked. You had no idea what that meant so you shrugged. “Don’t know” you replied.

“Very well, y/n, do you know what a demon is?” He asked. You were getting a bad feeling from him. “Demon bad, demon hurt people, hurt people is bad.” You replied. “What about humans, humans hurt each other. Are they not bad?” He asked. You thought for a moment. “Bad people bad.” You said. “But how do you know if a person is bad or not” he asked. You took a moment to think it over. You always seemed to sense when someone had bad intentions or intentions to hurt others. But what did you know, you’re just a child. You looked up at Muzan, “bad people feel bad, you feel bad” you said before letting go of his leg, overwhelmed by the bad intentions you felt from him.

You immediately woke up crying from fear. You saw Hinatsuru and jumped into her arms, crying. “Hey what’s wrong, what did you see?” She asked. “Bad man, I see bad man.” You said and pointed at the drawing of Muzan. “Do you know who this man is?” Tengen asked. You looked up at him through your tears and nodded. “Muzan” you said. Tengen nearly choked on the tea he was drinking. Hinatsuru gave you a meat bun to eat from the plate of them that they ordered to cheer you up. You ate while Tengen realized his fears were confirmed. Not only did you now know Kibutsuji, but somehow you were able to see or communicate with demons through your mind when you were unconscious. “Y/n, are you able to talk to these people when you see them?” Tengen asked. You nodded as you ate the meat bun.

Tengen was stumped. He decided to write a letter to Ubuyashiki confirming his theory about you and letting Kagaya know that you are able to communicate with demons and that you communicated with Kibutsuji. While he wrote the letter, you sat in Hinatsuru’s lap and ate meat buns while she comforted you. Eventually you got sleepy and fell asleep, this time not ending up in the dark telepathic void. Hinatsuru looked at Tengen with a worried look. As you slept with your head against her chest, she and Tengen exchanged worried looks, they both worried about your abilities and what they could mean for your future.

Drained from your telepathic abilities, you fell asleep for awhile and didn’t wake up until there were loud noises and screams. You followed the sounds out of the inn and found that many of the buildings were on fire and saw injured people and bodies everywhere. You followed the path of destruction to find Tengen and the other’s fighting a pair of demons. You ran up to Uzui and licked your hand before jumping and slapping his arm. Uzui could feel the poison’s effects leave his body and his body heal, you healed Tanjiro’s injuries as well by licking your other hand and slapping his. When you healed them, you also replenished their stamina. However by doing this, Gyutaro noticed you.

“And who might this little one be hmm?” He said as he looked at you. You looked at him, unafraid and unbothered by his appearance. You pointed at him, “mantis, mantis” you smiled, seeing as he reminded you of a praying mantis. “Huh, I guess he does kinda resemble a praying mantis. But anywho, y/n! You need to get out of here!” Tanjiro yelled at you. You understood and began to run away. “Oh no you don’t kid, you’re not going anywhere!” Gyutaro shouted. Gyutaro aimed for you and Tengen immediately got in the way of Gyutaro, giving you a chance to escape. You got out of the way and ran to hide but saw that Daki’s belts were causing a lot of damage.

While you were running away you tried to dodge Daki’s belts but were unsuccessful a few times resulting in a few deep cuts. You managed to get out of the way of the belts and took cover to avoid them. You looked down at your left shoulder which had the deepest cut. It was a large gash running from your left clavicle, over your shoulder and down to your shoulder blade. Looking over yourself, you counted 5 deep cuts in total and a bunch of smaller ones. You tried licking your wounds to heal them but realized that you can’t heal your own wounds. Hinatsuru found you and tore off parts of your clothes to make makeshift bandages. You cried as it hurt so much. Hinatsuru told you to stay put and not move from that spot before she left to help in the battle.

You wanted to help, you really did, but you knew that if you tried, you’d get hurt and that would make the others worry. So you ran and hid. The fight continued and lots of buildings were destroyed in the battle. You closed your eyes and wished that Gyomei was here. Him or Kagaya, they were always able to calm you down and you felt comfort in their presence. You deeply wished that Gyomei was here, or that you had his strength and were able to help in the fight. You didn’t want your friend to die, you didn’t want them to get hurt. What you didn’t know, was that your intense desire to help Tengen and the others, created a healing bubble.

This bubble swallowed up the battlefield where Tengen was fighting. It healed him and Tanjiro as well as Zenitsu and Inosuke. Every injury they got was healed in seconds, allowing them to fight at their full potential. As you cried for your friends, you wanted the evil demons to go away. You wanted Daki and Gyutaro to go away. That’s when your blood demon art activated again. The bubble began to create swirling invisible slashes that cut into only Daki and Gyutaro. The slashes didn’t hurt anyone except for the two demon siblings. As Tanjiro and Tengen fought Gyutaro, Gyutaro was slowed down by the invisible slashes. Daki’s belts were quickly destroyed and torn before they could do any damage to anyone.

Hinatsuru had climbed up onto a roof with a large weapon holding hundreds of kunai. As she got in range, she pulled the trigger releasing a bunch of Kunai that shot at Gyutaro. The kunai paired with the slashes ended up debilitating Gyutaro and slowing him down enough for Tanjiro to cut his head off. At the same time, Zenitsu and Inosuke were able to decapitate Daki. “You bastards!” Gyutaro shouted. Suddenly Gyutaro realesed his blood demon art, it tore up the entire area. “Tanjiro get out of here!” Uzui shouted as he sensed the attack. Tengen tried to deflect the attack but was unsuccessful somewhat.

You had blacked out and when you awoke, you found that the entire area had been destroyed. Zenitsu had been trapped under some rubble, Inosuke was injured, Tanjiro was with Nezuko and Uzui was poisoned. You decided to help Inosuke first. You licked your hand and slapped him, watching as his abdomen knit itself back together. You left and went over to Tanjiro and licked your hand before touching his face. His wounds began to heal and you started to feel very dizzy and tired. You tried to go to help Uzui but you fell over. “Y/n, oh my goodness, you got hurt, are you alright ?” He asked worriedly. You nodded, not really wanting to talk from the pain. “Do you want to go see Mr Uzui? I’ll help you.” Tanjiro said as he lifted you up into his arms being careful of your wounds.

Tanjiro carried you over to Tengen with Nezuko following him. Tengen was laid up against some rubble, he had cuts all over him and parts of him were purple with poison from Gyutaro’s last attack. You crawled out of Tanjiro’s arms and fell to the ground before crawling over to rest your head on Tengen’s knee. “Hey there squirt, think ya could fix me up?” He asked. You licked your hand and slapped his arm. His wives watched as his wounds stitched themselves together and the purple faded from him. “Well all right, I’ll be damned, it was a good idea to bring you along, if I didn’t, I’d be missing a hand.” Tengen laughed. “Whaaa, you lost a hand!” Suma cried.

As Tengen and his wives talked, Tanjiro left to go find the demons. You laid your head on Tengen’s knee, too tired to move or do anything. “Heya squirt, you doing okay?” Tengen asked. “They look really tired” Makio said. They all looked at you and saw that you were knocked out, sleeping with your head resting on Tengen’s thigh. Tengen smiled and pet your head. “Ya know, it might not be so bad to maybe have some kids, at least, if they turn out like this kid” Tengen said as he softly smiled as he looked at you. His wives all smiled as Hinatsuru picked you up. “Hm? I see. Really now? Upper six, eh? Unfortunately that would be the lowest of the upper ranks. Well, six or not, you still defeated an upper rank, so I believe congratulations are in order. Though it was six…” Obanai said as he walked up to Tengen and his wives.

“I guess you’ve earned some praise.” Obanai said. “I don’t know if that was a compliment or not, but thanks.” Tengen said. “What he said” Suma cried. “You took your sweet time getting here.” Makio commented. “Yeah, you showed up after all the fighting! How convenient!” Suma yelled at Obanai only to be scared off by Kaburamaru hissing at her. She jumped back and clung onto Tengen. “It’s good that you’ve managed to receive few injuries, I guess the demon child has some use, how long until you return to duty?” Obanai asked Tengen. “Actually, I plan on retiring, I’m sure the master will understand. Besides, you shouldn’t be so harsh about the kid, the only reason Rengoku is alive and I’m in one piece is thanks to them.” Tengen said.

As they talked, meanwhile, far away, Ubuyashiki received the news of upper six’s defeat. “You’re positive? They defeated them, two upper rank demons? You have my thanks, Tengen, Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu, Inosuke, y/n! One hundred years, it took one hundred years for something to finally change, and it actually happened. Amane…” Kagaya asked his wife. “Yes?” She spoke as she held him. “Don’t you see? This must be an omen. Fate is about to take a dramatic turn for us. The effects will be widespread. Everything will be shaken to its core. And eventually he will feel it as well. Muzan Kibutsuji… we will defeat you.” Kagaya said. “Our generation will put an end to you without fail, and then you, the sole blemish of my family, will be gone.” Kagaya stated happily.

[dark-night-hero]

「In the stars」 Tengen Uzui

↳ In which right after the fight that cost him serious and fatal wounds, Tengen and his wives, alongside the Kamado siblings have encountered a rather strange demon. (Warnings of ooc behaviour)

It was rather unexpected. After all the fight with the upper moon six just ended, and a little while Nezuko have cured the poison within his body, was the side effect of it could possibly be the one responsible for his hallucinations right now?

Casually strolling in the chaotic field left behind the fight was a someone, something in a form of a human figure. Possessing a rather familiar and one of a kind (hair color) locks, their lips on a thin line, their reddish yet (eye color) iris calmly scan the field. All dressed in a rather flashy outfit, totally not fitted on the current field and situation.

He almost didn't recognised it, more like refuse to recognise it. But no matter now hard he tried to deny it. No matter how much he try to forget about it, no matter how many seasons and people have gone by. There have always been someone in the back of his mind that he cannot seem to forget no matter how hard he tried.

"Died already? Doma-sama is going to get disappointed again." The figure spoke in a rather emotionless tone, looking around the field, their reddish (eye color) iris scan the people on their side. They just stare at them with a rather bored look in their face and just stood there as if thinking hardly of what do to.

At the same time, there was no mistaking it. The looks, the vioce, the figure, except with the flashy outfit. There was no mistaking it, it was you. "Tengen-sama?"

"What should I do?" The figure across the demon Slayers and shinobu blink, then burst into a fit of wicked laughter. "Doma-sama hates it when I ruined the clothes he gave me, but he also told me to kill all people who've seen me just in case they go around telling other about me.. for what reason was that again?" They then starts to think real hard. "I can't seem to remember. But this means I'm free to do whatever I want with them? Right?" With a gentle smile on their face, they started walking at them.

And then they started dashing at them. With a wicked smile on their face, they almost manage to grab Suma who just finished wailing upon Tengen's recovery from the poison, on the face with their claws but Tengen who was quick on his feet manage to shield her away from the what it seems like was a demon despite his current state. Nevertheless, "(First name)?"

"That's weird." The demon spoke, tilting their head to the side casually right in front of Tengen and the rest who is now alerted with your presence but was in a bit of exhaustion. "A human with a demon as one of your acquaintance??" The demon blink, "Also, no one but Doma-sama knows my name, how come you knew it. Interesting." The demon smiled wickedly but still damn beautiful for a demon.

Without missing a beat, the demon was right in front of his, their face only a millimetres away from his. "I was about to leave you alone because by far you're the most vulnerable along the group and oh, how I hate coming after the weakest" the demon laugh. "But you know too much." In a blink of an eye, the demon were ready to grab him by the face and went for the kill but then his wives grabbed him back.

"Tengen-sama!" "Tengen-sama what are you doing?!" "Tengen-sama snap out of it!" His worried wife cried for him as he watch Tanjiro take position in front of him, ready to take on the demon right in front of them with his strength. He was aware that the demon in front of them were not that strong, even a newbie could take on this weakass demon. "Wait." Tengen spoke. "I'll be the one to finish them." "Tengen-sama!" "There is something I need to know." He spoke before slight pushing Tanjiro out of the way and casually stood right in front of the now frowning demon.

"What happened to you?" In that single sentence, everyone could tell there was a hint of surprised and sadness that comes with it which was very unlikely of the flamboyant attitude of his. And the demon who frowning frown even harder. "Was I supposed to know you or something? Lucky for you, I don't remember a thing." Honestly, it was sarcastic.

"Who did this to you?" Weapon in hand, the sound Hashira started walking towards the demona and the demon who was laughing in their mind taking his as an opportunity just gave him a rather confused face, wanting to rip of the sympathetic look on his bloody face with their claw once he get close enough.

"(First name)." He was walking close, just right within the demons reach. "I watched you died." It was right above whisper which causes the demon to halt. Why does he look to sad and broken when he said that? "Tell me, who did this to you?" "Tell me who dug up my spouse corpse and turn them into such wicked creature."

At the same time, as if to end ones suffering, the demons head went flying without a sound, without pain, it was all nothing but silence.

"How plain." You blink and look up away from the tea cup right in front of you to the owner of the voice. Right in front of you was a rather flashy and handsome guy who seems to be in a same age as you. "They want me to have this plain person as my spouse? How insolence." He scoffs at you. Nevertheless the just smile at him and never look away from those maroon iris of his.

Perhaps it was your smile, or maybe he was lying to himself, because despite the plain looking clothes you have right now, you're glowing. "What's your name?" "(First name)." "Just (First name)?" "For a family who will either give up their child for a cult or for a renounce shinobi clan, I'd rather not use it." You spoke, smile never once fluttering as you continue to look at him unbothered. In the midst of silence he suddenly spoke.

"(First name) Uzui." For a moment, he saw those (eye color) iris widen before he turn his back into you. "You better start using that now, my soon to be spouse." With a smirk on his face, he closed the door behind him, missing the rather shocked look on your face that was eventually replaced with relief. Hands clenched underneath the table in victory.

Being the soon to be spouse of one of the two remaining siblings of the clan allows you to live in peace and unbothered life. With your husband rather busy with his training and would often come to the room late, the relationship between the two of you were rather awkward. Still, you don't really mind. It was more peaceful this way.

"What are you doing?" In the midst of you seing your sword back and front, you gave him a side eye but never stopped on your training. "Training?" "What for?" "Have you ever heard of demon slayers?" You asked back before looking away at him on your peripheral vision once you saw him sat down on the corner. "I think I have heard a thing or two about them. What about it?" "My clan as formerly a demon slayer clan before we switch into being a shinobi clan. I'm trying to revive our old breathing style." You spoke casually with a shrug.

"Huh, how interesting. You don't look like the type of person who could handle such thing." You were rather frail looking after all. "Honestly you're right." You laugh and stop swinging your sword and went to look at your soon to be husband. And as soon as you does, he blink. There you are in the middle of the backyard, laughing with sweat running down all the way from your forehead down to your chin. Dressed in plain clothes, Tengen doesn't think that makes you less attractive.

"But it doesn't mean I can't, doesn't mean I should give up. A lot of innocent people died in the hands of demons. I believe it's worth the try. Somehow." "..." Seeing him looking rather not interested, you just shrug and started swinging your sword again. "This breathing style that you speak of, what is it?" Poundering for a few moments, you shake your head ans chuckle, rather confusing the man right in front of you. "Sound breathing."

The first time Tengen Uzui have seen you in a rather flashy, flamboyant air was at your wedding ceremony. Being the first spouse of one of the possible next leader of the clan, you were dressed up in the most finest clothes and accessories. Complimenting your already beautiful and attractive appearance that your rather plain clothes could never.

"Are you truly my supposed to be spouse to be?" He asked on a rather joking matter once you reached the altar. "Not used seeing me like this?" You smirk at him, well aware of your attractive and flashy appearance than usual. "You should get used to it, husband."

Despite the rough start of your relationship, this got better once the two of you have gotten married at the age of 18. The two of you started getting to know each other and started spending more time with one other. At some point, you could tell that the two of you have gone closer than the two of you could imagine.

"Here." Looking at what he have on hand. It was a bunch of rather plain looking clothes. "???" "Use this." "Don't you hate it when I'm looking plain?" You laugh nevertheless take the clothes he have on hand and started putting it on your dresser. Then a whisper came across the room. "But I hate it more when other people kept looking at you." "Tengen. Are you jealous?" "If I do admit that I am jealous, would you do as I say?"

"How plain." "I wonder who's fault is that." You laugh in the midst of your own training as your husband went to spectate per usual. And then in the middle of the training, your inside starts to hurt, an intense quick pain spread throughout your body causing you to stagger forward with a gasp. "Woah there." Your husband, quick on his feet was there to catch you. "What was that?" "Sorry, I think I kind of went overboard with my training today." You laugh.

Entering the your shared room, you have noticed the rather unusual mood inside. "Darling, is their something wrong?" You quickly approach the huge man sitting down on the side of the bed. Then he whispered something under his breath, something no ordinary person would hear but all thanks to the breathing style you're currently doing, you were able to hear it. "I want to kill them." "..." "I badly want to kill them." "..." "But they were the only family I have left. What should I do?"

You don't know what happened, he was never the one to talk about his family in the first place so you naturally learn not to ask nor talk about it. Still seeing the man who was usually high and mighty in such rather confused and in a state of frustration. You pull him into an embrace. "Do what your heart wants you to do. No matter the consequences, I'll be by your side. Aren't I your spouse?"

"I don't think I could marry anyone again." As his hand run down your bare skin, leaving butterfly kisses all over your collar to your face, he spoke. "Doesn't the Uzui clan practices polygamy?" You clarified as you push him away from your face. "We do, but I only want you as my spouse. You're enough." "Don't be silly Tengen." You laugh despite the sharp pain on your chest. "Rather than that, if you'd like, I'll teach you a thing or two about our breathing style. What do you say?"

Your days with Tengen were rather short yet you could say it was one of the most happiest moments of your life. Honestly you never really thought about, only on this day, as you stare at the rather cloudy night as you lay there on the ground unmoving, unconsciously clinging into ever bit of consciousness left as you.

He was loud, he could also be a bit of clingy sometimes. He was too flashy and flamboyant that you hate him sometimes. He could also be a bit blunt and rude sometimes it hurt your feelings. "He was really.... annoying. I love him anyway." Your pale and cold lips curling up. Mind slowly going blank as you could no longer feel most of your body parts nor the pain on your side.

It was such a shame you wouldn't be able to see him. Still, you'd rather not let him see you in such state. You even wish he wouldn't be able to find you after this.

"(First name)?" Although you have gone numb, you could still hear him even fron afar with his footsteps. "(First name)." You could hear the way his voice tremble. "I'm sorry I'm late. The mission went long as expected I-" "Were the kids... that lived in the... gasp, village safe?" "Yes... yes my spouse they are safe. All thanks to you they are safe" "I'm glad." "My spouse, let's get you home and treated." "Tengen..." "...Yes My Spouse?" You tried, with ever bit of strength left to open your eyes.

"There was... a marriage proposal... that came... recently..." "My spouse we talked about this. Enough with the nonsense-" "Tengen." "..." "They... they of..fered the younger sis... but I think... Suma... the older sis...ter is much fit..-" "Okay okay, hush, stop speaking. I get it. Let's get you fixed up." "Don't cry." You smile at him, wanting to brush off the tears falling down his eyes despite the urge to close your eyes. "Don't... cry Ten...gen." "Don't leave me. Fuck. Let's get you fixed up. We're going back, okay? Just stay with me."

Holding you in his arms, trying at least to keep you warm. He went as fast and gentle as he could. Cursing himself over and over again. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to come home with you still waiting from him on your shared room, welcoming him with a gentle and warm smile on your face. You were supposed to be laughing at him at his attempts to be clumsy whenever you would teach him the remains of your clans breathing style. Tease him for not being able to catch up whenever the two of you would went out for a sprinting race.

It was supposed to be like that, not like this. Oh God, not like this. Not like this as those (eye color) iris slowly lose the sign of life on it. You were rapidly cooling down in his arms. It was not supposed to be like this. Why does it have to be you. Fuck. Why does it have to be you who run into a demon in such time.

"Tengen..." "Yes My Spouse?" Come to think of it, you never said it to each other, right? "I... lo..ve you." And he stopped, it was barely above whispered. He stopped as you said those words, he stopped as your hand slowly fall of on your side. He look down, there you seems to be sleeping peacefully on his arms. As if you were just asleep. Drenched in your blood and sweat. He lean down and give you a kiss on the forehead.

Then it rains. As if sympathising with the man who just lost the love of his life. Leaving his cries and curses drown in the rain. It was the death of his beloved. Sometimes that he would never ever forget. Something he learned something about that will change his life forever. A lesson.

As your previous life flashed right in front of you. As your head and body starts to disintegrate.

"Who did this to you?" Tears then starts to fall. "The second upper moon, Doma." You spoke with a gentle smile on your face. "He was the leader of the cult I was supposed to be sacrifice to." You were running out of time, you knew but that didn't stop you from talking. "Digged up my corpse for him to consume but found it a waste for him to consume so he turned me into his puppet instead, for entertainment." You laugh like it was nothing.

"Tengen." You called him out gently. "You have a lovely wives by your side. I'm glad." You smile at him. How strange was it to have a talking head, but none of the two of you mind. "Don't give me that look." "You're leaving me again." "Much better than a wandering demon puppet." "..." "Thank you." "..." "I'm glad to see you again, Tengen."

As you completely turn into ashes and blown away by the wind. Tengen sat down on the ground. "Tengen-sama!" With his wives quickly surrounding him. He smiled a bit and reassured them he was okay before looking up on the sky filled with stars.

Tengen, if Gods permits. I'd like to meet and fall in love with you on my next life. But for now, I'll be watching you among the stars.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

: this was just supposed to be an image. I haven't watched the latest season so I think Tengen might be a out of character but please do bare with it. I just saw a clips and reels about the aftermath of the able with the uppermoon six, you know that nezuko setting him in flames and his relationship with his wives and thought 'oh wait what if he has a first spouse none of them knew about?'

[milliesfishes]

Ahhh can you please do Billy x reader who are struggling to get pregnant ☹️☹️ OR OR MAYBE a part 2 to your fic about Billy x reader who had a stillborn maybe reader gets pregnant again and they both freak out? I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE ANGST BTW MUAH

ty lovey!!!! ⋆౨ৎ𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓰𝓰𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽⋆౨ৎ 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭

Never before in your life had you been subscribed to old wives' tales. Young and naive, you always thought them purposeless stories born of boredom. Now as you were struggling with fertility, you realized they hadn't been entertainment. They'd been bringers of hope.

Indeed at this point there was nary a thing you hadn't tried. Potions, prayers, positions... you were running out of options. Billy was endlessly supportive, indulging every whim you introduced. It was only when you became distressed over your methods that he stepped in.

"Baby...stress is gonna make it worse," he murmured, holding you close and dropping his lips to the top of your head, rocking you back and forth. You'd been obsessing over moon cycles lately, working yourself into tears when you'd realized the supposed prime fertile days had passed for the time being. "It'll happen when it happens, sweetheart. All we can do is keep tryin."

When visions of cradles and swaddled bundles had filled your dreams, you'd confided in Billy immediately. He'd been more than receptive, and thus every conversation began. Late into the night, sweaty from the aftermath of your baby-making efforts, you'd laid snuggled in his arms and spoken excitedly of baby names, what it'd be like to have a little one.

The arrival of your monthly had rendered you devastated, but you'd kept up hope. It was only the first time. Surely soon your belly would begin to round, and you'd become joyful at the notion of the impending life growing inside.

But the second month bore no results. Nor did the third. Six months passed without any results, and with each monthly you became more despondent. It was taking a toll on Billy as well, you knew. But he showed no sign of it, holding you close, making love to you as many times as you needed. He never grew weary of reassuring you, making sure every motion was made with love.

He was endlessly patient with you, and it only made you love him more. There was one day in particular that he came home to you in tears on the bathroom floor, holding yourself around the waist, keeled over and sobbing. Immediately he got to his knees, gathering you in his arms and murmuring sweet nothings into your hair. "Oh my love...c'mere...oh, sweet girl, it's okay. I've gotcha darlin'. Whatsa matter?"

"I thought...maybe...I was...that there was a baby..." you hiccupped, words coming out in shuddering bursts. "But I just...got my...monthly...and I was so excited...and it hurts."

"Honey," Billy murmured, rubbing your back. "'m so sorry, sweetheart. I know it hurts. Everything's hurtin'. But you're gonna be okay."

"It's been months," you sniffled, tears soaking his shirt. "Months of trying and nothing. I don't know what's wrong with me-"

"Uh uh." Billy shook his head, shifting you in his arms to a more comfortable position. "Don't go blamin' yourself for a damn thing. 's not your fault. For all we know, it's me, sweet girl. Could be somethin' in my system."

"I want a baby. Your baby," you murmured, voice edging on sorrow as you fisted his shirt.

"I know...oh I know sweetheart," he whispered, kissing your head and sliding his arms more fully under you. "C'mere...c'mon let's getcha comfy."

Billy scooped you up with that strength that always made you swoon, carrying you with heavy footsteps to the bedroom. The next thing you knew, there was a soft mattress under your back, and his warm body was cradling your back. He nosed soft kisses into your hair, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders.

Though your anxiety was high, you allowed yourself to relax into his arms and succumb to his kisses. Eventually you calmed, the waves of emotion slow and steady and buried underneath the weight of his arms. You were perfectly still, practically melting into him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, cheek pressed against his chest. His hand twitched in your hair, and then slid down to your shoulder.

"What're you sorry for?" he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

You closed your eyes. "You deserve someone who can give you babies."

"Honey." Billy rubbed your back, shaking his head. "Don't say that." You looked up, teary eyed, and he leaned down, kissing your forehead. "I ain't in this for babies. I'm in it for you."

Somewhere subconsciously you had known that but hearing him say it out loud nearly sent you into tears for an entirely different reason. Billy shifted you so your head was resting on his chest, pushing his hand soothingly into your hair and rubbing your scalp. "Sweetheart, if we're meant to have a baby it'll happen. But I'm just happy to have you."

Sighing softly, you snuggled into his chest, kissing him over his heart. His words struck a chord in you, and they were undeniably true. In all your worry and heartache, you had forgotten what was at the core of your desire. It was love. Love for him, love so powerful you wanted to create a life with him.

Your hand rubbed on his chest once, and he seemed to understand, tightening his arms around you. "Baby or no baby, you're my girl and that ain't ever gonna change. I love you."

"I love you," you echoed, breathing in and out, smiling at his hum of approval. "I love you and all that you are to me."

A baby would come when it needed to. For now you were merely grateful to have him.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

looking from a window above, it's like a story of love, can you hear me? came back only yesterday, i'm moving further away, want you near me

oneshots

Can’t Get Enough of You Baby ✿ -> You're trying to get ready for a night out with your friends, but Bradley gets distracted easily once he sees you. Same Time Tomorrow? ✿ -> Bradley comes home after training, only to find that you're both in need of a shower. Uptown Girl -> Bradley is in love with the admiral's daughter. He needs to win her heart the best way he knows how - serenading her with the help of his friends. Merry Christmas, Dad -> Bradley's step-daughter doesn't know what to get him for Christmas, until she comes up with the perfect idea. Don't Be a Tease ✿ -> It's a hot summer day in San Diego, and you and Bradley are struggling to stay cool. Things only heat up further when Bradley sees your solution to beating the heat. Neon Moon -> You're drowning your sorrows after calling off your engagement on Valentine's Day in a Mexican restaurant in San Diego. Alongside you, Bradley Bradshaw sits at the bar, going through a similar situation. Can’t Help Falling In Love -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do. Remind Me �� -> Bradley Bradshaw is one hell of an aviator. He's one of the best at what he does. You only wish the same could be said of his performance as your husband. The Coronado Story -> Your marriage to Bradley was fraught with issues -- you married far too young to a man who was far too immature. Several years have passed, and now, you're engaged to the perfect gentleman. Everything is going wonderfully in the days leading up to your wedding - until Bradley reappears into your life. All-American Girl -> Bradley's every part the doting dad to your daughter Tatum, but after talking to some of the other wives on base in your mom's group, you're worried he may be hiding his true feelings about fatherhood. Easy Like Sunday Morning ✿ -> Lazy Sunday mornings are few and far between for you and Bradley. When they do happen, you make the best of them. Hurricane -> Bradley's regretted breaking off his relationship with you for months, but when he sees you walking into the country club after his round of golf, he knows he has to fix things.

Welcome Home, Rooster Bradshaw -> It's been a long six months away from home for Bradley, and you're going to give him the welcome you both deserve.

series

Angels Don't Always Have Wings ✿ - ongoing -> Bradley Bradshaw is a struggling first-baseman in the major leagues. He's had bad season after bad season, until he met you, his angel.

Making the Grade ✿ - ongoing -> Bradley returns to civilian life and starts his new mission - teaching second grade.

minors dni. | anything ✿ contains smut/sexual themes.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Did Sun Myung Moon lie on the witness stand in federal court in May 1982?

▲ Sun Myung Moon with children from three different women. This photograph was taken on January 5, 1965 at the Chongpa-dong Church in Seoul. Sung-jin Moon, whose mother was Seon-gil Choi, is on the left. He was born in April 1946. Hee-jin Moon is on the right. He was born in Tokyo on August 17, 1955. His mother was Myung-hee Kim. The younger children in the photo are Ye-Jin and Hyo-Jin. They are standing in front of their mother, Hak Ja Han.

_____________________________________

Thursday, May 27, 1982

New York — The Rev. Sun Myung Moon refused yesterday to answer questions about the nature of what he claimed were “divine revelations” that enabled him to lead his followers, but he was ordered by a federal judge to answer other queries concerning the policies and practices of the controversial Unification Church that he heads.

Moon was subpoenaed to testify in the nonjury trial of a $9-million claim filed by one of his followers, Anthony Colombrito, 30, of Brick Town, N.J. Colombrito has charged that Galen Kelly of Kingston, N.Y., kidnaped him in 1979 and attempted to “deprogram” him from the teachings of the Unification Church.

Moon’s attorney, Charles Stillman, repeatedly tried to persuade U.S. District Court Judge Richard Owen, who is presiding over the trial, to allow Moon to invoke his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination and First Amendment rights concerning the separation of church and state.

Stillman argued that any such testimony could hamper the appeal of Moon’s conviction last week on federal tax evasion charges. However, Owen allowed Moon to invoke constitutional rights only nine times during his three hours on the witness stand and warned the 62-year-old Korean evangelist that he could be fined or imprisoned if he refused to answer questions the court ordered him to.

Owen let Moon refrain from answering questions about his ownership of the 50-foot pleasure yacht New Hope and about the frequency and nature of what Moon called “divine revelations” that enable him to make decisions about the Unification Church and the engagement and marriages of its members.

Kelly’s lawyer, John T. DeGraff Jr. of Albany, said he had subpoenaed Moon as a reluctant defense witness because he was trying to prove that the church was not a bona fide religion and that it used “brainwashing methods” to benefit Moon and his top aides.

“If it’s a sham then it’s not a religion, and if it’s not a religion, there is no church, and if there is no church I have no basis for appeal,” Stillman said of the possibility that Moon may be retried on the tax evasion case, which involved the question of whether certain money was tax-exempt church funds or Moon’s own.

Owen agreed and said Moon didn’t have to answer the question about revelations.

Moon did testify, however, that he was not the only one to receive “divine revelations.” He said most church members had them. “You have inspirations after you achieve a certain stage in religious faith,” he added.

Moon’s testimony marked the first time that he has appeared on an American witness stand since coming to the United States seven years ago. He did not testify at his own trial in U.S. District Court and left the country two days before he was to have been subpoenaed in May, 1977, by a congressional subcommittee probing possible links between Moon’s many holdings and the Korean CIA.

Joy Irvine, a spokeswoman for the church, said Moon had left the country to wed 200 couples in England. He returned one week after the subcommittee investigation was concluded and its subpoena powers abolished.

Earlier yesterday, Colombrito had asked to drop the charges against Kelly when it became apparent that Moon would be subpoened to testify. He said it was an “injustice” for Moon to testify and that he was dropping the suit “out of natural love for my spiritual parent.”

Owen, however, denied the request, noting that the Unification Church was picking up Colombrito’s legal tab and that Kelly had spent between $100,000 and $200,000 in legal fees. He said the church had a reputation of “resorting to harassing lawsuits” to discourage deprogrammers.

Colombrito filed the suit in 1979, charging that he was abducted from a Kingston parking lot at his parents’ request and asked to join a seven-day deprograming effort. At the time, Colombrito said, he was studying to qualify for a church program that would lead to his designation as a minister. His complaint alleges violations of his civil rights.

_____________________________________

The Boston Globe

Thursday, May 27, 1982

Under the threat of being jailed for contempt, Rev. Sun Myung Moon testified yesterday that he and other Unification Church leaders decide which members can marry and when they can have sex. “It is in accordance with the principles of our religion,” he testified in federal court.

_____________________________________

Tarrytown Daily News

Friday, May 28, 1982

A federal appeals court today approved the dismissal of a suit in which the Rev. Sun Myung Moon has testified that he met and talked with Jesus, Buddha and Moses.

The court said it would overturn a district court judge’s refusal to dismiss the suit if Moon’s Unification Church and the “Moonie” who filed the suit agreed never again to sue the defendant, “deprogrammer” Galen Kelly, whom they accused of kidnapping.

The church and the complainant, Anthony Colombrito, said they would agree.

Moon has been subjected to two days of questioning since Judge Richard Owen denied Colombrito’s attempt to dismiss his case for $9 million. Colombrito said he wanted to spare Moon from having to testify.

But the defense objected, saying the church was filing — and then dropping — such suits to harass its opponents.

The defense, trying to show Moon’s church is a “sham” operated to enrich Moon and his aides, questioned the 62-year-old Korean evangelist about his faith.

He said Thursday, “I have the possibility of becoming the real messiah” although he did not actually call himself the messiah.

Prior to the appeals court’s intervention Thursday, John DeGraff had time to ask Moon about what the church leader said was his first conversation with Jesus on Easter in 1936 when he was 16 years old.

The question led to a stormy court argument that was settled when Moon said through a Korean interpreter:

“I am willing to answer that question. I met Jesus Christ.”

Under further questioning by DeGraff, Moon acknowledged also meeting and communicating on numerous occasions with Moses and Buddha.

Asked how he knew it was Jesus, Moon replied, “I remembered him from his holy picture and he said he was Jesus Christ.”

‘‘You not only talked to him? You saw him?” asked DeGraff. “And what did Jesus Christ say to you?”

“He requested me to help him in the salvation of the universe,” Moon said.

DeGraff also asked Moon over continued legal objections whether the Korean met and talked with Moses ‘‘about his relationship with Israel,” “his role as a messiah” and ‘‘the holy Bible.”

Moon testified he could not recall the first time he met Buddha but he estimated it was “several decades ago.”

When asked how he knew it was Buddha, Moon replied that Buddha identified himself and that he also “recognized him from Buddhas in temples.”

When pressed to tell how he communicated with the religious figures, Moon said it was partially carried out “in words” and “from heart to heart.”

DeGraff later touched off another controversy between lawyers when he asked Moon how many marriages and divorces he has gone through and if he had fathered more than the 13 children now in his family.

To overcome legal objections, DeGraff claimed that Moon and his current wife are represented under Unification Church doctrine as the “true parents” whose mission is to “help the restorations of man to his original status before the fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.”

Owen permitted DeGraff to continue the questioning on grounds that if the church has “spiritual parents,” then “purity” was a factor in determining the sincerity of their religious beliefs.

Moon, whose Unification Church owns property in the towns of Greenburgh and New Castle, testified that he divorced his first wife in Korea in 1944 after he fathered two children by her. He indicated that the divorce resulted from a difference of religious views.

[Fact check: Moon divorced his first wife, Seon-gil Choi, in January 1957 according to official papers. He had ONE child with her, Sung Jin Moon born in 1946. He had a well-known illegitimate son, Hee-Jin Moon, with Myung-Hee Kim in August 1955. Another illegitimate child, daughter Dong-sook, was born in March 1955 – mother unknown. Dong-sook was announced as a “True Child’ by Hyung-Jin Sean Moon at his father’s funeral. In 1960 Sun Myung Moon proclaimed the Holy Wedding of the “True Parents” with Hak Ja Han. Moon had another illegitimate son with Annie Choi. Sam Park was born in January 1966 in Washington, DC.]

Asked if he married and divorced another Korean woman, Moon answered that he had never married the second woman. [There is evidence that Moon had a church wedding ceremony with Myung-hee Kim in Seoul on June 30, 1955 before he sent her off to Japan to give birth in Tokyo on August 17, 1955. Annie Choi has stated she had a secret wedding with Sun Myung Moon.]

▲ Myung-hee Kim with her son, Hee-Jin Moon, in about 1960 when he was taken away from her.

When asked if he had a son by the second woman, Moon replied, “Yes, I met her during the Korean War.”

However, the judge sustained objections to the question and it was not made clear if Moon had acknowledged that he had fathered a son by the woman.

Moon’s lawyer has expressed fear that his client’s testimony will incriminate him and hurt his chances to appeal his conviction [in] nine days on federal tax evasion [and document forgery] charges.

However, Judge Owen has contended that Moon’s testimony is important to the trial because it bears on whether the church is a bona fide religious organization.

He said one reason many young people join the Unification Church is because they believe in Moon’s conversations with Jesus, Buddha and Moses. If the conversations did not take place, the judge said, it is important to know.

_______________________________________

Philadelphia Inquirer

Friday, May 28, 1982

Although Mr. Moon was animated in his discussion of his religious beliefs, he became nearly inaudible when DeGraff asked him if he had fathered an illegitimate son.

“Do you have a son by her?” DeGraff asked, referring to the child’s mother, and Mr. Moon answered, “Yes, I met her during the Korean War.”

After the hearing, Mr. Moon’s personal lawyer, Charles Stillman, told reporters the religious leader flatly denied fathering an illegitimate son.

“I talked with Mr. Moon, and he said he knew the woman during the Korean War. He did not say he fathered the child, and he did not father an illegitimate child.”

_______________________________________

Sun Myung Moon claimed authority through his “meeting with Jesus”

The six ‘wives’ of Sun Myung Moon

Moon’s first wife, Choi Seon-gil, and Kim Deok-jin interviewed

Sun Myung Moon’s third wife – Kim Myung-hee

The lie that Kim Myung-hee was raped in Japan

Dong-sook, born in 1955 and listed as a ‘True Child’, was married to Sung-jin Moon

Mother Jones: Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child, Sam Park

[theunfairfolk]

ok what about swan maidens are they more in of a cursed situation like werewolves?

or are they actually swans wanting human partners?

sorry my understanding of this myth creature is more from an animated movie than actual folklores

oh sincere! sincerity! oh shit i was being funny! i could've been infodumping this whole time?? fuck

swan maidens come from a variety of fairy tales, the most famous (european) one probably being Swan Lake. in that case it was a curse situation, so a sorcerer had cast a spell on them to only be women when the light of the moon touched them. the rest of the times they were swans. this is cause they ran away from arranged marriages or cheated on their boyfriends or shit (the sorcerer was a sexist read The Black Swan by mercedes lackey for an amazing adaptation of swan lake). there's also stories of boy swans though! like The Six Swans (also bc of a curse). and there's leda and the swan where zeus turns into a bird to seduce* this woman, leda.

overall i know of instances of individual characters transforming into various birds as a power they have but i dont know of any staple myths about Swan People as like. a race. maybe cause we have angels for that niche? or maybe cause we have bird ladies in the form of harpies and stuff. most stories of bird people are about curses.

AND to answer your previous question about selkies: they are a different class of "underwater person" than mermaids. mermaids are permanently half fish half person, selkies are either 100% seal or 100% person; they have a magic seal skin they put on to transform. you could trap them as humans if you steal it. a lot of stories about them center around fishermen trapping them as their wives. 👎

*i am using this term delicately, how consensual the sex was is up to interpretation

[ifuckingloveryoshu]

CANTO 6 PART 3 SPOILERS

Im beyond pissed, tumblr crashed in the middle of me doing this so this is going to be so much shorter than I want it to be. NON RYOSHU RELATED POST ABOUT THE HEATHCLIFF. DON'T TAKE WHAT I SAY AS FACT I AM NOT QUALIFIED FOR THIS. LOOK AT THE LINKS I CITE FOR MORE INFORMATION! You can click them when their mentioned. Im not citing in the proper format. This was done on 5 hours of sleep, two eggs, and a box of banana milk.

The Erlkonig or Erlking is this figure in German Mythology who kidnapps children. When he touches you, he kills you. This poem made by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe then adapted to this song is what you see. Erlkoning Heathcliff is trying to intice Heathcliff to die by telling him that it's his fault Cathy is dead. All identities refer to the sinner as "child" when you look into their uptie stories. Mili and the singer of the video here use the same technique of changing the tone and pitch of their voice to differntiate two characters.

The Wild Hunt is a part of Norse Mythology where Odin, mounted on his sixed legged horse Sleipnir, goes through the forest. According to norse-mythology.org, anyone who gets caught up in The Wild Hunt, spotted or seen, gets carried away. Your soul will get incorporated into The Wild Hunt. We all know Erlking Heathcliff did, the rising of the bodies. The Wild Hunt is also mostly describe as having hounds, and who was a hound? Hindleys.

From the same website, on the page of Sleipnir reads,

Also, the horse that heath rides on has a weird liney pattern on it's 4 legs that kind of look like that runestone. There's more connection here, I just don't want to type it again.

How did Project Moon mix two diffrent mythological ideas together? (Its not just two, they mixed so many more.) Meet human mistranslation and the progression of oral tradition and story telling throught time. I don't kno where to start. There was mistranslation poem when, according to ancient-origins.net Johann Gottfried Herder wrote a seperate ballad from the one I linked at the start called Erlkönigs Tochter.

The Anglo-Saxons were early German settlers. This is where things get messy because I have several more potential leaders of the Wild Hunt but here are two, King Herla and Herne The Hunter.

Herne The Hunter: Popularized by Shakespeare potentially from a play called The Merry Wives of Windsor. This man called Jacobb Grimm said that Hene The Hunter was related to Odin. Herne the hunter is this ghost. ( https://mythopedia.com/topics/herne-the-hunter ) Im trying to say there are other media that connect the Erlking to the Wild Hunt but its on Wikipedia so it makes it seem fishy. Another Link Here

King Herla: A british king who attended a dwarf wedding. When he left the wedding, the world had changed. Unbeknowst to him, 300 years had passed and he was claimed to be missing. When his men tried to get off their horses, they turned into dust so they were stuck like that. Read it here, its short. Someone better and more credible than me summed the story up better than I did, historian Chrissy Senecal. Read right here. An additional link to cross refrence if you'd like. King Herla and Odin got conflated together when really, their diffrent people

I found this other website article about Wild Hunts which kind of brings me to the next thing, the Harlequinn. They weild clubs, their devils, the image of them is popularly joyful? Maybe goofy and lighthearted? Perhaps associated with cards? Matt, or Heathcliff's portrayal of Matt. Now, I'm looking at Wikipedia and I see this section.

What do we have here? A mention of the Erlkönig, Dante's Inferno, masked, club weilding giant. Heathcliff's not giant but hes pretty tall, at least by my standards but whatever, im very short. DANTE'S INFERNO, Canto 11 and 12. What the fuck Project Moon, are you playing 5d chess?

Back on topic, Hellequin is the fairy king, and this figure pops up in German, French, Italian, and English folklore. I can't do proper research when all my search results are mixed with random junk and I'm becoming nutty. You will not normally be able to access this article without paying but here's the link anyways. Journal Article from this book on a section about horned deities made in 1922 speaks of a group of ghost riding, who are also huntsman.

And also another mention of Dante's Inferno. The name, Herne The Hunter is mentioned again.

All and all, The link between The Erlkonig and The Wild Hunt isn't as wild and unexplainable as I originally thought. It's just so cool to see all these concepts intersect. There still so much to touch upon like the headless horseman refrence and the Dullahans, RYOSHU COMPARING THE WILD HUNT TO THE PARADE OF 100 SPIRTS, something along that line, I forgot the name. I'm just not the right person to yell about this but I will anyways. The writers mixed so many symbols of death into one character. Such a wild and nutty Canto. Thank you so much Project Moon.

[cryptic-symbols]

Moon Colony Bloodbath Liner Notes

(I couldn't find these anywhere else so I wrote them up as they appear on the rerelease)

The plexiglass domes flow across the surface of the moon like fields of wheat. Built using prison labor in 1970 and '71, they exist in an official vapor-realm: their documentation isn't suppressed per se, but is camouflaged by needless technical jargon that runs into the thousands of pages. These files are available to the public, but they sit in file cabinets somewhere near Orlando, gathering dust and serving their purpose thereby.

In the thirty-four years since the construction of the domes was completed, over five thousand bodies have been sent there, to exist permanently on life support in a totally sterile environment. These bodies have provided organs to every major hospital in the western world. The crew that tends them was culled from various centers where the forgotten gather: soup kitchens, used bookstores, public parks. They rotate out of duty every six months, spending their time on Earth in opulent but seclusion on government-owned land in Colorado; those who have family find their husbands or wives, their children or parents, waiting for them at home when they return.

Our protagonist is a man who, bored out of his mind working in the organ-harvesting domes of the moon, takes to sleeping in one of the life-supporting apparatuses intended only for the only-technically alive bodies he stewards. Our story begins on his sojourn back home in the dead of winter. Brought to you in hidden infrastructure.