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cryptidghostgirl · 7 months

Note

Heya! I just found you and I knew that I immediately had to put in a request!! May I ask for Alastor x chubby reader?? With hurt and comfort?? Where a random demon makes her feel bad for being chubby and Alastor comforts her AND CONFESSES that he's in love with her 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ and then in true Alastor fashion he rips the demon apart for making reader feel bad PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

A/N of course!! this is good vibes. yes. 11/10 for the adorable scale. I've been writing so much angst,, the fluff request is so welcome. ALSO THIS GIF I FOUND FOR THE IMAGE OF THIS STORY IS SO CUTE WTF.

Sweet (Alastor x Chubby!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Hurt//comfort, tw for body image stuff/issues, gore but make it cute, uh... fluff. Sickeningly sweet fluff. Extra TW body image stuff. May or may not have channeled some of my ten years experience with eds into this one besties, sorry about that.

Word Count: 3,330

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

The truth of it was: Y/n knew exactly how pretty she was. That didn't keep it from hurting when people made unprovoked, snide remarks about her weight. More than one thing can be true at the same time.

She was kind of used to it by now. People in the human world had been rude on occasion, she'd had doctors occasionally act discriminatorily towards her because of her weight, a shitty date or partner or two who told her to lose it, but it had been nothing in comparison to Hell. It was Hell after all, home to the worst of the worst. Y/n tried to toughen up, thicken her skin. After a life on earth and another fifteen years down below she couldn't help but feel like it shouldn't hurt anymore. It still always did.

This one had been particularly bad. Y/n had stepped out of the hotel, intent on meeting a friend for lunch. She'd gotten all dressed up for it too, in her favorite outfit with her makeup done all pretty. She hadn't just felt good stepping out, she'd known she was hot. There had been a spring in her step and a coy smile on her face as she lowered her heart shaped sunglasses from the top of her head.

Five minutes, four blocks. That's all it took.

"Jesus, who let you outside in that?" the man had laughed, "Cover that shit up, I'm gonna vomit."

Y/n had sent her friend a text, saying she wasn't feeling well. She had apologized and asked to reschedule. Y/n had gone home.

Angel Dust had tried to approach her as she had stormed into the lobby but, she had brushed him off, rushing to her room. Y/n hand't meant to be rude. She had every intention of finding him later to apologize, the tears had just been pressing hotly behind her eyes and she needed to be alone. She loved Angel, trusted him, through of him as a brother but god, she did not want to cry in front of him. Not right now anyways, not over something so... so... stupid.

Y/n slammed the door to her room harshly behind her as she entered it, throwing herself onto the bed and burying her face in the pillow. In the comfort of pinks and piles of stuffed animals, she sobbed.

It wasn't even the comment that was getting to her anymore, although it had been a particularly awful one. No, what was upsetting her now was how she'd let it get to her. She felt stupid and weak and more than anything in the world she just wanted to rip the clothes off her body along with her skin and disappear from the physical world.

Her shoulders shook harshly, the pillow now damp. She was sure her makeup was a mess but didn't care. It wasn't like anyone was going to see her anyways, not until tomorrow at least. Y/n was trying to get redeemed but she wasn't trying to get made fun of. If she could keep this to herself, she was going to.

It wasn't that she didn't trust the others in the hotel. Y/n actually trusted them more than about anyone she'd met in Hell up to this point. They were kind and caring, invested in themselves and one another even if they pretended they weren't. There was just the fear. There was always the fear, the internal need for perfection, to show no weakness.

Almost as if the universe was fucking with her, as if it could tell exactly what she didn't want, there was a knock at the door. Y/n groaned audibly into the pillow. Of course, just when she wanted to be left alone. The knock came again and she slowly sat up, still sniffling and hurriedly wiping her eyes.

"Uh, yeah." she called, trying her best to keep her voice from trembling and praying she didn't look too much of a mess even if it was probably just Charlie or Angel, "It's open. Sorry."

Y/n's eyes widened slightly in shock as Alastor opened the door. Out of everyone in the hotel, he was probably the person she knew the least. She made the effort of course. Despite knowing his status and his history, she tried to play nice and make friends. It was he who avoided her, not the other way around.

To be perfectly honest, Alastor made Y/n a bit nervous. It wasn't because of his reputation. They were in Hell for heaven's sake, everyone had one of those. No, it was the way her heart beat a little faster when he was in the room. It was the way that every time she looked at him, she secretly hoped she'd catch him looking at her too.

Alastor had never been in Y/n's room before. It was all satin and pink and lace. He couldn't help but think it suited her to a t. It was all perfect, she was perfect. Except here she was crying, just as Angel had said she might be.

What had happened was this: Alastor had over heard Angel saying something to Husk. They were at the bar, Angel was drinking as always, and saying he was worried about Y/n. Alastor had pressed and when Alastor pressed, he always got his way. Apparently Y/n had come back to the hotel mere minutes after having left to go get lunch with a friend. Angel said she had seemed really agitated, genuinely upset.

That had made Alastor angry. Not normal angry more delicate than that, more minute. It made him upset, he hurt for Y/n in her theoretical pain. He wasn't used to this whole feeling things thing. His body on autopilot, Alastor himself had been surprised when he found himself before her door, poised to knock.

Y/n watched him, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed. There were dark circles of mascara beneath her eyes that matched the stains on her pillow behind her and her pretty dress had a few wrinkles in it.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" Alastor asked, stepping fully in to the room.

"Oh, nothing." Y/n tried to brush him off, looking away towards the window as she pulled a stuffed animal into her lap.

It was her trembling lip that gave her away. Alastor let the door fall shut behind him. Y/n turned as she felt the bed dip beside her, her mouth slightly open.

"I would advise you not to lie to me."

He hadn't meant for it to sound like that. He saw the way Y/n stiffened instinctually at his words, at his tone. Alastor didn't know how to exist in a non threatening way, its how he'd lived his whole life in this world and the one before it. It was how he protected himself. He took a breath.

"What I mean," he slowly corrected himself, "is that you don't need to lie. I..."

He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the way he was forcing himself to be honest. Honesty was, however, the only option. He saw the way Y/n's gaze was distant, her body tense. For the first time in his life, he wanted to help someone else. It was strange. Alastor submitted himself to the oddity of it all, the discomfort. It was his gift to her.

"I'm here to help."

"I..." Y/n trailed off, big wet tears pooling in her eyes, "It's nothing. I'm okay, really. It's stupid."

With a gentleness that surprised both of them, Alastor lifted a hand to her face, wiping a stray tear. He held it on the tip of his finger before his eyes, examining the way a jeweler would a diamond.

"If it's upsetting you this deeply, it's not stupid."

That was the last straw. Y/n, unable to hold herself back any longer, collapsed into his chest. Her body shook with sobs. Alastor held his arms out, unsure of what to do with them. It took him a second to comply with her unspoken request, wrapping them around her. He found himself rubbing small circles on her back, trying to soothe her.

There was a reason Alastor avoided Y/n and it was that the demoness made him feel things. Things he was unaccustomed to feeling, things that felt dangerous in their warmth and care. Bubbly little things that got caught in his chest and tied up his tongue. If he had thought about his actions, he wouldn't have come to her side but he hadn't and so, here he was. This was all unknown territory, he felt blind and alone in the dark. Alastor didn't like that.

They stayed like that for several minutes until Y/n was finally able to regain some control of her breathing. She calmed herself methodically, as if it was a ritual she was well practiced in. Alastor found himself wondering how many times she had felt like this, reacted to something in her life like this, and had no one there to hold her. He didn't like that thought. He couldn't decide what was worse, if no one ever had been there or if there was someone else who she wanted in times like this, someone other than him. Someone better, more well versed in the delicate intricacies of emotion.

She lifted herself from his chest, his arms falling from her back to his sides as she wiped the last few stray tears.

"I'm sorry." she half laughed, "I don't know what came over me... and I've ruined your suit."

Alastor looked down. There were indeed black stains from her running makeup on his jacket. Normally such a thing would irritate him to no end, anger him even. It was Y/n who had made them however and so, he didn't care. He turned back to her, shaking his head slightly.

"Nothing a wash can't fix. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"It's stupid." Y/n shook her head, her eyes finding her hands in her lap.

She still held the stuffed animal there, a rabbit. She fiddled with it's ears absent mindedely, twisting them and rubbing them in a practiced manner.

"Y/n." Alastor gently warned and she sighed.

"It's just... something someone said to me. That's all."

Alastor's brow furrowed slightly at the notion.

"What did they say? Who was it?"

The words had fallen from him quicker than he had meant them to, more earnestly. He was grateful Y/n seemed to stuck in her own world to notice such a thing.

"Just some asshole making a comment about my weight. Saying that I shouldn't wear what I wear, saying the sight of me made them nauseous. The normal dickwad stuff. I should be used to it by now, I've been chubby all my life but... I don't know. It still just makes me want to disappear. To rip myself apart by the fistful, you know?"

Y/n looked up at Alastor when he didn't respond, her cheeks red with embaressment.

"I told you, it's du-"

"Who the fuck said it?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying his best to remain calm.

"Alastor, it's fine." Y/n sighed, "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it. Like I said, I've heard it all before."

She made to turn back to the plushie in her lap but before she could, Alastor cupped her face gently in his hands.

"Al... what are you..."

"Y/n, you are stunning."

There he went again, not thinking. Y/n was dangerous, to be avoided. She paraded around in her sweet sundresses and angelic disposition, practically unfit to have been sent to Hell in the first place. She was the simple syrup in lemonade, she was the best mixed drink.

Her tongue ran gently over her lips, an innocent and thoughtless gesture on her part that sent his mind reeling as she mulled over his words. Her brow furrowed.

"Alastor, I-"

"You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, living or dead."

There he went again, his tongue a million miles ahead of his brain. Y/n let out a light laugh, her head still in his hands.

"What?" Alastor asked, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, "I mean it."

"I thought you hated me." Y/n confessed.

"Far from it, my sweet."

His voice was barley more than a whisper. Y/n looked away.

"You drive me to distraction."

Her presence was like some strange truth serum rushing through his veins, now he had started, he couldn't seem to stop.

"I've never... You're unlike anyone I've ever met. You shine in this dark place."

"Alastor, this is a lot." Y/n admitted after a moment.

"My apologies." he let go of her face, his heart sinking, "I did not intend to make you feel worse."

He should have known. Alastor, in his foolish frenzy, had forgotten himself, his legacy, his persona. How could someone as sweet as a sun ripened strawberry stolen straight from the bush feel anything towards him save fear?

"I'll go."

Alastor made to get up, had every intent to actually leave and give Y/n her space. At the felling of her small hand on his arm, he paused and turned back to her.

Y/n's face was bright red, she refused to meet his gaze. Her arm not holding him was wrapped tightly around her stuffed animal like a charm.

"No, please." she took a deep breath, meeting his eyes once again at last, "I... I think... you're rather... handsome... as well."

Her speech was halting, uncertain in its anxiety. His smile widened.

"You do now, do you?" he asked, lifting her head a little higher with a finger beneath her chin.

"Oh hush." she scolded him, "If anyone was going to lie out of the pair of us, I'm pretty sure it'd be you. I am trying to be redeemed, in case you've forgotten, and you probably just want my soul or some shit."

"How can I prove to you that the only way I want your soul is given willingly and out of contract?"

Y/n laughed again, a genuine joy.

"Pinky promise me."

She held up a hand and Alastor quickly locked pinkies with her.

"I meant every word I said. I've had... eyes for you for a while now. You are the rosy fingered dawn. You are... you're you. You are Y/n."

"I am Y/n, aren't I." she smiled cockily back.

It was a relief to see her return to her normal confident self.

"I meant everything I said too. I've... I've had eyes for you too, or whatever."

She looked away, her cheeks even brighter pink than before. Alastor let go of her pinky and, leaning forward, pressed a soft and tentative kiss to the top of their head. Y/n immediately snapped her head back to him. Before he could register what was happening, she had tackled him in a hug, throwing them both to the bed.

Looking down at him from her perch on his lap, she smiled brightly.

"Can I kiss you?"

The question took him by surprise. He had never kissed anyone before save the tender kiss on the cheek reserved for dear friends and close family. He hesitated in indecision, in uncertainty.

"You're allowed to say no." Y/n followed up, noticing his apparent discomfort, "I don't want to move things too fast for you."

Alastor shook his head, the truth of his own desire unexpected even to him.

"No. You can."

Y/n's smile widened as they dipped down, pecking him on the lips. His cheeks warmed as she straightened herself up again, her hands pressed flat against his chest.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for."

She smelled sweet, she looked sweet, god, she probably even tasted sweet. His tongue darted out of his mouth across his lips jus ever so slightly, the flavor of her strawberry lipgloss fueling his infatuation.

"Do that again."

It didn't take long for Alastor to track down the demon in question that had sent Y/n spiraling that afternoon. After their promise had been made and she had agreed to the date he had proposed for the next day, she had spilled everything. Her head in his lap as he had run his fingers through her hair, she had complained liberally about the demon. Her complaints had, thankfully, included a full description of the man.

Once the hour was late and he was sure she was fast asleep along with everyone else in the hotel, Alastor had slipped out onto the streets. The demon was, of course, easy to locate. He was loud and distinctive. Alastor found him drunk in a bar harassing a woman. He watched, waiting patiently until the man left and when he did, Alastor followed him.

He cornered the demon, sending his shadows to torment the man. He was on his knees close to tears by the time Alastor finally decided to join in on the fun. He leered down at the demon, grinning from ear to ear.

"I heard you said something rather cruel today." he hummed.

"I didn't!" the man pleaded, "I swear!"

"Not even to a pretty little demon in heart shaped sunglasses?"

The man's eyes widened slightly in obvious recollection.

"I... fuck, I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know who she was. I didn't know she was with you!"

Alastor stretched in the darkness of the ally, his horns growing thorny and tall as he entered his true demon form. The man trembled in fear. It was pathetic, truly.

"It doesn't matter. You ruined her plans for the day and so, in return, I am going to ruin you."

With those final words, he pounced. The tongue of the man was the first thing to go, ripped with great force from his throat and tossed to the side.

Next were his ears, Alastor tore them from his head slowly. The man screamed, a choked and guttural sound through the blood in his throat. Alastor laughed shamelessly, his claws finding a home in the demon's stomach next.

He disemboweled the man with ease, careful to keep everything connected so he was still alive. Then, he went for the eyes, gouging them out in harsh slashing movements. Alastor straightened himself, looking down upon his mess of a creation.

"I would say that next time you will think before saying something like that again but, I think we both know there wont be a next time."

A strange sound left the demons throat, obviously a plea of mercy. Without a tongue, he could not articulate his wishes.

"What?" Alastor asked, putting a hand to his ear as he slowly returned to his normal appearance, "I am sorry but could you say that again? I couldn't quite make it out."

Another strangled, desperate sound left the man's throat. Alastor laughed.

"Well, I've given you a chance to beg for your life and you have chosen not to take it." he taunted, leaning back over the man, "I supposed that means you have opted for death. Very well."

In a single, swift movement he tore the man's throat from his neck. The demon twitched under him for a few seconds longer before at last stilling in death. Alastor examined his work for a moment before pulling himself to his feet. Without a glance back towards the body, he straightened his jacket and let his shadows take him from the ally.

Y/n was under his protection now. He had tried so long to avoid the call, the weakness, her charms pulling him in. At long last, he had succumbed and under his watch, no one was going to ever make her feel anything less than perfect ever again.

----

A/N This is the first time I have ever written something like this, I hope it was okay.

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purriteen · 7 months

Text

Ad victor spolia, chapter six

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years), somnophilia

author’s note: Tigris my beloved I'm so sorry 😭🫶🏻

BIG extra warning for this chapter!! smut, Coriolanus Snow is fucking insane, choking, non-con (again), he treats reader very badly in this chapter

you are responsible for your own media consumption I have warned you

word count: 4,024

Previous chapter

It had been a few weeks since Romulus and your supposed attacker, a man whom you didn't even recognise, were executed side by side. Everyone had extended their sympathies and condolences to you, not because you'd lost your childhood friend over an accusation that was so obviously false it was painful, or because you had to witness two likely innocent men being fried to death in a surprisingly swift manner, pioneered by doctor Volumnia Gaul herself.

But rather because it took so long for you to get justice. It seemed as if everyone knew more about your supposed assault than you yourself. Once again your brother was ten steps ahead, painstakingly fabricating your entire life and neglecting to tell you until it was already cemented.

You no longer woke up in his bed every morning. You no longer exchanged pleasantries over breakfast, congratulated him or feigned interest in hearing him talk about his day.

Coriolanus hated it. He had intended for the experience to toughen you up a little, make you see the world the same as him, help you see other people for the vipers that they are. But instead it seemed you had turned on him, pinning him as the viper.

Scolding himself for getting impatient with you had quickly grown unproductive, and so he realised he had to solve things elsehow.

That was where Tigris came in.

Although she didn't know it, she would play an important role in pushing you in the only right direction. Losing Tigris would be the last nail in the coffin.

Even if you weren't the same girl you once were by the end of this, Coriolanus would get what he wanted from you. He always did.

To the victor go the spoils.

Being told that your brother had arranged for Tigris to come over for tea was like a godsend, even if it had been arranged by someone you could only describe as the complete opposite.

Romulus' execution had washed away any hopes you had of your brother being a decent human being. You felt like a fool for believing he might actually be anything other than a callous, miserly serpent.

But it was no use crying over spilled milk. You had to get out of here, and your cousin was your only hope.

Unbeknownst to you, Coriolanus had been as meticulous in shifting Tigris' view of you as he was with everything else.

You immediately knew something wasn't right when you sat down with her in the sitting room.

You had never seen Tigris angry, and that wasn't about to change. But there was this unsavoury look in her eyes, one that you could most accurately describe as sorrowful. Every time that she looked at you, it was as if she was mourning something.

You couldn't bear it.

After a few minutes of fluctuating between lukewarm small talk and an agonising silence, you spoke up.

"Tigris.. Please, talk to me."

It was pathetically subdued, your request. Not conveying even half of the desperation you felt, nor the confusion, the disillusionment.

It only takes her a few seconds to respond, but as her golden brown eyes peer into you for those deathly silent few seconds, you feel as if several years of your life have passed by in a single breath.

"You've changed." Is all that she says, and judging by the look on her face, even that takes a great deal of effort. You can feel her eyes trailing down to your blouse, and it takes you a moment to realise why she seems to have latched onto it.

As you clothed yourself earlier that day, you hadn't thought much of the impression your outfit would give. You were used to having your clothes laid out for you every morning, and although you didn't particularly like it, it was undeniably convenient.

But today, you were dressed in a pussybow blouse, a crisp white colour with buttons and the bow itself in your brother's signature deep maroon colour. Your hair, which you had for years insisted on keeping relatively natural looking, was done up into an overly complex updo.

You looked like all those wealthy, prissy Capitol ladies you and your cousin used to secretly poke fun at. Like your power-hungry brother's wet dream. The version of you that he had painstakingly curated to align with everything that he wanted to portray himself as. You were aware that your image, your entire person, was to him an extension of his own image, but you would've never thought that Tigris would be fooled by it.

Your blood runs cold as the truth crashes into you all at once.

You knew your brother was vicious and that he certainly wouldn't hesitate to keep you and Tigris apart if it was in his best interest. But you never considered how all of this would appear to Tigris, what she would make of how Coriolanus had portrayed you.

At least, you never considered that it might be this.

You thought she would always take your side, that she would always be the one to listen when nobody else did.

The realisation that that is no longer the case hits you like a thousand bullet wounds, puncturing your remaining hope like a balloon.

"Tigris.." You begin, your voice trembling, a look of disbelief and pure regret plastered on your face.

"Why did you ask me here, Hersilia?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper. She too looks like she's on the brink of tears, her lips pursed.

"You were like a little sister to me. Then when Grandma'am died, you pushed me away, you wouldn't even speak to me," She breathlessly chuckles, wiping a stray tear with her sleeve.

"You love your brother, I can't blame you for that. But you didn't have to abandon our relationship for that.." She says, and although her voice is silken and smooth as always, with a tinge more of hurt, it feels as if she's just driven a dagger through your heart.

"That isn't-" You begin to speak, but you're unable to stop a sob from escaping your throat, the distress overpowering your voice.

Through tear-filled, blurry eyes you watch as Tigris rises from her seat, sniffling as she walks over to you. You're surprised when she takes your hands in hers, gently circling your knuckles with her thumbs. You can tell she's struggling to not burst into tears herself.

"I love you, Hessie, and I know there's still good in you. But you chose him, and if you continue like this you'll be stuck with that choice for good. I tried, but I can't help you any more than I already have." She whispers to you, pressing a shaky kiss to the top of your head, before letting go of your hands and leaving you all alone with your lukewarm cup of tea.

The door quietly shuts behind you, and a maid rushes in as you break into violent sobbing, completely unreceptive to her attempts to calm you down. The last thing you remember is Eugenie entering the room, and yourself finally allowing her to hold you as you bawl.

You know she means well, and she manages to calm you down enough to stop your hyperventilating, but you're also painfully aware that the pain you feel now will never truly go away.

The cathartic relief as you stop weeping will never come.

You awake later that day to find Coriolanus sitting at your bedside, your own bedside this time. You're back in your own room on the other side of the presidential palace.

He's still dressed in his woollen coat, his hair neatly styled as it was when he left this morning. He gives you a weak smile when you look up at him, stretching out his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, and the audacity of him to ask such a question in this moment makes your blood boil. Perhaps he's already forgotten how he ruined your life, picked it apart down to the bone, all without even telling you, the deceptive fuck.

You used to think your brother wanted to keep the family together, that you were important to him. You allowed him to ensnare you until he had taken everything you once held dear from you right under your nose. You hate that you allowed him to get away with it, with everything.

You don't even realise what you've done until he has your wrist in a grip so tight you feel as if he might crush it, his eyes narrowed and cheek marred with a handprint so bright red it almost looks comical.

You thrash in his grasp, your free hand balled up into a fist as you repeatedly jab it at his chest. But in a matter of seconds he has you pinned down on your chest, your wrists restrained behind your back.

His hot breath tickles your skin, making the hairs on your neck stand as he whispers, no, hisses into your ear. "Do you really think it's a good idea to pick a fight with the only person left in the world who cares about you? Huh?"

His cruel, taunting words cut deeper into you than a knife, making you thrash in his grasp once again as a string of cries and sobs spill from your mouth.

"You were never on my side, you sick bastard!" You spit out, but he quickly pushes your face down into the pillow which effectively shuts you up, his white-knuckled grasp on the hair on the back of your head painfully tight.

"Just shut up, you ungrateful fucking slut. You have no one left to turn to but me. You should be thankful that I don't cut out your tongue or banish you to the districts," He almost shouts at you, but you can tell he's already struggling to keep his voice down. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as you struggle to breathe.

You realise once he straddles the back of your thighs what his intentions are, much too late, as always. His bulge presses against your thighs, horror and disbelief taking over you as you make a final, adrenaline-fuelled attempt at fighting him off. You manage to break your wrists out of his iron grip, only for him to release your head and instead force your hands back into place, his free hand rustling with his belt.

You writhe and shout, but nobody comes to your rescue. He must've cleared this wing of the building beforehand. "You're my brother, you degenerate fuck! If you do this you're no better than those district savages you speak so unkindly of!"

Your words are soon followed by an anguished yell as he bends your wrist at a painful angle, only letting up when you feel as if it's about to snap. In the blink of an eye he has you on your back, hands pinned down at your stomach as he leans in close, his face mere inches away from you.

"Yes, Hersilia, I am your brother," He hisses, grabbing you by your hair and forcing you to keep your eyes on him. "And I made you. I raised you, moulded you into exactly what you are today. You were no one and nothing, and I gave you everything," He continues, his words coming out strained and harsh as he speaks right into your ear, accentuating every syllable of that last word.

"Do you think I did all of that for nothing? So that you could stray from the future I built for us, for our family, so that you could abandon me?" He breathlessly chuckles, his hand working to undo the buttons of your blouse as you struggle to hold back tears, teeth digging into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

As he unties the ribbon around your neck, he replaces it with his hand, snug around your windpipe.

“Answer me.” He snarls, cruelly cutting off your air supply as he waits for an answer. You meekly shake your head in response, to which he lets out a humourless laugh and lets go of your neck. Within the blink of an eye his hand comes back down, hard, on your left cheek, before returning to slither around your neck.

"Useless." He mutters, taking a moment to burn the image of your dishevelled state into his mind before he lets go of your neck, yanking open the rest of the buttons of your blouse to reveal your bare midriff and bra-clad chest. You start to squirm again and he pins your hands above your head in response, his free hand grasping your chin hard enough to make you grimace.

"Hey, look at me. Quit squirming or I might as well let doctor Gaul run one of her little experiments on your head, yeah? Let her stir around your pathetic fucking brain." He practically growls at you, and with the threat of whatever lobotomy-like operation doctor Gaul had in store looming over your head, you finally stop writhing for a while and let the tears fall freely.

He resumes pedantically undressing you, holding your left hand up and pulling the sleeve off whilst the right one remains pinned over your head before repeating the process with the other. Finally he discards your blouse on the floor, a sly grin on his face as he takes in the sight of your barely covered breasts.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He muses, his hand tugging at the zip of your skirt. He soon gets impatient, carelessly yanking it down over your hips and finally tossing it aside, which earns him a surprised gasp. The look on his face is amused, clearly pleased with himself, as he takes in the sight of you in only your underwear.

"Didn't know my own little sister liked to dress like such a little whore," He taunts, making your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You choose not to point out that he's the one who bought everything in your underwear drawer, although this set was definitely among the skimpier options.

"Look at you. Wearing that barely-there bra and those flimsy little panties, and yet you're still trying to hide yourself from me." He sighs, his hand delving in between your squeezed-shut thighs.

"Open." He instructs, and this time the playfulness has entirely vanished from his voice. You swallow hard, trying to brace yourself for the impending humiliation, and slowly spread your legs wider.

"That's better." He pats your cheek almost affectionately, and by god you want to bite his fingers off. You've finally calmed your crying, but when he hooks his digits under the waistband of your panties, you're damn close to starting back up. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

So you put on your best poker face, managing to maintain it as he slowly, slowly peels your panties off, revealing your puffy cunt to him. He curses lowly under his breath, and you grit your teeth as you watch him absentmindedly pocketing your panties. Next he hastily unclasps the back of your bra, pulling it off of you and carefully releasing your wrists, now that you're caged in between his arms anyways.

"Don't try to escape, okay? I've got guards stationed just outside. Just let it happen, unless you'd like them to see you naked too." He warns, and you let out a mumbled 'okay'. The fact that his guards know what's happening in your bed in this very moment, and aren't doing anything to stop it, makes your stomach turn.

Even though you were anticipating it, feeling his hands on your naked body makes your breath catch in your throat. His hands explore your exposed tits as his knees settle in between yours, ensuring that your legs stay spread and your sex remains on full display for him.

"Would you look at that, you're wet already," He mocks as he swipes his index finger across your folds, coating his fingertip in your juices. He leans down to whisper in your ear as he slowly pushes his index and middle finger inside.

"You've practically been asking for this, you know. I was going to take you in your sleep that night, when you passed out drunk in my bed, but I wanted you to be awake for this moment." He admits without the slightest bit of hesitation, sending a shiver down your spine. You bite back a groan when he starts to move his fingers in and out at a steady pace.

Without even saying anything about it, he's confirmed what you already knew deep down, that what he claimed lead up to you falling asleep in his bed that night was just an excuse, something he fabricated so he could keep you close to him.

"You're disgusting," You manage to whisper out through gritted teeth, earning you a disinterested sigh.

"And you're much prettier when you're not talking."

His words nauseate you, wondering what it was that everyone else saw in him to earn him the trust of the Capitol citizens. He undoubtedly had superficial charm, but you found it strange that nobody saw past it and saw him for the snake he truly was, even though you yourself had been played for a fool too once.

You're just about to say something in response when his fingertips graze your sweet spot, a whimper falling from your lips before you can stop it. Coriolanus' grin widens at this, starting to repeatedly prod at your g-spot with each thrust of his fingers.

You tense up when he pulls out slightly, pressing his ring finger to your entrance, and before he can push it deeper your own hand paws at his wrist, trying to push him away.

The look on his face instantly hardens, grabbing both of your hands in his and grabbing his previously discarded belt, raising an eyebrow at you as if to warn you that he'll restrain you again if you keep fighting back.

You avert your gaze in shame, mumbling out an 'I'm sorry' in hopes of dissuading him. He reluctantly releases your wrists, tossing his leather belt aside.

"You're on thin ice." He says coldly, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

Without warning he pushes all three fingers back inside at once, drawing a whine from your lips.

Coriolanus relishes your mortified and sordid state, taking great pleasure in being the first man to taint your innocence. The first and only man who'll ever get to see you like this.

He goes slow at first, allowing you to adjust and himself not to miss out on any of your reactions, wanting to hear every little sound, study every facial expression you make. If he hadn't already waited so long for this moment, he'd have taken his time, made you writhe and squirm and beg him not to stop before he even considered properly fucking you.

But it doesn't take long for him to get impatient. He picks up the pace as he leans down to trail kisses down your neck, planting a dark hickey that would be hard to hide just below where your left cheek ended.

Finally he retreats, bringing his fingers to your lips and watching as you hesitantly take them into your mouth, licking your own juices off of his fingers. As soon as he deems them clean enough, and you mortified enough, he pulls them out and hurriedly undoes his button-down shirt.

You watch with dread as he unzips his pants, taking them off and leaving him only in his boxers and his open shirt. But soon his undergarments come off too, and your breath hitches in your throat when he bares his shaft. He's both thicker and definitely longer than you thought.

He wastes no time in pressing his tip, reddish and already leaking precum, against your puffy folds, rubbing it up and down a couple times to coat himself in your wetness, before grabbing ahold of your waist with his free hand and starting to guide himself inside with the other. It's a tight fit, and you can't help but cry out as the head of his cock slides past your hymen, providing a painful stretch.

Your hands come up to paw at his chest, but this doesn't seem to deter him one bit, as he simply keeps going, forcing himself deeper inside until you can feel his tip prodding directly at your cervix.

There's still another inch or two to go, Coriolanus thinks, but you'll have to work on that over time.

He steadily pulls back until his tip slides back through your hymen, the sore ring of muscles clamping down around him on instinct as he practically slams back in, burying his cock as deep as it would go. A shameless groan spills from his throat, his hand gripping at and bunching up the bedsheets right next to you as he repeats this motion a couple more times.

Deciding that your legs are getting in the way, he swiftly grabs you by the back of your knees and practically folds you in half, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist for stability. He leans down to press his lips against yours, and you can practically feel his victorious, shit-eating grin on your mouth as he slowly and roughly pumps his cock in and out.

From the outside, the two of you could pass for young lovers, tangled in an intimate embrace and bursting with mutual affection. But in reality, he's a serpent masquerading as a man, slowly, slowly sucking the life out of you.

"You're nothing without me," He grunts lowly as he fucks into you, hand wrapped around your throat. When he receives no response he squeezes slightly, eyes boring into yours. "Say it." He emphasises his words with another, harsher squeeze, refusing to break eye contact as he relentlessly pounds your weeping cunt.

"'M nothin', nothin' without you," You blubber out, looking up at him through teary eyes. You never thought your brother would take it this far, but now it's clear that he'd been waiting for his chance to defile you ever since you first moved into this house of horrors.

You've lost count of how many times he's forced you to cum around his cock by now. With him frequently asphyxiating you, never allowing you to fully catch your breath before his hands reclaim their place around your throat, your mind has been perpetually hazy for the past hour.

You know for sure however that he's came inside you twice already. Enough for his spend to be leaking out of your sore mound and trickling down onto the sheets. You pleaded with him to pull out the first time, but by the time he approached his second orgasm of the night you had given up.

At the end of the day, you knew that Coriolanus would never allow you to get pregnant out of wedlock, especially not with your own brother's child. He would make sure it didn't take one way or another, for the sake of his own reputation. Certainly not for your sake.

He lightly slaps your left cheek, his thrusts starting to get sloppy as his cock throbs deep inside of you. "Look at me. Look up at me, stupid fuckin' slut." He huffs, and even though he's called you worse before, the vulgarity of his words still manage to take you by surprise.

He flashes you a crooked grin when your eyes finally meet his, savouring the fucked out, defeated look on your face. Your beautiful eyes, lined with smudged mascara that trails down the valley of your cheeks, filled with misguided disdain and crushed hope. Your soft lips, puffy and agape as you gasp for air.

Coriolanus had never felt quite this enamoured with you before. On a bad day, you were pretty, but now that he had you splayed out underneath him, your sweet cunt wrapped around his shaft, you were nothing short of divine.

This was the version of you he adored the most.

Tame, vapid and pliant.

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse, @priyajoyy, @euphemiaamillais @harvey-malfoy

so likeee... y'all want an epilogue or no?

#banner credit: @benkeibear #minors dni #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #named reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction #eventual smut #smut

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lanitaminaj · 4 months

Text

once upon a dream

a strange man, or an entity, finds itself plastered on your wall. toji, you begin to learn, finds himself intertwined within your life. inspired by this post.

cw; female reader, sexual themes, cussing, mentions of suicide, mentions of death, paranormal, horror.

he simply stared, unmoving nor unblinking as he observed you.

you gazed back, your doe-eyes large and your babydoll-lips parted as they took in the entity etched on your lavender-purple bedroom wall.

"are you going to hurt me?" you rasped, your voice low as you kept your sleeping parents next door in mind.

he just smirked; the left corner of his lengthy, scarred lips were pulled mockingly upward.

"are you going to kill me in my sleep?" you whispered, your eyelids heavy as a tiny yawn escaped your plush lips.

his chest bounced, as if he was laughing in a tone impossible for your human ears to gather.

"okay," you shrugged, wrapping the pearl-white, cotton-soft blanket up to your shoulders.

he was merely composed of a head and a chest; composed of raven-black, messy tresses. his eyes were almond-shaped, their sunken composure indulged in your form as if you were prey. all you could make out beneath his thick, veiny neck was a set of toughened, herculean shoulders. even covered by the hellish-cloud of ink, you could make out every inch and bulge of inhuman brawn.

"what are you?" you questioned, your body comfortably entangled within the fluffy fabric. you knew he was outworldly, yet you couldn’t discern from where he’d come from. was he your guardian angel? a spiritual protector sent to guard you as you dreamt? or was he demonic, an impish spirit serving as a reminder of the sins living within you?

he, unsurprisingly, refrained from responding. his smirk dropped, yet his nightshade-eyes remained draped on you.

“fine,” you huffed, before you allowed exhaustion to envelop your resting form. Your feather-stuffed pillows molded themselves to accommodate the shape of your head, the baby-powder scent seducing you into succumbing to a peaceful slumber.

wordlessly, you blinked your eyes twice at the strange, ghastly man on your wall, before the world around you became pitch-black.

there was a little bunny that often paraded around in the emerald-green grass of your backyard. some mid-days, when your parents were off at work, you would gather some baby carrots from the refrigerator and feed the little creature. it was a cute thing, you decided, with its long, floppy ears and fur which copied the pattern of cowskin. the only difference was that the darker patterns were a light, caramel-brown rather than a deep, mocha-brown.

the soft baby chewed happily, a soft coo escaping your lips as its rosy-pink nose twitched happily.

the little bunny was an adorable distraction from the source of your recent frustration: the demon in your wall.

you’ve tried for weeks to try and communicate. on your side, you’ve provided a multitude of prompts to ask him.

“where’re you from?” was one. “what’s your name? why’re you in my room?” were others.

of course, there’d been a lack of answers from the demon, causing you to angrily cease your one-sided conversations.

you’d even gone as far as to script a lengthy paper to him, leaving it on the cedar-wood surface of your dresser one night for him to read. when you’d awoken, however, you discovered the letter to be ripped up and discarded messily on your oak-wood floor.

how rude.

your parents had been gone; your father was harvesting bee-honey while your mother attended to her floral shop.

you picked up the little bunny, holding its bustling form close to your warm chest. a light breeze whispered around you, an indignation of the twilight-purple evening sky’s soon arrival.

your bare feet kissed the blades of the clover-green grass, ignoring how the sharp tips provoked slight pain as you stepped. you trekked through the vanilla-white door of the baby-blue painted cottage, the wood underneath you groaning as you inched closer and closer to your lavender-lilac room.

your bedsheets had been in a disarray; all messy with the indent of your body pressed into them. your single window had been cranked open, the smell of ivory and pine-trees surrounded your room. your cotton, white blanket reminded you of the clouds you’d seen that morning. the bubblegum-pink tulip on your dresser was dying.

“there you go,” you softly cooed, gently setting the shaking bunny on your cloudy comforter. it settled in quite nicely, its little nose nuzzling the comforting texture and smell of your bed.

you peered at your wall. he wasn’t there.

a timid grumbling caught your attention.

your eyes widened, your ears focusing on the rumbling occurring again. it didn’t take you long to realize the bunny’s stomach had been thundering, its doll-eyes peering up at you pleadingly.

“hungry?” you questioned it, as if the furry creature could truly understand your human words. it appears that it could, however, its whiskers twitching in response.

“okay,” you nodded, your legs setting for the kitchen. “wait here,” you commanded. “i’ll find you some food.”

there hadn’t been much, honestly. your mother’s produce jars had been empty, the only evidence of there ever being fruits were the royal-blue blueberry and scarlet-red raspberry juices that lined the glasses. you had honey-baked bread, but you weren’t sure if bunnies could eat loaves. a jug of lamb’s milk sat tranquilly in the refrigerator, but you figured it’ll make the tiny creature sick.

suddenly, you remembered the strawberries that your father had been planting. sauntering out the door once more, you set forth to the patch that grew quietly near your home.

like a christmas tree, the bush stood soldierly while the blooming strawberries served as ornaments.

you picked gingerly from it, making sure to pick generously in fear of your father being upset.

somewhat alone, the wind’s embrace and the soft singing of the mockingjays accompanied you as you slipped into a daze.

you thought of your parents, how often tired, yet content, they seemed with their lives. your mother’s serene smile was a sight you adored, while your nose regularly basked in your father’s constant scent of honey. you thought of your little world, how you indulged in simple pleasures such as reading jane austen and producing grains of your own poetry. the other townies often depict these simple pleasures as boring, yet there was some comfort gained in you as you embraced your creative side.

there wasn’t much time left to indulge in your deepest thoughts, of course, as you remembered the little bunny that laid hungry in your bed. swiftly, you gathered the harvested strawberries as you set off for your home, the tranquil little cottage soft in your honeyed-eyes.

you trampled through the door, a whistle on your lips as you chopped up the strawberries in a tiny, heart-shaped ceramic plate. it was a ruby-red shade, messily painted with strawberry and tomato juice from when you were seven-years-old.

“bunny,” you called, your voice sweet and high like a hummingbird’s song. the bunny refrained from trotting to the kitchen, its soft paws against the wooden-floor abstained from entering your ears. you turned towards your bedroom door, the pearl-white hatch suddenly closed and foreboding. you couldn’t remember if you sealed it before you slipped out, yet you disregarded it as an unimportant thought compared to the direness at hand.

“bunny?” you called once more, crouching slowly towards your bedroom with the heart-shaped plate in your left hand. the door ahead of you was coated with hand-painted lavender and pink tulips that scattered beautifully against the colorlessness of the canvas. the sky behind you had turned into a hue of tangerine-orange and violet-purple.

the door creaked as you pushed it open. the plate in your hand thunderously shattered as it dropped in shards against your bedroom floor.

near the lavender wall, where the entity lived, laid your little bunny.

a sob emerged from your throat. your beloved bunny rested in the hands of the entity, the furry creature coated in blood as the wall’s ghost ate from it. when it was done, it simply tossed the slain bunny on the ground, a squelch sound made as it dropped in its scarlet-red bloody pool.

you submerged the urge to vomit, yet couldn’t fight the urge to pass out.

a coral-pink bowl of tomato-soup laid carefully against the palms of your slightly-shaking hands.

you observed the entity, the inhuman-man licking the bunny’s blood that had coated on his fingers.

you hadn’t quite noticed it, but the entity was growing.

he grew arms, the muscles bulging and long. his hands were just as big, with veins coating throughout the flesh. or, form? you wondered if his veins contained blood, or if they were like plant vines. you imagined it was the latter. after the events from earlier, you were convinced that this thing was surely subhuman.

and yet, you couldn’t halt yourself from showing some form of sympathy for it. “i didn’t know you were hungry,” you grumbled, your eyes darting down as you simultaneously spooned your soup. you weren’t very hungry; your appetite had been satiated for at least a week. “i would’ve gotten you something had you just told me.”

he simply stared, his sharp-eyes trained on your smaller form as he sucked. you could feel the little smirk that rested on his bloodied lips. barbaric, you couldn’t help but think. your thoughts translated on your face, a subconscious snarl present on your angry lips.

“you’re evil,” you choked out, placing the soup-bowl on your pearl-white nightstand. “i’m not speaking to you anymore.”

you tucked yourself into bed, your pillowy-sheets brought up to your warm face. you could imagine that the entity was simply staring at you, that nonchalant expression on his face as if he couldn’t care less about eating your precious baby bunny. you tried your best to block out any thoughts of today’s events, your subconscious allowing your mind to dream of pleasant things such as your mother’s cherry-lime pie and your father’s lullabies from your childhood.

within a few minutes, you succumbed to sleep.

by the time you woke up the next morning, you feigned surprise at the entity not being plastered on your wall. good, you thought. yet, there was some wicked pulse in your heart that ached at the usual disappearance of the ghost.

your legs carried you out of bed, your yawning self delighted at the sight of your mother and father eating and chatting blissfully at the kitchen table.

“good morning, honey,” your mother greeted, her lips planting a small kiss on your rosy-pink cheeks. your father squeezed your arm.

“honey,” his resonant voice boomed. “i think my strawberries have bloomed, can you pluck them?”

your back fought the urge to straighten itself rigid, your voice fighting the urge to say “i’ve actually plucked some yesterday”.

you complied, however, like the good daughter you were. “i’ll go get them,” you beamed, grabbing the woven-basket near the front door before you set off for the meadows.

it wasn’t anything peculiar. you merely picked the remaining berries, placed them in your basket, and set off back home. you arrived back to your parents on the porch, their tanned fingers wrapped around mason jars filled with what appeared to be peach-tea.

“honey,” your mother sang your childhood nickname. “set the basket down in the kitchen. we left a glass on the counter for you.”

“thanks, mama,” you thanked, your steps echoing as you entered the tiny kitchen. you sat the basket down, yet something peculiar occurred. a thumping sound emerged, a noise consistent and erratic as it bounced frighteningly on what you determined to be on hardwood-flooring. you listened intently, before you realized the sound was coming from your own bedroom.

your skin suddenly felt very cold.

your crept towards your room, your heart pumping as your hand pushed gently against your colorful door. you swore your heart fought not to stop as the door creaked eerily.

the thumping stopped once you entered your room. you froze, your mind racing with a multitude of thoughts at once. oh god, you cried to yourself. perhaps i’m losing my mind. it wouldn’t be a possibility too far fetched. after all, what sane person sees a ghost in their wall?

but then, there it was. a bunny emerged from under your bed, the thumps it created verified that it was the source of the anxious noises produced. you sighed, but then you realized under sudden inspection that this wasn’t just any bunny. its long, floppy ears; its caramel-brown cowskin patterns.

this was your bunny.

“what,” you breathed to yourself, its pink nose wobbling as it inched closer to you. you couldn’t believe it; your little bunny had been brought back to life?

you bent down to scratch the beloved creature behind its ears, but gasped as it disappeared underneath your touch. within a heartbeat, it was gone once more.

you choked back a sob.

“no,” you huffed, your throat tightening and your heart broken. “no, my bunny.”

a tear slid down your cheek, before something in the corner of your eyes caught your attention. you turned your head, your eyes widening in pure surprise.

there, on your wall, decorated with black-gunk, purple-ink and burgundy-blood, was a simple appellation.

toji.

when you first started seeing choso, you refrained from bringing him home for select reasons.

for one, you didn’t want your parents to flock and coo around him like doves. for two, you didn’t want him to be frightened by the man in your wall.

toji, you discovered, had gotten stronger as the days progressed. the wall carved out indentations of his thighs, the tendons within them muscular and large. similar to his arms, you noted.

you additionally noticed how jealous he’d get, for reasons you didn’t quite know.

during late nights, when your parents were whisked away by either deep sleep or work duties, you found yourself gushing over choso to the shadow man.

“he’s a gentleman,” you blushed, your fingers toying with the loose fabrics on your comforter. “he sometimes doesn’t have much to say, but he’ll bring me little flowers here and there. specifically baby’s breath cause they’re my favorite. i’m surprised he remembered i told him that the one time i did.”

toji kept that common smirk on his ghastly face, yet his features often altered when he heard you speak about choso. for one, his eyes switched. a fire ignited in them, a violet-purple glint in them that never went unnoticed. his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, with his nose flaring ever so slightly.

there was one day you were enthused over choso so bad that it caused toji to completely disappear for three nights, only to smugly reemerge as you pathetically called his name in the dead of night. you’ve received the message, of course. you’ve refrained from raving to toji about your date after those nights.

tonight, however, you’ve gotten the home to yourself. your parents had been flocked away to attend to some dire work obligations, their presence not revered as that meant you were able to bring choso in. you’ve forgotten about one presence, however, too blissed out to remember.

you ransacked your parents’ liquor cabinet, your fingers pulling out a bottle of jack daniel’s tennessee honey whiskey. your father’s favorite.

it was disgusting, of course, your lips pressing bitterly into each other as you took little shots of it. you were never a huge alcohol enthusiast, but you read somewhere that it was an aphrodisiac. from the way a sudden warmth blossomed between your thighs coupled with the way you could feel your tits hardening underneath your white-sundress, you knew the effects were taking place. with choso’s low-eyes and his palm practically caressing your bare calf, you could tell that the alcohol was affecting him as well.

“you’re beautiful,” he uttered above the soft voices of ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong singing ‘the nearness of you’ on the living room’s mahogany-wooden vinyl player.

“thank you,” you breathed before the sudden liquid courage got a hold of you. you got a hold of his hand, guiding it so that it reached the inner warmth of your thighs.

“do you wanna?” you asked sweetly, your cunt dampening as you heard choso rasp out a soft little ‘fuck’.

“we’re all alone, right?” choso asked, to which you gently nodded your response. “no interruptions?”

“no interruptions,” you promised, before letting yourself be whisked away to your bedroom with your date in tow.

he was so muscular; a fact you didn’t know as his body was constantly concealed underneath the robes and baggier fabrics that he donned. his buffed chest rubbed consistently against your softer breasts, causing them to swell underneath his touch. melodic moans and gasps escaped from your lips, your eyes pressed shut from intense ecstasy and pleasure. his cock, god. his cock was veiny and thick; your lips had previously been wrapped around his salmon-pink dick as it began to rise in your throat. currently, it was being punched routinely in-and-out of your tight, soaked cunt. your nails dug into the man’s pale-back, the ruby-red scratches contrasted beautifully against his canvas-like skin.

it was all too much; you didn’t know if you’d be able to withstand how his cock was fucking you deeply and roughly as he breathed heavily in your ear.

“yeah, you like that?” you could hear his heavenly, sexed-out voice question you. the boldness and confidence in his words caused your blissful eyes to open-up slightly, before they immediately bolted-open in shock.

just a few centimeters from your face had been choso’s own, yet something had changed in his eyes.

they glew a violet-purple hue. right there, just below his sweating nose, was his mouth; his lips were pressed into a familiar, hunting smirk.

you could’ve died right there, but you would’ve found it absolutely humiliating for your tombstone to read; death by bomb-ass-dick.

“yeah,” choso’s voice questioned once more, yet your heart thumped at you in both nirvana and in warning. was this truly choso? “you love this dick, don’t you?” he spoke, causing you to subconsciously moan in response. “love how your cunt squeezes on it, huh?”

“yes,” you nonetheless answer, too fucked out to ponder anything less in the moment. “love this dick.”

“love how it makes you go dumb, don’t you?” choso’s voice began to transform into something unfamiliar. the base in his voice lightened, yet changed its tone to that of something more cocksure. a voice you would later be able to put a face to.

“choso,” you whined, an action that erupted voluminous noises to pass out your mouth as choso slammed his cock deeper in your throbbing pussy. a veiny hand snuck to grasp at your blushing tit, before the same hand trailed upward to carefully hold your throat.

“you’re mine,” he hissed, as if something were causing him great pain. “all fucking mine. this cunt belongs to me.”

“all yours, choso,” you swore, your head bobbing up and down the best it could against the grasp of his hand. you could feel the wave of your orgasm beginning to crash, your heightened ah,ah,ah’s the indicator of what was starting to arise.

“gonna cum, aren’t you?” choso solicited, his fingers rubbing against your cunt’s pearl. “cum then, pretty girl.”

and so you did. you cried as your cunt clenched around his cock. choso groaned at the vanilla-reminiscent ring of cream you produced, the man pulling out just as he filled the trojan wrapped around his tip with his own salty-flavored cream. with a huff, he pulled the condom off his cock before he tossed it in the midnight-black tiny trash can behind him, his naked body then collapsing adjacent to yours.

you laid like that for a while, your bare breasts rhythmically rising up-and-down with each deep breath you took. you allowed your left forearm to press against your shut eyelids, allowing yourself a moment to recover from the orgasm that passed you.

“that was good,” you laughed through a string of heaving breaths. “did you like it?”

“yeah,” choso replied, a hint of confusion inked his steady voice. a pregnant pause filled the air, his arm draping across your bare shoulders. “would you find it crazy if i said i didn’t remember any of it?”

“what?” you chuckled, taking his words to be some form of a joke. your laughter halted, however, once you took in his serious lips contorted to that of a flat line. “did you black out?” you then question, your breasts bowing shamelessly as you sat up against your soft pillows.

“i might’ve,” he shrugged, allowing his form to press into your blanket underneath him. he left it as that, causing you to sigh out an ‘oh’ and nod your head dumbly. you wanted to say how he seemed normal, his usual self except for the fact he was a much bolder personality in bed. you blamed that on the arousal, however. wasn’t it normal for one to act more daring during sex?

“i’ve got to get going, anyways,” choso suddenly remarked, his taller figure swiftly bouncing off your bed which left you downhearted. you loved company; those fleeting moments after sex never failed to even be cherished by your heart. “your parents will be home sometime soon, won’t they?”

“yeah,” you smiled, although it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. it was sad. you felt like a pathetic little puppy dog all depressed once its owner had to leave for work. “do you want me to walk you out?”

“sure, honey.”

you then quickly threw on your discarded sundress from off the floor, trailing behind choso as his fully-dressed form strode casually through the living room, his right hand clasping around the front door’s handle.

“are you free next saturday?” you asked him, a blush on your face as he bent down to kiss your warm cheek. “yes,” he replied, flicking your cheek as if wiping an invisible tear from it. “i’ll call you. goodnight.”

and then he was off. “goodnight,” you called after him, closing the door behind him as you did. you didn’t lock it, of course, for your parents’ sake.

trailing sadly back to your room, you screamed at the sight before you.

it was toji, but he’d been out of the wall. there he was, in all his cruel glory, sitting nonchalantly on the edge of your bed. he’d developed his lower limbs; his legs and thighs, of course, just as muscular as the rest of him. yet, there was something about him that contrasted his buff appearance. maybe it was his clenched waist, a waist you slightly envied. maybe it was his fringed hair-style, an unserious look for a demon.

he looked, nonetheless, dare you even say it, normal for an evil creature. in evil creature standards?

and then you felt ridiculous for casting so much attention onto his appearance when there was a much larger issue at stake.

“what are you doing on my bed?”

he didn’t answer, of course, his devilish eyes glancing up-and-down your swaying form. you wondered what he was thinking about, wondering if you could even touch him. you strode towards him, your thoughts governing your impulsive thoughts. your hand stretched to caress his cheek, but right before you did, he vanished.

you gasped, goosebumps growing across your skin as you felt the presence of him running up and down your arms. his aura possessed you entirely, but not literally; in a metaphorical sense, toji’s spirit danced all throughout your shivering form. you could tell he reappeared behind you, the buzzing sensation of his arms interlocked across your waist as he put his ghostly lips just below your earlobe. it must be frustrating, you thought as you allowed him to quietly take you in. it must be frustrating to not be able to communicate, at least not in the vocal way.

he bit at your earlobe a little, causing you to laugh angelically at the playful, ticklish feeling. you could feel his chest against your back bounce happily. at least you knew entities could laugh.

he placed a little kiss at the nape of your neck, his arms unlinking themselves from you. you turned around, interested in seeing what clever expression toji would have on his handsome, evil face. your smile dropped when you discovered he wasn’t there, wasn’t hiding away in any little corner of your room.

“toji?” you called, but to no avail. “toji?” you nonetheless tried again, your legs pacing across your room and into different parts of the cottage room in some attempt to find him. he was gone.

that night, he hadn’t returned to the wall, either. you’ve gotten used to his glowing eyes staring you down as you slept, a strange conformality you so desperately missed. even when your parents returned home, kissing you a goodnight on the top of your forehead, you still found yourself crying to sleep.

the sorrowful cries continued throughout the duration of two-weeks, the fever of your sobs heightening as you would soon discover choso had been found expectedly dead the week afterward.

everything felt the same to you these days.

your bedsheets had gone unwashed for four weeks, the comforter stained with the scarlet-red residue of your menstrual and your pillows damped by your constant tears. you’ve been planning on washing them, of course, had your father not reminded you that the blueberries were ready to be harvested.

“your mother had been planning on making blueberry compote,” he explained, clearing his throat as he reassuringly rubbed your arm as you laid motionless in bed. “blueberry compote over those buttermilk pancakes you like.”

you thanked God you at least had parents who loved you. if it hadn’t been for them, you would’ve hung yourself with your soiled bed sheets. you’ve been having those thoughts at least once a day, now.

puffy-eyed, you zoned out as you carelessly plucked at the blueberries, chucking them in your mother’s woven basket. why couldn’t your father pick his own blueberries? you tried to think positively, this outdoorsy excursion providing some form of distraction from your own thoughts.

there were no bunnies hopping aimlessly around the grassy-patch. there were no songbirds chirping melodically among themselves. there was only you, the woven basket, the fucking blueberries.

then there was a snapping. your head jerked in the direction of what you determined to be an animal stepping on a fallen branch. you hadn’t seen anything; your eyes narrowed before they darted back to watch your own hands work.

another snap. you tilted your head once more, your heartbeat beginning to race. two more snaps commenced, causing your legs to rise up to your full length.

and then, emerging from the bushes and branches of the forest just to the right of you, there he stood.

“choso?” you gasped, the blueberry basket in your grasp collapsed towards where your feet rooted.

there were clear indications that it was him; his exhausted, heavily bruised eyes, his cocoa-brown tresses, the scars that laid across his delicate nose’s bridge. yet, there was something sinisterly new about him. his eyes were narrowed, his gaze pointed hungrily at you as if you were a delicious bambi-doe. his lips curled upward into a simper, as if there was some inside joke between him and only him. his irises, interestingly enough, glowed a soft, orchid-purple hue.

realistically, you should’ve known that it wasn’t truly choso. he wasn’t Jesus, the simple human unable to rise himself up from his perish after months. perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the desperation that constantly lurked through every crevice of your brain. you ran to him, ran to the figure who you presumed to be your beloved choso.

“choso,” you sobbed and heaved pathetically against his chest. you hugged your arms tightly around his waist, so tight that the man could die again. your body mournfully bounced against his, your tears so intense they stained the entire front of his tunic. he merely patted your head with his right hand, his left hand softly held your waist. “you have no idea how bad i missed you,” you hiccuped, your body suddenly heaving over as if you were about to throw up.

his hands, their softened nature, tenderly held your damp face. he peered deep into your eyes, as if he was opening the gateway to your soul.

“choso,” you rasped once more, before he pulled you in to plant an amorous, long kiss on your lips. you hadn’t quite known what ghost lips tasted like; maybe Earth and rot. you internally gagged. you thanked God, however, that ghost kisses tasted exactly like nothing. there’d been no smell nor taste, similarly to those unscented soap bars your mother would make every first of the month.

you kissed for quite a long time; his tongue suddenly found itself slipped deviously inside your mouth. you moaned, his ghostly hands curiously exploring the mounds and curves of your body.

you don’t recall how or when, but you do remember finding your back kissing the bark of an old sycamore tree. his hands roamed throughout your body, his hands cupping the softness of your tits and the plumpness of your ass. you squealed in his mouth, feeling his cock harden against your thighs.

he fucked you right there and then, his cock suddenly in his hands before he slipped it between the warm folds of your cunt.

you moaned, the songbirds above you seem to chirp along to every little sound you made. he ripped the top of your baby-pink dress, your hardened tits peeking out at him as he pinched them. he nipped at the soft of your neck, his bite becoming intense as you began to reach nirvana.

“fuck,” you rasped, your eyes shut in ecstacy as your mouth formed an erotic ‘o’ shape. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

you peeked an eye out, your movements and noises suddenly stilling as you noticed toji’s face smirking back at you.

you then orgasmed, your screams of both pleasure and horror scattered the crows that were once perched on the tree branches above you. you fell to your knees, your screams growing in fervor as tears began to stream down your trembling face.

you remained in your state of shock, even long after your father had ran to you and carried you home. the basket of blueberries had been left on the ground.

everyone had thought you were crazy; you were sure of it. you were beginning to think you were truly crazy, too.

you were in your bed once more, a bowl in your hands. hazelnut soup this time, another one of your mother’s delicacies.

you felt awful; your head was throbbing, your eyes were puffy, your ass hurt from falling on it. you were sure your hair looked disarrayed, but external beauties didn’t mean shit if internally you felt suicidal.

your parents had left you at home again, your father heading off to town to find a shrink while your mother set off to find some medicinal treatments. town wasn’t too far, thankfully, so you wouldn’t be left alone for too long.

in the window behind you, something tapped irregularly. you ignored it, at first, your perpetual state of numbness too strong to escape from. you only managed to snap out of it when something hard was thrown at your window, the sudden bang of it making you jump in place. you scurried to the sill, your shaky hands swiftly opening the pane to peek your head out.

nothing save for the cool breeze and howling owls were out there. peculiar.

closing the window behind you, you immediately shouted when you turned back round to face your bed.

there he was again; choso’s form, but toji’s face inhibited it. it was something out of those stephen king novels, something so eerie it couldn’t possibly be reality.

“leave me alone,” you howled, falling to your knees and scurrying to the corner of your room where the evil entity prowled closer. “leave me the fuck alone.”

“why?” choso’s raspy, creaky voice questioned, when in truth it was truly toji’s. his smug face sneered, his sharp teeth bared and shining.

you screamed, your hands interlocked as you dug your face into your shaky knees. you rocked madly back and forth, the stench of rot and swamp drawing closer to your trembling form.

“what’re you so scared of?” the terrifying tone questioned, his hands resting on your moistened-from-sweat thighs. you timidly glanced from between your tresses, your heart suddenly stopping once you took in toji’s face. you could feel the pumping in the organ coming to a halt, your pupils dilating to the extreme as your mouth was opened in a silent scream. his purple-hued scleras coupled with the emergence of sharp, razor-teeth influenced every tissue in your body to remain very still. you could see the entity move closer to your horrified form, the teeth then sinking harshly into the skin of your neck. you couldn’t even wail; you were forced to wordlessly endure his brutal torture.

your waterlines, to toji’s accord, began to kiss each other as your eyes found themselves closed shut. the sensation of an unexpected breeze whoosked throughout your entire body; had you could, you would’ve intensely shivered. the hair on your skin’s surface found itself raised, and then instantaneously rested. the world around you had grown quiet and dark, a fact you were able to govern even from behind the mulberry-colored darkness of your eyelids.

you felt very light, like a fairy soaring over a beautiful field of dandelions. there’d been no weight on you, not from what you feel as you arose from what appeared to be an extremely restful slumber. you rubbed your eyes, your brain too foggy and tired to completely register the darkness that encompassed your glowy figure. you’d then noticed, of course, as you eventually would’ve had to, anyways.

you rubbed your eyes once more, somehow convinced that this would’ve changed the trajectory of your current predicament. “mom?” you called out, your voice light and unsure as you contemplated if this was another nightmare you were in. no response from your mother, as predicted. you began to slightly panic, your chest labored and your airy legs began to pace in circles. “dad?” you wailed, your voice growing in tremor. “mom? dad?”

“they’re not here,” a voice – toji’s – captivated your startled form. you spun dangerously around, your vocal chords dancing as you screamed bloody murder.

“where am i?” you sobbed, sinking down to your knees as you cried and shook. “where’s my parents?”

“they’re not here,” toji simply repeated, his muscular, whispery legs drawing closer to your woeful, tiny body. “you’re home.”

“no,” you hissed, crawling away from toji’s extended arms and handsome smile. “no, i’m not fucking home.”

his smile never faltered, but the little devilish gleam in his eyes subdued. “you are,” he insisted, your angry scowl and furrowed eyebrows challenging his claim. “this is your home now, too.”

“the fuck are you talking about?” you cussed, your smart-mouth suddenly shutting as he presented you with an image. your sight was replaced with the visual of your cold, murdered body on your bedroom’s oakwood-floors. your beloved parents had been crying over you, crowding your form.

your throat tightened as you felt the urge to gag.

“no!” you wailed, your body shaking violently as you pressed yourself deeper into the deception-flooring beneath you. “nonononowhycouldyoudothistomehowcouldyoudothistomewhatthefuckareyou.”

toji simply stared, unmoving nor unblinking as he observed you.

“isn’t this what you wanted?” you could hear him question, a sheen of scarlet-red coated your vision as you peered up at him through glaring eyes.

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

“that one night,” he began, his expression and tone steady. “when you wrapped that fabric around your neck-”

“-that was not for you to fucking take,” you interrupted, unable to bring your dead spirit form off the floor. “that would’ve been on my fucking terms, toji.”

silence. you found yourself growing silent for a beat, too.

“i’m enamored with you,” toji then admitted, your eyes softening not from love, but from pure defeat.

“why, toji?” you couldn’t help but question. “why did you have to appear in my wall?”

“i saved you,” he responded, surprisingly without cockiness or smugness.

you scoffed.

“you had a mundane life-”

“-i had a happy life,” you corrected. “comfortable, even.”

“is that why you tried to kill yourself?”

“oh my fuck-” you screamed, burrowing your head into into your palms.

“don’t fight it,” you could hear toji say, and you could hear the stupid little smirk he had plastered throughout his words.

“what now?” you despairingly questioned his ghostly, vibrant form. “what do you expect from me, now?”

“i expect you to wed me,” he shrugged, his head cocked as if that statement had been fucking truly expected.

nonetheless, you did wed him. it was a simple wedding; a few other ghostly figures attended, none of which you personally recognized. toji tried to pass them off as your ancestors, but you knew he was lying shamelessly through his teeth. you hadn’t worn a beautiful gown, nor had he’d worn a luxurious tux. you’d both been adorning the outfits you’d passed on in the human realm.

it’s funny, you noted; funny how the only marriage you’d ever have would not have come until you were passed into the spirit realm. you used to daydream about your possible marriage to choso, now here you were getting wed to his murderer. you wondered where choso’s spirit had gone, his presence not sensed nor seen in the small crowd present. you suspected that he’d gone to a better place, perhaps somewhere like heaven. he was an angel on earth with you, it would only be right for him to be where lightness constantly shone on his skin like crystals.

toji simply had his soul banished.

“do you accept her to be your wife?” the unearthly priest-ghost questioned.

“i do,” toji answered.

the priest swiveled to peer into you, his pearl-like eyes sunken into his wrinkled-face.

“do you accept…” his cracked voice began. “...to take toji as your husband for eternity?”

you peered into the eyes of toji, his scalera’s enticing as they shone an adoring hue of orchid-purple just for you.

“i do.”

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #toji x y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen

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frozenfoxtails · 9 months

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I am officially done with people using the word millenial to refer to kids these days, first of all, you're not even making correct observations, millenials didn't grow up with cellphones, some of us started getting them as teenagers, but they were by no means ubiquitous, second of all, while millenials were told that we were special a lot growing up, it was our parents and grandparents who were obsessed with participation trophies, most millenials have a complicated relationship with being awarded because of it, third of all, we did not create facebook or myspace or instagram or twitter, boomers and X-ers did, and then marketed them to us. It seems so obvious to me that a 15 year old would not have been a software developer or a web developer for however many years it took for Twitter to be created. Like, if I was in charge of making twitter happen, I would have had to be like 8 when I got hired. When I was 8 I peed my pants in class and then tried to lie about it, but yeah, I was definitely in charge of directing millenial culture and "obsession" with technology. Stop giving people with no perspective platforms, it helps no one. Like even people who i trust to be level headed are sharing posts and videos about "the millenial" or whatever, and these people just didn't even do a little bit of research about anything they're complaining about.

"Millenials don't form deep friendships," we do, often online, often with people from other countries, we just don't see them in person because they live in england or japan or wherever "Millenials are too casual with their work ethic," first of all, work ethic is a scam, but if you want to play that game, when you're talking about 18 year olds saying rizz to their bosses, or wearing normal presentable street clothes instead of business casual, you're talking about Zoomers or even alphas. "Millenials are too sensitive and need to toughen up," I will give you that millenials are a sensitive generation, we are the fast forward generation and the transitional generation between historical societal stability and modern acceptance of regressive policy, we love justice because we grew up with the expectation that we would see the benefits of our hard work and we've been shit on every step of the way. We are already tougher than the last two generations at least because millenials are the ones protesting and getting shot and being blacklisted and abducted and tortured by the government for using our constitutional rights to demand better from the state. So yeah, millenials are an entitled, whiny, weak generation who want the world handed to them on a silver platter, and we are, because we are entitled to the benefits of our labor, we will continue to whine until we get those benefits, and if the terms of our contract were for you to give me a silver platter, you better believe I'm getting that fucking platter.

#personal #frustrations #rants #idk im just fucking angry

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flovverworks · 1 year

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When moments like that creep upon Look down Every step you took toughened the world

Although I may be flawed But aren't we all

ough its these two parts T_^

#stardust speaking !#everytime this song plays i get so emotional i looovvveeeeeeee mili sm................#i dont rly have anything to say + i dont even have time but ;_; lsiten to flowerworks

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toestalucia · 3 years

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the lyrics for mili's cast me a spell && flowerworks are living rentfree in my head

#stardust speaking !#i...cant stop thinking about yhen.....#power to know that youre hurting someone else........#every step that you took toughened the world..........#if you call it magic then youre my wizard.............#man im just (gestures)

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kaitsawamura · 3 years

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would you like to stay forever?

SUMMARY⎮ Sparring with Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro in his private gym at his home doesn't seem like a bad idea if you don't count the fact that you really, really like him.

STATS⎮ minors do not interact, 18+ ⎮ Rating: M (for mature) ⎮ WC: 5525 ⎮ Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader ⎮ Tags: Aged Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Sparring, Smut, Fluff, Age/Experience Gap (if you really squint) ⎮ AO3

NOTES⎮ Thanks to @spacelabrathor for listening to me scream about this and to @some-kindofgnome for fueling my Kiri fever dreams. Yes, that title is based on a Mulan quote. This whole fic was based on THIS POST and Kirishima seemed like the perfect character for this pwp. Hope y'all enjoy! (Also please for the love of God, click on the banner to see in HD if you’re on mobile, it looks so much better lol)

It was Saturday and even though you’re on your way to becoming a Pro Hero, you can think of several things you’d rather be doing with your one day off than going to Kirishima Eijiro’s house to spar. But here you are pulling into his driveway, going over combat moves in your head as if your life depended on it. They weren’t really serving their purpose which was to distract yourself. Kiri had offered up his personal gym, encouraged you to stop by with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as if he was nervous.

A couple of his friends had already taken him up on the offer. You were the only one he’d offered who hadn’t come over yet. He had texted you a couple of weeks later saying he was starting to take it personally… and then immediately texted with a laughing emoji just to clarify he was only giving you a hard time. It brings a smile to your face now as you remember it. Yesterday he had also clarified it would just be the two of you if you were self-conscious sparring in front of other people. You’d have the whole place to yourselves. Like that should mean something. Which it did. It does , you realize with butterflies growing in your stomach. Kiri doesn’t need to know that though.

The two of you had been toeing around something since you had been hired at Fatgum’s Agency a year ago. Neither of you had made a move. Kirishima, the Red Riot, was a big Pro Hero and while you took pride in your quirk, it didn’t hold a coin to some of the others you’d come in contact with. It had surprised you when Toyomitsu had brought you on. But he had mumbled something about “liking your spunk” and that he thought a teleportation quirk would be a useful one to add to his agency. The first day you had shown up, Kiri had immediately caught your eye. Not for the obvious reasons. Obvious reasons being the fact that he was climbing the Pro Hero charts or the fact that he had a dynamically interesting quirk or that at twenty-five he was already built like a brickhouse.

Those were all valid reasons, yes, but what had pulled you in was his smile and his genuine interest in you outside of your quirk. But he was just like that you had quickly discovered. He knew everyone’s coffee order and what they liked for lunch. He knew when to push and when to back off. He knew when to talk and when to listen , knew when he still had a lesson to learn. The kids flocked to him. Even now you’re still entirely convinced that’s actually his quirk, getting people to like him. It’s not a difficult thing to do though.

Your brain stutters back to the present when a text notification pings from your cell phone as you sit in Kiri’s driveway, picking at non-existent lint on your gym shorts. The cute ones you’re still convincing yourself were your only clean pair and that’s the only reason you wore them.

KIRI : i saw u pull up, u gonna come in or what 😂

Had he been waiting for you to get there? You tapped out a quick response, one that hid the little flip in your stomach at the thought: creeper, you were watching for me lmao

Response bubbles immediately flash on your phone screen but you’re angling out of your car and shutting the door before he can reply.

Somehow, this house fits Kiri perfectly. It isn’t big. You had seen pictures of other top-ranking Pros’ houses. Enji Todoroki’s house, for example, was fucking ridiculous. But even without a massive floor plan, Kiri’s house is nicer than any you’d been in for some time. Clean, straight lines and lots of windows. In fact, you can see straight through the floor-to-ceiling windows out to his backyard when you reach the front door. Is that a pool ? Kiri had tons of fun showing pictures at the agency; it was a well-deserved investment for his already multiple years of service as a Pro. The pictures hadn’t done the place justice though.

Kiri comes to the door, throwing it wide open with a huge grin that shows off his sharp teeth. You ignore the way your mouth goes dry as he drags you in, babbling on like an excited little kid at you actually coming.

“I really thought you were gonna back out! I mean, that would have been fine, of course. I just can’t see the point of having the whole place to myself all the time.” He’s irresistibly cute, walking around showing you the living room and the kitchen and pointing out to the backyard where, yes, there is indeed a pool. “You can come over any time and use that too if you want!” You thank him, warmth pooling in your stomach at how incredibly nice he is.

“Uh, we should probably get in the gym. I have… stuff to do later,” you finish lamely. You don’t have anything to do later but very quickly you’re realizing how far out of your depth you are here. The familiar beginnings of the head over heels fall is washing over you in steady waves. But you’re coworkers and the thought of coming to work every day and having to see his adorable face and not doing anything about it is almost making you nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just down the hallway,” he rumbles, leading the way and you follow trying and failing miserably to calm the nerves flashing through your veins. You’re here alone with Kiri , the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d started working with him a year ago. And now your stupid brain isn’t just thinking about what it would feel like to run your tongue along his teeth or how his hands would feel between your legs. No, your stupid brain is thinking about what Kiri looks like when he first opens his eyes in the morning.

Your one-track mind is not getting any help, especially when Kiri walks through the doorway of the gym addition and immediately proceeds to pull his shirt up and over his shoulders and tosses it to the side. Shit. His back muscles ripple with the movement and when he turns to face you, it’s heart-wrenchingly obvious that he has no idea the effect he’s having on you. He has to know . Doesn’t he? From your end, it seems wildly obvious that someone as good-looking as him should know .

You glance around, eternally grateful for the fact that the gym is also attractive. Floor to ceiling windows span two of the walls here as well and there’s a large set of French doors leading out to the yard. You find yourself actually in awe when you get a better look at the landscaping. It’s so green . There’s a small patch of lawn but the rest is just artfully arranged native flora and fauna. Violets, tulips. Huge hosta plants. And cherry trees heavy with their signature sakura blossoms.

“Kiri, it’s beautiful!” He comes to stand beside you, looking out the French doors as well.

“You like it? I guess it is pretty nice, huh?” You glance up at him, your chest expanding on a lurch looking at his smile. You’d never noticed before but he has a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

“Yeah, really nice.” You look out again, letting the silence grow until it feels like the most comfortable thing in the world. After what seems like an eternity Kiri clears his throat, rocking back on the balls of his feet. “What are you thinking for today?” The question leaves your lips and you’re immediately regretting it; your stomach flips again when Kiri looks at you like you’re prey.

“Close combat, hand-to-hand combat. You did mention a while ago you wanted to strengthen that, right?” You throw your head back, rolling your eyes, and groan. The two of you make your way to the center of the mat.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d be scared to take me on too,” Kiri says, large hands on even larger hips. He isn’t as tall as some of the other heroes at six foot three inches but he’s wide , thick. You know for a fact you couldn’t wrap your arms around his waist and have your hands meet. He’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. The sharpened points of his canines are out and on prominent display. Famous last words you think as a snarl erupts on your face.

“I’m not scared , Kiri. I just don’t want to wear you out . You’re a Pro Hero. You’re on the job a lot more than I am. Plus, you’re getting kind of old. Is that a little gray I see coming in?” Kiri bares his teeth even more but it’s not lost on you that he quickly reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair. There isn’t any gray, obviously , but the thought has Red Riot distracted. Distracted enough that when you plant your feet and your fist connects with his face, your knuckles hit skin and not the reinforced rock of his quirk.

“ Shit.” Kiri takes a step back, reaching up to cradle his jaw. His tongue swipes out to lick at the blood on his bottom lip. His vermillion eyes find yours and if you didn’t work with him on a regular basis, you would have felt fear at this moment. You know he wouldn’t hurt you but even now, a thrill races through your veins like electricity. He looks as if he’s going to devour you. You take your own step back, readying your quirk, reaching out to it as your fists hold their position in front of your body. A dark chuckle spills from his chest as Kiri calls on his own quirk.

Now it was your turn to be distracted; you had always been fascinated by Kiri’s quirk, the way his body looked when it hardened up. The ripples of muscle still visible under the toughened skin. The divots and ridges and how they mapped their way across his shoulders and chest and abdomen. You knew how it felt to the touch in fake combat. The Fatgum heroes all took pride in maintaining a healthy routine; sparring was a common workout that was previously done at a local public gym. You wonder absently what it would feel like to touch him slow and at the moment. When you could give extra attention with extra time.

Kiri closes the space between the two of you at the moment your mind strays and you barely are able to teleport out of the way to avoid him crashing into you. You try to take a swipe at him as you materialize from in front of him to behind but this time he’s ready for you and he’s using his quirk. Instead of moving out of the way, he plants his feet and allows your punch to hit. Pain radiates up through your fingers and wrist. It always irritated you that you had to prepare yourself to strike Kiri when he was using his quirk. Otherwise, you’d be in for a whole lot of hurt every time you landed a punch.

Teleportation is a pretty handy quirk. It gives you a pretty good advantage the more you work on your close combat skills. The trick with Kiri was to keep going at him until he ran out of energy. You hadn’t gotten to that point yet; your quirk had its limits as well. You were only two years out of UA, Kiri was out by seven. His strength was already fairly unmatched; sparring with him was always good practice. You relish the thought of the day you can win a sparring session without tapping out. It surges through you like pure energy.

You teleport to stand in front of him again, shifting your weight into your hips and up through your right hook. This time your fist connects with Kiri’s side and he lets out a small grunt. Your fingers don’t hurt so bad this time and by the time Kiri is retaliating, you jump back a few feet. He hmms, a sound that reverberates from his chest.

“That’s all well and good but how do you expect to do anything if you jump that far away?” He lunges forward at a running start, leaping at the last second, sending his gloved fist into your stomach. You were fast, but still not always fast enough. You double over, the air rushing from your lungs and your pre-workout protein smoothie threatening to exit back the way it went in. Sweat is already beading on your brow and sliding under your tank top. You take a few breaths through your nose when an idea pops into your head; you stay bent over. “Hey, I didn’t hit you that hard. You good?”

Kiri comes to stand in front of you, leaving him vulnerable. He can’t see your smirk until it’s too late. You wail on him, using some of the basic combos he’s taught you before today. Satisfaction rolls through you when he actually takes a step back. But then he puts his arms up in front of him, clenching his abdomen and bending inward to protect his core. He drops just a fraction and before you realize what’s happening, he’s swiping his leg out to push through yours. You watch in slow motion as you see his laughing face then the ceiling of the gym as you flip and land on your back.

If you thought you were out of breath before… “Fuuu-.” It’s a wheeze that feels like it’s ripping your chest open. You’re seeing stars. Kiri stands over you, hands on his hips again. You stare at his face; the hero has his hair pulled back into a bun. You snort, rolling your eyes. Why does he still look so fucking good? The sweat has caused some of the pieces falling out of his hair tie to curl. His hair has curl to it? You’ve never noticed before, considering he always gels it into spikes. You like the curl. “Are you--are you gonna help me up, or what?” It was still painful to talk.

Kiri tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and crosses his arms. “I’m thinking not. Last time I let down my guard you got those good combos in.” You stare in stunned silence, sitting up so you’re supported by your elbows. Kiri shifts slightly and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s backing up to… get a better view.

“Is that any way to treat your student, Red Riot?” You know you get under his skin when he clicks his tongue against his teeth and holds out a hand with a begrudging eye roll. He pulls you up with ease, quickly enough that you almost lose your balance, swaying into his space. You look up, eyes moving back and forth between his.

He draws in a breath and drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “First of all,” he says as he places his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not your teacher. I’m not that much older than you. Secondly,” he mutters as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “our relationship isn’t that formal is it?” He’s so fucking close. This is getting dangerous. Dangerous because Kiri is within kissing distance. Dangerous because this gentle side of him is making you lose more breath than falling on your ass. Dangerous because the thought of Kiri taking you on the floor right now is almost too much to bear.

So you fall back on what you’re here to do. Fight. You flash him a wicked smile before rallying your quirk and teleporting a few feet away. His hand is still raised in mid-air and when his head whips to look in your direction, his crimson eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flared. He laughs and rolls his neck, dancing on his toes.

“Okay. I see. I’m not gonna go easy on you, you know?” You snort and put your fists up in front of you again.

“As if you were going easy on me before, Kiri. Bring it on.” He smiles, the sharp points of his teeth enough to make your thoughts swerve again before you bring them under control. “Bring it on,” you whisper more to yourself as you brace for the fight.

Two hours later, you feel the strain in your muscles. Your quirk is running low on reserves and you know you won’t be able to use it much more. Kiri looks like he hasn’t wasted a breath but you can see he’s getting tired in the way his feet don’t move as sharply. And if the length of time he’s using his quirk is any indication to his state of mind, you know the two of you will be calling it a day soon. But you’re also both stubborn. And you’re dying to get one more good move in on him.

The cockiness the two of you had at the beginning of the sparring session hasn’t gone away but has burned hot into determination. No more smiles, only clear-headed concentration. The two of you are an arm's length from each other, throwing various punches and switching quickly between using your quirks and not. You’re breathing hard, sweat gathering at your brow as you throw another right hook that Kiri easily blocks.

“Get out of your head. You can be too predictable sometimes.” He doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude but the words strike a match to a guttering fire. You bare your own teeth at Kiri even though they aren’t sharp and probably don’t look nearly as threatening but it helps you feel powerful nonetheless. You drop without a second thought, lowering to your palms and sweeping your leg out in front of you in a wide arc. A grin spreads across your face when your calf meets Kiri’s ankle. He’s too physically dense for this move to work if he had seen it coming. But he doesn’t. And his solid 220 pounds of muscle falls hard.

You allow yourself the satisfaction of the moment for only a split second; Kiri’s recovery time is much shorter than yours so it isn’t long before he’s scrambling forward. He goes straight for your wrists to subdue you but with a smirk, you realize in his haste he’s put himself in the perfect position for you to possibly gain the upper hand. You scoot up away from him just enough to drag his arm forward and swing your legs around his neck. Then you elevate your hips and lock your core.

It’s over from there as you squeeze with every last ounce of strength left in your body. It doesn’t take long for him to tap out. You release as soon as you feel his loose hand tap your arm; he collapses over you and you’re too tired to move away or push him off. Now his breathing is rough and you feel a surge of pride. You reach up and place your hand on his head where his bun has come undone; he’s so heavy but it doesn’t feel bad. In fact, the feel of Kirishima resting his head and upper chest on your stomach is feeling nothing short of good . He’s still between your legs and suddenly the air is crackling with a new kind of energy when you gently comb your fingers through his hair.

He rises up, his hands on either side of you. His hips rest between your legs; the mingled heat radiating from both of you is almost more than you can take but there is no way you’re going to move anywhere. He leans forward, so close you can see the flecks of burnt orange in his eyes. If you moved forward just a little, you could close that space between you. He leans down more, his mouth right next to the shell of your ear.

“Maybe not always predictable. You did good today. Probably some of the best fighting I’ve seen from you so far. Keep it up.” He grunts, a shift of his hips allowing the curve of his cock to brush against your clothed sex through his gym shorts. He stiffens in what you think might be embarrassment. “Shit, sorry, let me just, uh--” The stuttering mess he becomes right before your eyes makes something lurch in your chest; you reach for his face without thinking.

“Kiri,” you whisper, rolling your own hips against his. His cheeks are burning a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair. You bring up your other hand, holding his face between them and bringing him down to settle over you once more. Your lips meet his; he seems to war with himself for just a moment. A suspended second in time. But then he gives in, slipping his tongue against yours in a delicious sliding vision of what’s coming.

He reaches between you to slip his hand under your tank top; his hand is big and nearly encompasses your side. But it’s warm and gentle. Gentle. Who would have guessed that Red Riot could be so fucking gentle? But he is and when his hand moves lower to slide below the hem of your shorts, you give yourself to him with no reservations. His middle finger passes through the mess of your sex; a hissed breath rattles through his chest as your back arches on a ragged groan.

“ Shit. You’re so wet .” He slides his finger back and forth, gathering your slick on the thick digit. He takes his hand away and you mewl. “Can I?” He asks breathlessly as he hooks his hands on the hem of your shorts. You nod, eyes half-lidded. He pulls them down along with your underwear and the way he looks at you, at what’s between your legs, you don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious. Adoration. It’s the only word you can think of and it makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake waiting so long.

He’s on his knees when he takes your legs and drapes them on either side of his hips; this time he doesn’t hesitate in slipping his finger into your cunt. You nearly see stars just from that and if one finger is any indication, you’re in for it. Slowly, he adds another, his hand pumping into you in a steady rhythm. You’re grabbing for the ground, grabbing for him as a strangled noise pushes from your throat. He reaches out with his other hand to splay it across your sternum and it’s the only thing anchoring you as he adds the third finger before scooting down to put his mouth on your clit.

“ Kiri,” you keen, shoving your hips into his touch, frantically scrabbling for his wrist that’s on your chest just to have something to hold on to. He’s done this before, he’s had to. He’s too good. Too fucking good. Already there’s coiling in your gut as incomprehensible words tumble from your mouth. “Shit. Shit. Kiri I’m--I’m gonna--” He rumbles approvingly against your clit; the vibrations send you closer and closer to the edge and when it crests, your back arches near pain as you cry out, your voice echoing in the gym. It’s deep, roaring through all of your limbs but Kiri keeps going, fingers still pumping, tongue still swirling around your sensitive nub.

Another orgasm breaks over you sharp and quick and the overstimulation has your legs quaking as your arousal gushes over Kiri’s hand and tongue. But then he’s moving again, and you’re blearily aware that he’s shoving his own shorts and boxers past his hips to free his cock. You stare as it bounces back to sit near the planes of his stomach; it’s already leaking steadily with precum. Kiri looks back at you and when your eyes meet, you dart your tongue out between your lips to wet them. Another time, maybe.

Kiri leans forward to lift you up and the closer you get you can barely see any red in his eyes; his pupils are blown, his nostrils flared as he lifts you like you weigh nothing . He could snap you like a twig. But he won’t. You know without a doubt this is the safest you’ve ever felt, even as he lowers you slowly over his cock and it does feel like you’re being split .

“ Fuuuck…” You wrap your legs around him, your mouth dropped open, your hands gripping his shoulders. You try not to dig your nails in but it’s almost impossible with how you’re being filled. You knew Kiri was big but this was almost too much. His forehead drops to yours as he pants. But he’s not moving, won’t move until you tell him to. It makes your heart ache and your cunt floods, drunk on the affection thrumming through your veins. You roll your hips experimentally and the friction is bliss. “Oh fuck, ohfuck.” You move again, pushing yourself up and back down, listening to the hitch in his breathing. “ Kiri, please, ” you whisper. Those words… they’re enough.

Kirishima grips you by the hips, his fingers splayed and digging into the flesh; it’ll leave bruises and the knowledge cracks through you like electricity. Let him leave marks. Let him leave them everywhere. He’s moving you up and down his cock, grunting, mumbling. “Tell me, Kiri, tell me.” His eyes meet yours again and his own mouth drops open.

“Fuck, you’re so good. S’ tight. Jesus, I-- ” Kiri moves his hands from your hips to support you as he lays you down on the floor of the gym. The idea should be questionable but it’s not, it’s fucking not and you can’t concentrate on any other thoughts when Kiri grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head with one hand while the other comes back to your hip. He thrusts into you at a brutal pace but… it feels like home and you think in that moment as your cunt begins to seize around his cock that you would give up forever to continue touching him.

“Yes, Kiri, yes. Right there, right--shit yesyes yes. ” He pistons up, the veins of his cock rubbing just right and when he releases the grip on your hands, they’re moving to wrap around him on instinct. He’s planting kisses along your jaw, mouthing up to your lips and back down to graze his teeth over your pulse point. “Do it, fuckin’ do it, let them know ‘m yours, ” you slur and when he bites down you crash over the edge on a groan that’s really more of a scream. Everything goes black but you're cradling him to you as his movements become more erratic. The snapping of his hips is getting sloppier by the second and a steady growl punches from his lungs with each breath. “Cum, Kirishima, cum inside me.”

He’s never heard those words before and it lights a fire in his veins. His head is buzzing and then he can’t hear anything as his cock releases and he’s spurting searing hot ropes of cum into your cunt. He goes until you’ve milked every last drop from him and he’d be lying if he said his world didn't suddenly feel whole. Finally, his body settles and his chest drops to yours. Everything slowly bleeds back into focus and somehow, everything seems more colorful than it did moments before. You’re still clinging to him.

“Kiri. Kiri, babe, I can’t breathe,” you say and he slowly rises, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes can barely stay open, your cheeks are flushed. He backs up to see his handiwork on display, hyper-focused on the trail of the mingling cum dripping from the mess of your sex. But you’re smiling. Lazy and tired, completely at ease. “Wanna take a shower?” When you nod he doesn’t hesitate in standing to kick his underwear and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and then he’s grabbing you, scooping you into his arms and against his chest. He pads out of the gym and across the hall to his bathroom where he deposits you on your feet, only after he’s sure you can stand and only long enough to turn the shower head-on.

He puts his hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm. Steam billows from behind the glass door when he’s turning back to you to remove your tank top and your sports bra. Thank god you chose the front-closure one today; you didn’t think either one of you wanted to struggle to get one up over your head right now. When your breasts spill out of the high-impact fabric, you notice with tender amusement that his cock is half-hard again. His eyes go dark again and he leans in for a kiss. But it's slow and sweet.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he whispers. He ignores his arousal, ushering you into the stream of water. Your care is the only thing that matters to him right now. The heat slides across your body, and when Kirishima steps up behind you and begins soaping up your shoulders, it feels like heaven .

You take turns washing each other until you’re both blissed out in a different kind of way and the only thing either one of you can think about is sleep. But the afterglow is fading and doubt is creeping in. When you step out of the water, you stand awkwardly as Kiri hands you a towel. “You okay?” He’s actually concerned and you can’t put your finger on why you’re so fucking grateful for it.

“Yea, just tired. I should, uh, probably get going.” Kiri freezes and you think you’ve said something wrong, already crossed a line. Your brain is like a broken record as the stomach-curdling image of having to see him at the agency flashes across your eyes in vivid detail. But then he’s stepping into your space and pulling you in for a hug. A hug.

“Don’t go,” he whispers into the crown of your head and it has you smiling like an idiot against his chest. His skin smells clean and warm with a hint of spice. You bury your face further in as you nod against him. Then he’s leading you to his room, to the king-sized bed. He peels back the comforter and the white sheets and pulls you in beside him. Your back is against him and he hooks his foot around your ankles, bringing you even closer.

He doesn’t say anything more, just lets out a huge sigh as he wraps his arm around you. The last thing you notice before your eyes flutter shut is how your heartbeats are thumping at the same steady rhythm.

Late afternoon sunlight slants in Kirishima’s bedroom window, creating interesting patterns across his blanket. It’s pushed towards the end of the bed, your legs intertwined and tangled in the sheets. He’s still dozing, his breathing not quite that of someone sleeping but not of a person fully awake. You reach out to cup his cheek, stroke above his eyebrows, caress his lips with your thumb. A contented sigh leaves his chest as he grabs your hand and kisses your wrist. His eyes are open now and he watches you. You smile at him, snuggling closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hey,” he says quietly, suddenly serious. “I just want you to know, I don’t do this all the time. I mean, I’ve been with other people before but I don’t… I don’t really hook up .” Things start clicking into place as you realize what he’s trying to get across. He just fucked you stupid in his personal gym and somehow he looks bashful. And because you love it, you’re not going to help him along. You just watch, biting your lip to keep from giggling. “I just. I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. And normally I would have wined and dined you first but... Well. Here we are. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

That’s the last straw; your laughter comes bubbling out of you and Kiri is leaning back to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face. “Is something funny?” That just makes you laugh a little harder but the confused look he’s wearing has you leaning in to press your lips against his.

“I’ve liked you from the first day I met you, Kiri. I’ll one-up your offer and tell you that I might like to stay forever.” A grin rips across his face and your heart blooms with warmth and affection. The world seems full of possibilities but none of them matter except for the possibility laying right in front of you.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #pro hero kirishima #red riot #kirishima smut #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kaitsuki writes #oh my god i had such brain block #writing this one #because i get too in my head writing smut #BUT i hope everyone still enjoys #we stan kiri in this house

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randomimaginesforrandompeople · 4 years

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Kicked out | Riven imagine

Request: Hello! So, I LOVE what you write. You're very talented and thank you! It makes me happy and helps during the isolation.Could write something about riven defeding his gf (the reader) during a training session under andreas and rosalind that goes to far and she's like begging to the training to stop, but they keep going? And he just steps up and stop it. Maybe later she is insecure and thinking they gonna throw her our, since she is from Earth. Anyways, thank you =)

A/N: I do not own the gif and I really hope you enjoy! Any mistakes are due to English not being my first language and/or me not proofreading this!

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Ever since the regime around Alfea changed you had been absolutely terrified of your spot at the magic school. You were from the first world and had been accepted because of your magical powers and the benefits of learning to control them, you weren’t great at it yet but you were learning. However with the changes that were going around, you were scared they would deem you as useless and kick you out. Especially since your last training session.

Rosalind wanted all the fairies to learn combat, which meant that every specialist was paired with a fairy to help them train and get better in physical fighting. Rosalind wanted everyone to be able to fight physically instead of only using magic; magic could fail you, your fists wouldn’t. Atleast that is what she said, you understood her reasoning and you didn’t even think it was a bad idea to learn some physical fighting moves, you sucked at them and knowing how to defend yourself wasn’t going to hurt, at least so you thought.

You had been paired up with Sky, which you were happy with since the two of you got along well and you knew that he would go a little easy on you and that he could really help you get better. Physical combat was hard for you, you were a mind fairy so reading people’s minds while hurting them, hurt you. You could feel and empathize with your victims making it harder to fight them. But you were determined, you were going to train and show Rosalind and Andreas that you belong at Alfea.

You had been practicing a little with your boyfriend, Riven, just so you would be prepared at the training sessions. ‘’Come on y/n, they really won’t kick you out, let’s take a break’’ you sighed ‘’But what if they do Riv? I can’t afford to take breaks’’ You wanted to go at it again but Riven stopped you by grabbing your shoulders ‘’Y/n I love you but if you don’t take a break yourself I will drag you away from the field’’ you chuckled and gave him a quick peck ‘’Fine but I want to continue in 5′’ Riven shook his head while laughing ‘’Fine, now let’s get you some water’’

You really appreciated him looking out for you, he always did. Ever since the two of you became close, he would help you calm down and relax after you’d spiral. He was always by your side and you were so grateful to have him, you loved him and he was a big reason of why you wanted to stay at alfea so desperately.

The day of the first real training had arrived. Sky was already there and waved at you and Riven as the two of you made your way to the training grounds. ‘’You’ve got this, we have been practicing so much, you know all the basics’’ You took a deep breath ‘’I got this’’ you mumbled a few times to yourself until you had actually made it to the others. ‘’I believe in you’’ Riven whispered against you before giving you a kiss on your forehead and parting ways with you, he had been assigned to Stella, which he was not happy with but you secretly found slightly amusing, and she was already waiting impatiently for him.

‘‘Are you ready?’‘ Sky asked you and you nodded. You weren’t sure you were ready but you had to be, so you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You tried to switch your powers off for now and just focus on the physical combat. So when Sky first lunged at you, you were doing fine. You blocked him and you actually smacked him to the ground. But then you felt his pain. You shook your head and continued, you had pinned him once again and felt his discomfort quickly letting him go. You hadn’t noticed that Rosalind and Andreas had showed up and were looking at you.

‘‘Y/n?’‘ you turned your head quickly and saw Rosalind looking displeased. ‘‘I want you to do that move again, and finish it’‘ You gulped, you wanted to show them that you could do it, but you really didn’t want to feel Sky’s discomfort again. You took another deep breath and set in for the attack, you succeeded and had Sky pinned to the ground yet again. There it was, the discomfort. You really wanted to let him go. You tried to repress those feelings and pushed harder, the feeling of his pain flooded over you. ‘‘I-I can feel his pain, please can I let him go?’‘ Rosalind shook her head ‘‘Do you think real enemies would hesitate to kill you after you let them go because of discomfort? No you finish it’‘ You pushed a little further, the feeling of his pain washing over you once again, the feeling was starting to affect you and the people around.

The others stopped the training to see what was going on. ‘’I-I can’t do this anymore, please’’ you pleaded with Rosalind and Andreas. You just wanted to stop, you now had to do multiple moves and cause Sky pain, which you felt too. You didn’t want to hurt him anymore, even if you knew that it wasn’t actual hurt and that as a specialist he was used to it, it killed you on the inside to hurt someone and feel it throughout your body. Riven heard your pleas and rushed over to the scene.

You were nearly sobbing as you stood in front of Sky, begging Rosalind and Andreas to let you quit. But they wouldn’t let you, he knew just how miserable you was, you had explained to him multiple times how awful you felt whenever you could feel someone elses pain. So he stepped in. ‘’That is enough’’ you turned your head to the familiair voice of your boyfriend. ‘’Can’t you see the poor girl is hurting? let her quit’’ Andreas scoffed ‘’Who do you think you are? She has to toughen up’’ Riven was fuming at this point, you were scared to intervene so you kept your mouth shut. ‘’She can feel his pain and it kills her on the inside, she should be able to quit, don’t you guys agree?’’ he asked to the other fairies and specialists around and everyone voiced their agreement. Rosalind was not happy with this stunt ‘’Fine, Y/n leave the training grounds. We’ll see if you’re still fit for this school’’

It had been two hours since the training and you had been panicking ever since. You had appreciated Riven standing up for you but you were terrified that they were going to kick you out. ‘’They can’t really kick me out right?’’ you were walking in circles through your room. ‘’I don’t think so’’ You stopped in your tracks ‘’You don’t think so? oh god they are kicking me out and then I’ll never be able to control my powers and I’ll have to leave you and then you’ll find a super hot new fairy that will be great in everything and then you’ll leave me for her and-’’ you were rambling until Riven stopped you ‘’Y/n’’ you stopped rambling and looked at Riven with tears in your eyes ‘’I don’t want to leave’’ He pulled you against him and held you close ‘’I know baby, but everything will be alright, we will figure it all out’’ you wrapped your arms around him, even though everything threatened to fall apart, you still felt a little better holding Riven close. You would figure it all out, together.

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#riven x reader #riven imagine #fate the winx saga riven #riven #fate the winx saga #fate the Winx saga imagines #freddie thorp #fate the winx saga x reader #fate the winx saga imagine #riven imagines

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physicalturian · 3 years

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[G] Gentle summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader - Part 8

[Contains spoilers from the movie, and the manga] [No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]

Words : 8662

Archive of our own

Warning : mention of suicide (follows the manga, you might know which one) mention of fear of dying

— Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

On the morning following the moving night I had with Rengoku, we had to wake up early to train but managed to have breakfast together. Everything seemed different and yet, nothing had changed. Everyone around us was still training, diligently so, never stopping until they would fall exhausted on the ground. People would come and go from the place to get ready under different Pillars than those who had stayed at the Butterfly estate. Rengoku and I were the starting point of the training, we were the ones to get everyone slowly acclimated to the fighting, but it was only a matter of time before they were sent to coach under Uzui to better their stamina. Oh, and the look of pure horror on their faces when they would return from those days of training, face long and muscles sore.

Those who would train with Gyomei were too far away to return to this estate and would stay at a nearby place, along with recruits that would train with Mitsuri. More traumatized trainees would come back from Obanai’s training, their gaze devoid of any emotions as they’d shiver at the mere mention of the Pillar in question. I had heard his method was drastic to say the least, mortifying if I listened to those who would return to the mansion at the end of the day. On the first day I had returned, I realized that this was no simple training; something was at stake, they had to improve, they hadto get better by the end of this or they would not last a fight with Muzan and his remaining henchmen.

Coming back to reality, I looked at Rengoku and asked with a bit of worry laced in my voice, “Is there a reason why the training is so intense this year? I thought Pillars were only supposed to train those who would inherit their will?” I had asked, seated right next to a very awake man while I was still half-sleep, shivers running through my body from the cold of having left the futon only minutes ago. “Ah yes! Well, to start, if we defeat Muzan, there will be no need for Pillars anymore.” He said with a big smile, my heart clenched in my chest at the mention of the famous demon we had been training to defeat for too long already. “Why, yes… But it seems like some very intense training. Not that I mind, we could all use some, but it also seems a lot different.” I replied, observing the recruits outside. “At the swordsmith village, something unbelievable happened, we are trying to reproduce that.” He hummed, focusing on his food, still smiling.

Nudging Rengoku’s elbow, I gestured for him to explain. Realizing he had forgotten to continue, he nodded, took my hand and scooted closer, his knee touching mine as he proceeded to explain all about the mark they had discovered; how Tanjirou had been the first one among them on which it had appeared, followed by Muichiro and Mitsuri. He added that when they returned from the village they had a meeting, but he could not attend it due to the state he was in; he was told they had decided to reproduce the conditions in which the mark appeared. “Giyuu told me young Tokito was the only one who was able to properly explain what had happened.” He said happily while taking another bite of his food—as he did so, his hand slid to my thigh and he absent-mindedly caressed it. “Young Tanjirou and Mitsuri lacked a way with words, and I heard it angered Sanemi, but they still managed to agree unanimously on the course of action to take, which was to work hard to reproduce those conditions.” He finished, nodding to himself.

Kyojuro tried to recall what else was important to say, but I interrupted him by leaning over, my hands resting on his opposite thigh while I looked in the court in shock. “Kyo- Kyo-” I hit his knee a few times, “The demon girl is in the sun! She shouldn’t-“ Sprinting out of the room, I crossed the veranda and rushed to her side. My bare feet hit the pebbles and grass full force, making me wince at each step. Upon reaching her side quicker than I expected, I took off my haori in panic and threw it on her. Both girls that accompanied her looked in confusion and waited a moment, so did I as I tried to catch my breath. “Get her back inside! Why are you letting her-“ Smiling in the most adorable way, the demon girl said my name and lifted the haori from her head to grin, “Thank you!” She seemed to be stammering, clearly struggling to speak but she continued, “I can walk—in the sun.” She pointed at the sky, in case I hadn’t understood her.

I stood there in awe and hesitantly removed the haori from her form, still frowning in confusion. Not knowing what to say, I stood in front of her, unmoving; she did not seem bothered and waited for me to ask anything or to leave, she was patient. “How?” I let out under my breath, my gaze never leaving her. Never in my years as a slayer had I seen this happen, it could change so much.

A hand on my shoulder startled me, a gasp leaving my lips. I recognized the feeling of the hand before turning around to look at the person. Rengoku slid his hand to rest it on my waist and pulled me closer, smiling. “Nezuko can now walk in the sun, she sacrificed herself for the village and for some reason, well…” He explained confidently, gesturing at her smiling face that he mirrored gladly. The two girls accompanying Nezuko tried to usher her away, but before leaving, the miraculous demon girl grabbed my hand and bowed, thanking me again before leaving. I smiled, unsure and embarrassed at my actions then bid her goodbye. “It does not make sense…” I muttered.

It made Rengoku laugh fully while he guided us back inside, “Do not worry, I do not understand either. I am simply very happy that young Tanjirou’s sister is getting better. His will to find a remedy to her condition is doing miracles, is it not?” He asked, his eyes ever so wide and bright. Staring back at him, for a moment I forgot what we were talking about and simply got lost in his beautiful eyes; I couldn’t help myself from cradling his face and kissing his cheek lovingly. “I missed your laugh, and your smile.” He beamed, flustered and happy, and cradled my face back to kiss my lips with just as much love, if not more. “So did I, my love. That does not mean I will go easy on you when we are training the recruits.” He winked before kissing my forehead and sitting back down to finish eating.

Once we were done eating, we went to train the recruits. It was good to be distracted for most of the day, only doing what your body told you to, which was to fight back. Since none of the present recruits of Rengoku’s had been able to hit him, he told them that if they could land a hit on me, he'd give them a chance to strike him. They were fueled up for some reason, probably thinking it would be easy, but I did not have that teacher aura Kyojuro had. I felt no regrets in tackling them to the ground when they did not think and would act rashly. It made their determination falter each time, only Rengoku’s words could cheer them up, “Come on, get up and fight!” he would say, or even, “Don’t back down in front of an obstacle! They hinder your path to toughen you up, stand tall and try again!” He indeed had a way with words and was the only reason the trainees still had hope, he kept their morale up. I admired him for doing so much for all of us.

I made sure to talk about it to him on that evening when we had eaten and were now walking outside under the stars, just like our first evening. “Kyo?” He perked up at his name, his hand tightening around mine with a hum echoing from his throat inquisitively. “Thank you, for being…” cheerful? Hopeful? Determined? Optimistic to a fault? “You. For being you. You are probably the sole reason those recruits think there is hope.” I said confidently, making him huff a laugh. He brought me closer, his steps slowly coming to a stop as he pulled me against him, his back now resting against the wall. “We are all working hard, every Pillar has hope we will make it through. Give them some credit, my dearest.” He said with a beautiful smile. I felt my cheeks heat up and shook my head, “I suppose you are right, I have yet to see them train them,” I started, placing my hand on the fabric on his chest where he delicately slid it under his kimono and onto his chest, a stupid smile adorning his features.

Ignoring his playfulness, I added, “I was talking to myself. Hearing you be so determined is getting to me, in more ways than one but mostly…” I trailed off, my eyes meeting his again. I removed the patch from his left eye and looked at both of them, smiling. “It seems you have managed to give me hope, and I cannot say it does not scare me.” Blinking in surprise, his eyes widened before glimmering with pure happiness. His hands that were resting on my lower back brought me in a tight hug that I returned in no time, “Fear is inevitable, but we have to work with it not against it. If it paralyzes you, find someone that will push you to take that one step, if it makes you lose your determination, find someone that will lend you their strength. And if it makes you lose yourself, then I’ll find you without failing.” He whispered, only I was meant to hear this, it was not a secret of any sort but that intimacy we had was not to be shared with the world. It was him and I, at this very moment it was just us, no one else around, we were alone together.

Wrapping my arms tighter around him, I felt my heart soar in reassurance and pure fear, a mix I could not get rid of no matter how hard I tried. Each passing moment spent with him made this entire fight scarier, I dreaded losing him, but I could not doubt his skills, and hearing him talk like that made me believe. “That way with words never disappears, does it…” I mumbled jokingly against his chest, the rumble of his laugh sending warmth coursing through my body. “Well, I would not want to lose it if we were to pair up to be great entertainers once this is all over.” He beamed; the idea I had thrown at him the night prior seemed to have stuck in his head. All while caressing my back, Kyojuro continued, slowly lowering us to sit on the parquet outside. “Since we both agree I am good with words, here are a few suggestions of very affectionate names you can call me,” His tone was light and humorous, but I knew he wanted to be called something and not just Kyo like I had found myself in the habit of doing a lot recently.

“My love seems to be obvious enough, dear and dearest are definitely agreeable,” He nodded, pondering for more, I looked up from kneeling between his legs and felt my lips curl into a smile as he continued, “My heart, definitely love that one-“ Seeing my face, his expression was suddenly flustered, and he continued a bit more quickly, “I do not mind if you prefer to call me Kyo! I am simply throwing ideas-“ “Sunshine?” I cut him off, grinning. “Would that be alright? After all, you are like the sun, warm, bright and your smile does brighten my day. I would say it is suitable.”

He turned shy, for a moment I had rendered him mute. The first time I had a very silent Rengoku in front of me was on that beautiful gentle summer night with his gaze locked on mine. The smile on his face was growing silently as he looked at me with an emotion I could not quite decipher, but he got himself together fast and leaned over enthusiastically, making me lean back in surprise, his face was now almost touching mine, “I love it. I love you, I love your idea, say it again!” he breathed a small “please” without ever looking away. Knowing that I had all his attention, I could not help but feel my body heat up, there was no reason to feel embarrassed, but I still suddenly felt awkward. “Sunshine, would you please kiss me?” I said softly, not wanting to wake everyone up. We were outside and seeing where we had walked, I believe we were outside Uzui’s room.

Clasping his hands on my cheeks, he kissed me once, twice, three times, then kissed my forehead, my cheekbones, I had to stop him. “Enough, enough, sunshine-“ “Say it again, louder! It is such a sweet name, I do not believe I will ever get enough of it, say it again.” He pressed in such a cute way, his hands wandering to mine as he helped me stand up while doing it himself. Chuckling, I shook my head and whispered back, “No, we should head back and get some sleep. I would not want to wake everyone up.” I said with another huffed laugh when his expression fell and he pouted innocently, it left his face when Uzui slid his door open and gave us an angry look, “I’m not in the mood to hear you two be cute and shit, go the fuck to sleep.” His speech was slurred, his hair disheveled, he looked different, but he clearly sounded like his usual self, grumpy and scolding.

Laughing, Rengoku nodded and bowed him goodnight before pushing him back inside and closing the door, he did not miss the opportunity to say a bit louder and playfully, teasingly, “What a grumpy old man, no wonder he retired-“ “I will gut you, Ren!” Uzui’s grumble echoed when the door slid open brusquely before we rushed back to our room, stupid giggles muffled in our mouths as we tried to keep in it while running. We held back until we reached the bedroom where we burst out laughing, I had to shush Kyojuro seeing how his face was turning redder from laughter, he fell to his knees still laughing. I knelt in front of him and covered his mouth, still chuckling myself, albeit more discreetly. “Stop, you are impossible— breathe through your nose you foolish man.” I told him with a smile, shaking my head when he wasn’t stopping. I waited for him to calm down to free his mouth and see how out of breath he was from his fit of laughter.

“Feeling impish tonight, are we?” I asked when he had calmed down and was now sitting properly in front of me. With a beautiful, childish smile, he nodded, “He interrupted our moment, I do believe some payback was due.” He said jokingly before leading us to the futons we had placed next to one another to have enough space for the two of us. “Well, I could have done without running more after such a long day, you are lucky you have a pretty face. It must have saved you from a lot of trouble during your childhood.” I said lightly. Bringing my pillow next to Rengoku’s, I settled comfortably; for a moment I hesitated laying my hand on his stomach to cuddle up to him, he grabbed my hand and placed it on him wordlessly and replied, “If you like my pretty face, you should see Senjurou’s! He is the cutest little brother—he would like to become a swordsman!” “Like his big brother? It is understandable, you must be quite the role model.”

There was a short pause, “He likes to help people, and I suppose all he has known is my father and I being swordsmen… However, I believe he would make a great healer, I wish he could see things my way.” Humming pensively, I pondered his words, perhaps just as he was. Senjurou probably wanted to take down demons, that’s all he has heard his entire life so I said, “If we take down Muzan, there will be no need for him to learn swordsmanship.” The hand resting on my waist gripped it even tighter when Rengoku turned his face to look at me from an odd angle, I could see his smile even like that. “You are right!” he muttered it again, then added, “We will change things, no matter what.” He said, determined. I held back my darker thoughts, not liking the words he had spoken. I knew him, his will and his determination knew no bounds, I was aware he was ready to sacrifice his life if it meant winning, and that is the exact reason why I did not want to think about it.

If the opportunity to sacrifice himself does not show, he will not die… I will make sure of that.

We talked more about Senjurou afterwards, falling asleep quite fast.

After that first day, a routine had settled. In the morning we would wake up at ungodly hours and have a peaceful breakfast—or as peaceful as it can be with the older Shinazugawa brother yelling at his pupils. Once we were done, we would go to the open court and see some of our recruits going to train with a different Pillar once they had reached the goal set for them. It was nice to be busy the entire day, it cleared the mind somehow by filling it with tasks easy to manage. Breaks were given during training, it allowed me to spend some relaxing time with Kyojuro. It would not always be quiet, recruits would sometimes come in and ask questions, forcing us to be more discreet in our display of affection to not make them feel awkward. A few times I was the one called away from training, by the Pillars that were already here at the mansion to try to have me awaken the mark, each time was in vain.

The time I had been told that someone had come to visit and I had to bring her to Master Ubuyashiki was the first time I had seen her and got caught off guard when I understood she was a demon. I had to walk with her alone through the forest to reach the estate in which the Master was resting. He had decided to lay far away from us, to keep the worry away. My guard was back up quite quickly, but I greeted her nonetheless and brought her to the room of the young Master. I had never seen the state he was in until now, it broke my heart to see him so incapacitated; his condition had worsened, and I knew from my gut’s feeling that he would not last long. Both the demon woman—I later learned her name was Tamayo—and I were conveyed to come nearer. Following the Master’s orders, we shuffled closer and sat by his side. He had said my name first, taking my hand in his and smiling kindly. I could not see his eyes because they were bandaged, but I knew how kind his eyes were, how gentle the young man was, and I felt it in how warm his hands were.

“I can feel your uncertainty my child, your aura is disturbed. So is your heart?” It felt like a déjà-vu to hear someone mention my troubled aura. The man depended on more than his eyesight to read people, just like Gyomei did, but I was always amazed at how good he was at it. Glancing at Tamayo, I felt a bit shy having this conversation with Master Ubuyashiki with her there, but I hummed, “Do not trouble yourself, I am more than focused on training and fighting, I will not falter on the battlefield.” I stated, determined. His delicate laugh echoed, it slowly turned into a cough; Nichika, who had been by his side the entire time, helped him sit up and handed him a handkerchief. Drinking some water after his coughing fit seemed to have helped a bit, at least enough for him to smile kindly and say, “Reliable as always. Perhaps you should be focused on getting your mind off things? I am certain someone would be more than willing to help distract you…” He trailed off playfully.

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I gave him a look of surprise, knowing full well he was being mischievous on purpose. My delayed response made him smile. “Young Master, I am sure you have more important things to do than worry about my... romantic affairs." I replied diplomatically, still at loss as to why he would mention Rengoku. The blind man chuckled once more, “I have important matters to attend to, indeed, however I care about the wellbeing of all my children.” He explained, ever so caring. I took a moment to ponder, perhaps too long since he added on a humorous note that had an underlying serious tone, “Would you indulge in a dying man's curiosity?” Gasping silently, I felt a knot form in my throat and held back from saying “You are not dying” out of despair. He was, we had been told since the very beginning he would not live long, but being reminded of it truly stomped my mood for a short moment.

“Hopefully I’ll satisfy your curiosity enough to bring you back.” I said playfully, albeit sadly too. He would not want us to treat him differently, and he was very close to us in age after all; I was allowed to be slightly playful. With that, I proceeded to tell him about everything. Tamayo even partook in the conversation; I was surprised to see how kind she was and how knowledgeable too. Calling the both of us together was odd, but seeing how the Master and Tamayo got along I suppose he needed some company. At first that was what I thought, yes, until he dismissed me once we were done, and his expression turned more stern when he looked back at Tamayo. She was the important matter he had to attend to, she had an important part to play in this fight and he had to make sure she was ready.

After that meeting, I returned to my lover and tried to distract my darkening mind. I had a hard time getting rid of the negative thoughts that plagued it, but being with him helped; it was easier to forget about everything when he started gushing about Tanjirou’s prowess in training, he was passing all the tests at an incredible speed which amazed more than one.

That was added to the routine, I could never emphasize enough how much I needed those relaxing moments in the evening when we would talk absent-mindedly about everything and anything as if everything was normal. As if an inevitable death was not coming, as if we were sure we had a tomorrow after the final fight.

Days went by fast; the routine was only broken a few times. One time when one of the swordsmiths had made its way to the estate with a well-wrapped sword in hand, I rushed to their side and knew from the determined steps and the mask who it was. “Hotaru, to what do we owe the pleasure of-“ “What else but a sword? I can’t believe how easy it is for all of you to ruin the beautiful swords we make. Do you not realize the amount of time put into making those beauties!?” He grumbled, as usual. Ignoring his complaints, I offered to bring the sword to the one who needed it, but he pulled back and said he would do it himself, adding “There is no way your brute hands are touching this masterpiece, get me the Fire Pillar, he’s the birdbrain who broke his sword.” Tilting my head to the side, I tried to recollect when it could have happened and felt very defensive suddenly. “I do believe that birdbrain took the most damage when your village got attacked, did he not?” I stood tall in front of the strong man, knowing full well he could take me down too, but I did not budge.

“Are you a guard dog or something? Just get me the Fire Pillar—you know what, I’ll get him myself.” He pushed me aside to try and find Rengoku himself; instead, both of us bumped into the man in question when I tried to grab him to stop him from walking away. An annoyed sound escaped Hotaru, he was very close to throwing a fit when he saw the man in front of him, his posture straightening as he bowed and handed the sword with his arms extended in front of him. “Do not break it this time.” He simply said. Kyojuro met that remark with laughter, he was careful in removing the cloth and grabbing it before skillfully twirling it around once he had stepped back. “It is so much lighter! Thank you so much-“ “Don’t be sweet, look at the hilt, you better thank me for that.” Doing as he was told, Rengoku paid attention to the hilt that I now noticed had changed. It was still a vibrant color, but it was a different shape.

Hotaru handed the old hilt to Rengoku, “I kept it since you seem like the sentimental type-“ the grumpy man was interrupted by the lion-like man’s tight hug after he had sheathed his sword away. The entire interaction was painful to see, the swordsmith had to push away from Rengoku’s tight hug with brute force; even if I could not see his face, I felt like he did not mind, if he had he would have beaten the blond up. “Do you know how hard it was to make that hilt?”

I interrupted, “A poppy? It seems simple enough.” “Oh, it’s not hard, but when the wounded, half-asleep idiot,” He smacked Rengoku on the top of the head, making the younger man wince, “...who requested it only described it as the red one, the flower at the top of the hill, well, it makes the entire process harder.” Upon hearing his words, I met Kyojuro’s gaze and felt my cheeks heat up, but I held back from speaking. Hotaru did not. His eyes jumped from my lover to me, at least that is what I think they were doing since all I could see was his face going from the Fire Pillar to me, “I’ll be taking my leave,” he said awkwardly, all the anger having left his voice suddenly. He grabbed Ren by the collar and brought him close to whisper something I could not hear before bowing and bidding us farewell.

Once he was gone, I joined Rengoku’s side and asked, “Why did you choose a poppy?” I had a feeling I knew why, yet I could not bring myself to assume it was about me. “Why do you think, songbird?” a stupid smile made its way to my lips, I knew it, but I could not stop it. Nor could I stop myself from touching the hilt of the sword, taking a good look at it instead of looking at Kyojuro. “It is the flower you gave me at the fireworks-“ “The first flower, I plan on giving you many more! But you are very correct.” He said happily, tilting my head up to look at him before kissing me softly. I kissed him back longingly then broke the kiss, my hands having slipped to his shoulders without me realizing it. “It is a coincidence too, but the meaning of poppies is dreams, luxury, and other things too. But the most important thing is!” He grinned and leaned over, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, “That you are a dream come true and definitely all I can dream of.”

He pecked my cheek gently, looking at me with the proudest expression that had ever crossed his face. “Smugness is a fine look on you, I have yet to decide if it was smooth or corny.” I smirked, bumping his shoulder with mine to signal we should return to the recruits who had not stopped working. Looking at Rengoku who was now walking behind me, I thought all the sweet things he would do or say made me swoon without exception. It was all those small things that made me want to have all of him. I held back of course, as hard as it was, but it was good practice to act more… civilized, instead of displaying affection openly in front of everyone.

Time went on as usual afterwards, the trainees were improving greatly. Not all of them had the same pace, some were slower and others, like Tanjirou and Inosuke, surprised all of us with the speed at which they were improving. I found some resemblance between Genya’s and Tanjirou’s mindset, not exactly the same but something similar at least. I had not talked enough with Inosuke to understand what his motive was, but I knew both Genya and Tanjirou wanted to protect the one they loved. The birthmark boy was determined to find a cure for his sister, while Genya was dead set on proving Sanemi he was worthy. It always pained me to see how Sanemi treated his brother, even after the many attempts the latter did to show he was not useless.

As if I had manifested it, while walking back to the room I shared with Rengoku, I was thrown on the ground when a body hit mine. I let out a grunt, but did not have time to complain before the body moved from my form, and I was able to move the door that had been kicked from its position and had landed on the ground. The soft voice of Tanjirou then echoed, “Stop this!” What is going on? I thought as I observed without interrupting, stepping back to let them talk. Listening more, it seemed like Sanemi was using brute force once again to make Genya understand he should leave the corps. There was no need for me to interrupt, seeing how Tanjirou was defending Genya beautifully, but while his words were deep and meaningful, Sanemi did not do emotional.

He did violence. It’s all he knew. And it showed when the brunette’s words reached him enough to annoy him, his usual frown was deepened into a scowl. Only seconds after, he was grabbing him by the throat and lifting him from the ground. “I’ll incapacitate you first, if not him.” He gritted through his teeth; I saw Zenitsu grab Genya’s hand before running away with him while the recruits around stared in shock. I was the first one to stand up, they followed my motion and jumped on him to stop him from attacking Tanjirou; there was nothing much he could do against all the recruits, so he let go of the brunette. Once the latter was out of sight, I ordered all the trainees to leave and was left with a seething Sanemi. Without wasting much time, I dropped my haori and tied my sleeves out of the way. “You utter moron, when will you learn that it is not the proper way to express your affection to your brother?” I spat.

He scoffed, pulling out his sword—I did the same; it was different than the training in the dojo because this time he was filled with ire. “What affection? I don’t have a brother.” “Then why do you care if he is in the corps?” I asked, frowning. He ran at me with full speed and as usual, a dance ensued. Dodging, slashing, dodging, kicking, those were the steps, the tempo was set erratically by his thoughtless actions, completely letting the frustration lead. “You’re always so fucking nosy, let me deal with my shit.” He grunted; I had a hard time believing his constant nonchalance. If I took a good look at him, I could see the worry painted in his eyes, how he hated the choices his brother made, how he wished he could do something. But being unable to do anything made him react in the most idiotic ways.

“It stops being your shit the moment you start harming the people you’re supposed to train, understood?” I said sternly. His gaze turned into a mocking one as he slashed my way again, “I don’t see how that’s your problem, you’re not a Pillar, you’re not that great at fighting, you’re nothing, you have nothing to do-“ “Oh, I did not know we were going down the petty road.” I stated before blocking his hit, I tried to grip his hand and open it to make him drop his sword, but he held tight and scoffed. I continued, “You are being so reckless and immature. It is surprising, even coming from you.” His words echoed in the back of my head, but I fought them by wording more positive thoughts out loud, with a scoff, “I thought it above you to use your status as a show of power, do you not realize I am still standing even after all your attacks?” Those were the wrong words to speak. His stance changed drastically, I quickly understood he was serious now and not just letting the steam out.

There was no helping the nervous giggle that escaped my lips. He was not thinking at all, he was blinded by rage he had built up on his own, he was running at me like a fool, clearly not caring if he got hit by my sword. The best thing I could do was twirl my sword around so that the hilt would hit him instead of the blade. Only seconds after, upon impact I was thrown to the ground. The tip of his sword was grazing my throat, I did not dare breathe. “Shut your fucking mouth, fuck you’re annoying, can’t you keep your head down and-“ “Sanemi, my friend, it’s enough.” The grey-haired man did not glance at the voice that was heard, I did not dare look either in fear he would act during that split second and kill me or perhaps because I just wanted to keep an eye on him.

“Drop the sword, my friend.” Rengoku’s gentle yet stern voice reached my ears again, I knew he would not let me get hurt but I also wanted to yell at him for trying to talk sense into the fool that had a blade at my throat. Sanemi’s response was to grin wider, I did not have time to see that smile widen into a manic laugh that he was kicked off of me. I was fast to sit up and crawl backwards to the veranda to let them fight. The Wind Pillar stood up fast, his expression thrilled, “Rengoku, get the fuck out of my way. Your diplomatic fuck needs to learn when to-“ he was cut off by the Fire Pillar punching him in the face and bringing him down by hooking his foot around the angry man’s ankle. “Watch your mouth, the girls are watching!” His tone was light, but his expression, from what I could see on the side, was dead serious. I saw from the corner of my eyes Kiyo, Naho and Sumi peeking from behind the wall, ever so worried. Returning my eyes to the men in front of me, I scooted to stand in front of the girls in case they decided to continue fighting.

The ginger gripped the wild man’s collar and lifted him from the ground, his smile disappearing slowly as he leaned in, “You made two mistakes, the first one was attacking your brother, your blood, the boy who is trying so hard to be worthy for you. What kind of role model are you? Do you not realize the luck you have to have him by your side? Fix this, or you will regret it.” He spoke from experience, not that he had a bad relationship with his brother, but he missed him, and I knew he was working hard to be the best role model for Senjurou. Rengoku was a man keen on bonds, on keeping good relationships with people and never in his life would he let things get this bad with his brother. I could read it in his eyes how angry he was at Sanemi for acting like this. Sanemi kept his mouth shut, which was a step forward to calming him down since he was now listening, “The second was fighting dishonorably.” He spat before letting go of Sanemi's collar and gesturing for him to follow, “Let’s finish this somewhere else. Only then will you return to your recruits.” It was not a suggestion.

Watching them leave, I did not say anything. I started thinking of how to thank him for having my back, but as I thought so, Rengoku called my name, getting my attention, “Do not forget our recruits! Get up and go train them, I will join you shortly, my love.” He winked with his usual grin, my face suddenly felt hot at the name he had used in front of so many people, it made him laugh. While the girls patted my shoulders, telling me to get up, I saw Rengoku hit the back of Sanemi’s head while they walked towards the forest. How quick were they to get friendly again? I suppose Ren had that effect on people, he was calming to be around and forgiving too, it was hard to feel bad around him.

That fight was quickly forgotten, everyone had other things to think about. Most of the recruits thought it was usual for the Wind Pillar to be mad like that and were not even disturbed. Only the other Pillars and Tanjirou’s little clique knew what had truly happened and that Sanemi and Genya were in fact brothers. It was not an information everyone needed to know, hence it was kept for very few people to know.

The countdown until the fight with Muzan was going; in the blink of an eye, we had reached the day before the fight. It was not a day of festivities, we had all agreed on winning and only then would we be celebrating. We were fully aware that we would not all be there by the end of it, but none of us would mention it. It was an unspoken fact, one that wandered about, weighing the air we breathed, making everything more glum. No matter how hard we tried, we were aware of it, even if it was just in the back of our minds while we waited for the time to leave the estate and head to the territory before sundown.

It was hard not to think about it, people were playing games, others had gone to sleep the day away. I found myself walking about the estate in the late afternoon, not knowing what to do and overheard a discussion I knew I should not have heard. Perhaps getting caught off guard at the mention of Shinobu killing herself was what made me let my stealth down. My name was called by the delicate, strained voice of Kocho telling me to come in. I had to take a moment to calm down and slithered inside, my mouth shut tight when I felt a wave of sadness rush over my body. She proceeded to explain the strategy she had in mind to kill the demon that had killed Kanae, her sister. I paid attention, trying to find a fault in her strategy, trying to find anything to convince her to change her mind but it made sense. She knew what she was doing, she was determined, I hated it, I felt heavy in my chest. She taught me a lot, she was not my closest friend but we were close enough for me to feel this pain.

At the end of her explanation, she smiled at Kanao and dismissed her. I was about to follow when she told me to stay seated. We then waited for the younger girl to leave. Once we were sure she was away, I breathed out, “Is this a goodbye, Shinobu?”

She hummed. I looked up from my lap and saw her strained smile, her determination was unwavering, she knew what she had to do but I saw her hands clenched on her lap. “There is no way to change your mind, is there?” She shook her head, her smile still present, her eyes closed with wrinkles at the corners from how hard she was forcing that smile on her face. “There is no need to act tough with me, you have seen me cry many times. I believe it is fitting to cry on your last day alive, don’t you think?” Those were the words that made her crumble. In an instant, I was in front of her and was holding her tight as she mumbled it was the right thing to do but it is hard to let down Kanao, to leave her alone in this world. “Alone? There is no way I am dying out there, I will keep an eye on her. And you are not letting her down, you are doing what is most honorable, she will battle by your side resolutely.” Shinobu was not one to cry, she did not stay in my arms long. As she pulled away, she smiled to herself sadly, “I wish to be the only one who dies out there.”

I could not promise that, we were going to lose many people, I knew that, she knew that, we all knew that. “But it will not be that easy,” she continued, lifting her head to look at me with a sincere gaze, “I will welcome those who will fall during battle, no one will be alone. You must stay alive and keep living, no matter what.” It sounded like she was repeating herself, but I knew what she meant. Do not let the darkness take over, do not lose your mind over the losses this battle will bring. “That is quite a huge favor, I am not sure-“ “You will, you have to. You are the one who has the most to look forward to once this is over.” There was no need to remind me of that, if I had things to look forward to, it meant I had things to lose and that scared me. So, I tried to distract myself and chuckled, “Do you wish to hear a funeral speech? I am not very familiar with living funerals, but I can try if you wish.” That made her laugh; thus, I spent the following hour with her. Making jokes, bantering and remembering the good times. It did not make the goodbye any easier but it was nice.

At around 4 in the afternoon, the sun was still high in the sky, so we still had a few hours or so in front of us before the plan Master Ubuyashiki had set would take place. For those remaining hours, I had called Rengoku to our chambers and decided to spend as much time with him as possible.

Upon entering our chambers, Rengoku undid his kimono and started stripping without much care, “Do you believe we should dress for the occasion? A battle like this calls for-“ “It is a simple battle, a battle we will win. Nothing has to be different; it is but a bigger demon.” I stated, looking away from his naked form. Did I believe the words I had spoken? Barely, but I needed to hear them, even if it was last minute, I needed to convince myself it was going to be alright. “You are very right; I see you are already dressed in your slayer attire.” He noticed, his voice soft and carefree. It probably was an act, but I enjoyed it, I needed it. As I looked down at my black outfit, I felt a whiplash at the realization of how close we were getting to that fight we had been preparing for so long.

Ignoring my thoughts for the umpteenth time, I gestured for Rengoku to follow me as I moved to the cabinet and grabbed a comb and a ribbon. He understood and sat in front of me, ready for me to take care of him. I did so in silence rather quickly, his hair was a lot less tangled than usual, as if he had taken the habit to brush it. It made me smile for a short moment as I threaded my fingers through his hair. Once I was done, I threw his braid over his shoulder and as if on cue, “With that, I’m sure to win! Nothing will get in my way.” He said enthusiastically as he stood up before saying, “I am quite glad it is the last time we are wearing this attire.” He pinched his shirt to emphasize when we stood up, but I interrupted him and glared at him, not thinking twice before saying, “Do not say that! We will win!” A lie, I did not believe those words, why was I getting that desperate? Why only now?

Rengoku’s eyes widened as he finished buttoning up his shirt; he then walked up to me and cradled my face to smoosh my cheeks and stare at me for a long time. “I meant that once we have defeated Muzan, there will be no need for the corps. We will retire, in a beautiful house near a big field.” He said, never letting go of my face.

I stared back, feeling stupid for my outburst. He was right, but deep down I knew that no matter the outcome, it was the last time we would wear this uniform. Kyojuro must have read my mind, or read my expression, my gaze getting lost in his from overthinking the situation. “Please, stop overthinking.” “I can’t do that. My mind is riddled with anxiety, I am conflicted between blindly trusting our skills or getting used to the idea we are all going to die.” I said, tears pricking the corner of my eyes. Rengoku’s brows knitted together in sadness at seeing me like this. I moved his hands away from mine to wipe the tears to calm down, thinking he should not have to carry the weight of my gloominess out on the battlefield. But I could not help the words from flooding out of my mouth, “I am so afraid of losing you, there is so much more I wish we had done, I regret not-“ “Stop right there,” He pulled me close to him and held me so tight I thought I would break. His head was resting on my shoulder as he hugged me in a bone-crushing embrace. “There is no regret; all that has happened, happened the moment it should have.”

Still holding me tight, he said, “Perhaps fate has other plans for us, perhaps it will try to separate us, but I love challenges, and if I have to defy fate to be with you, I will do it.” I laughed at that, knowing it was impossible, but this man was known for doing the impossible. He was himself impossible, untamable in the best way, the freest mind I had ever encountered. If there was one person who could go against fate and win, it would be him. “I would like to say the same, but at best I will defy Muzan himself, fate seems a bit too hard to beat but-“ “Easy enough for me! I am very skilled,” He said happily, his hands moving to mine as he pulled me with him, our arms extended lazily in front of us as he dragged me around the room all while talking, “I once caught a fish with my bare hands—well it jumped right back in the river, but I caught it!” He said cutely, almost tripping onto the futon behind him, I quickly pulled him towards me and held him close as I looked at him fondly.

“Skilled? Your balance is lacking, perhaps you should have taken dancing lessons.” I said playfully, one of my hands moving to his shoulder while one of his slid to my waist, bringing my hips closer. “My mother taught me how to dance, she was the most delicate when dancing with beautiful flowery dresses,” He smiled genuinely before kissing me and whispering, “Sing me a song, I will show you.” Lost in his glimmering eyes, I simply looked at him in awe, enjoying the warmth of his hands on my body. After a few moments had passed, he reiterated with a chuckle, that’s when I asked, “A song—yes. Which one? I know so many, maybe-“ “The one you were singing when I woke up the first time.”

Taken aback, I gulped and nodded, taking a few seconds to compose myself before starting. It was not made to be a concert, no, it was loud enough for both of us to enjoy and bathe in the serenity it brought us. As I sang, he brought my head to his chest and hummed along, a few notes were off but it made my heart burst with love to know how much he remembered it. I could hear his heartbeat and I hated myself for thinking it could be the last time I did so. Must it be so hard to brandish a sword and defend the ones you love? Must the price of failure be their death? How did we end up here, risking our lives for something none of us had asked for? For a moment, I wished we had been in a reality where we were entertainers, something we were anything but.

Tears started rolling down my cheeks, my words had come to a stop for I was now simply humming and so was Kyojuro. His head was resting against mine and we were slowly waltzing across the tatami, enjoying the moment, perhaps our last together. His embrace was like home, a home I did not wish to leave, it was welcoming and reassuring, a place I wanted to protect and go back to when this was over. It made my heart twist in the most horrible way at the thought of not being able to, of being alone without him by my side, of not hiring a painter to follow us on our adventure, of not having a dog with a silly name. “I am in love with you, please do not die, sunshine.” I sobbed against his chest, his arms tightening around my shoulders as he reassured me.

His answer did not stop the tears and was carved in my mind even hours later, after the explosion of the mansion in which Muzan was, after the Pillars had run there to help, after we had split in teams to all go to our assigned area. The words flashed vividly in my mind as I set foot on the battlefield, shambles surrounding us,

“Let’s live on, let’s do our best to live on, no matter how lonely it gets.”

[Part 9]

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

Text

Under the Stars - Legolas

While traversing Middle Earth, on a quest to deliver the One Ring to Mount Doom, you and the Fellowship try to move stealthily. Some are better at sneaking around than others. For instance, you seem to struggle in masking your feelings for a certain Elf. The rest of the Fellowship can so easily see the affection you hold for Legolas while you believe you’re being quite slick. Turns out, you’re the only one that was fooled.

AN: This is purely a selfish writing endeavor. I’ve been stressed and watching the LOTR and Hobbit movies to relax...I forgot how much I love Elves….Human!Reader X Legolas...

“I’m sick of smelling of grass and grime!” Merry announced. As he spoke, he dropped his cloak on a patch of nearby dirt beside the fire Boromir had begun to build. Silently, you hoped for Aragorn and Legolas to return with supper soon. Once the Hobbits’ stomachs were full, they would quiet.

Legolas had described them as ‘children’ to you one evening: once fed, quick to bed. It had been one of those first nights, back when you were too nervous, too giddy, to sleep. You would stay up with Legolas as he took watch. Despite what Gimli had told you about Elves, you found Legolas to be good company during those restless nights, a great comfort even. He would tell you stories from the centuries he had lived through and you would listen, hang off every word. When you finally did fall asleep, rare as it was those first days, it was because you felt safe with Legolas by your side.

If you dwelled too long on the memory, your face would warm with longing. How simple it had been before your heart began to complicate matters. Luckily, the Hobbits, hungry and noisy as ever, pulled you from your thoughts.

“We’re all sick,” Sam sighed as he took a seat next to haggard Frodo. “But we’ll be back at the Shire soon. Drinking and eating Rosie’s lovely supper roast.”

Boromir scoffed and shook his head at the Hobbit’s squabbling. “We have many more weeks of travel yet. Do not kid yourselves.”

Pippin frowned and plopped down beside a freshly disappointed Merry. This was the first time any of them had been away from the Shire, from their home; especially for so long. Due to that new homesickness, Boromir’s true words hit hard for the Hobbits. You gave them a sad smile before looking to Boromir. You bumped your shoulder against his to get his attention.

“Take it easy on them,” you said softly. “They’re not like us, not ready to leave home to save it at a moments notice.”

“They’re not fighters, you mean,” he countered as he struck the flint and steel. Sparks shot out from the metal and stone. After another strike, small flames began to burn. With a sigh, Boromir set his tools aside and sat back.

“You could change that, you know.” Boromir stole a glance at you, an eyebrow raised at your words. “You could teach them to fight, to defend. It would make things easier.”

“Easier?”

There was an edge to the man’s voice that caught you off guard. It was the same tone his father had used with you and Faramir when the pair of you tried to get Boromir to ditch his ‘steward prince’ duties as children. You cringed that familiar cruelty. Boromir was annoyed and you, already tired from the days travels, were not equipped to handle his irritability. You started to stand, brushing the dirt off of your trousers.

“Easier?!”

“It was just a suggestion, Boromir,” you explained, already starting to turn your back to the man. As you started to take steps into the forest, to find Aragorn and Legolas, Boromir let out a hearty laugh.

“It would be easier if you did not fawn over our dear Elf companion as well, but you seem to be falling just the same.”

You stopped dead in your tracks and felt your skin, every inch of it, warm with embarrassment. Slowly, you turned to meet Boromir’s bright eyes and knowing smirk. His expression resembled his younger self, the boy that affectionately tease you as you trained with Faramir. Growing up in Gondor with Boromir had toughened your hide to his ribbing; but this struck a chord. This was not the good-natured jokes you were used to.

Despite the truth in his teasing, Boromir’s tone was changed, twisted into something kissed by darkness.

“I know nothing of which you speak,” you replied through slightly gritted teeth. You had gone so long without anyone seemingly noting your admiration of Legolas that you were clambering for a defense.

“Oh deary me,” Gimli, groaned. You looked over at the Dwarf and saw his saddened eyes. Behind him, the Hobbits watched, wide-eyed, as you seemed to seethe.

“Everyone here sees it,” Boromir continued, “except for possibly the Elf and yourself. Blind to your own feelings and you talk of making things easier.”

Your heart leapt in your chest. For a moment, your thoughts are clouded by Legolas.

His blonde hair, flicking with the wind as you walked towards destiny, towards Mount Doom. Those first nights spent chatting about adventure. His eyes, soft as he explained to you the significance of his braids and recounted the sternness of his kingly father. For the past few days, when he wasn’t scouting ahead, he was walking by your side, letting his hand brush ever-so slightly. In those moments, you tried your hardest to keep calm, stay steady while Legolas seemed wholly unfazed by the incidental touches.

If anything it was the Elven prince who was blind, oblivious to how his mere presence was driving you mad with want. No, Boromir was wrong. You were not blind to your feelings, you were just ignoring them. Or, at least, trying to ignore them. After all, how could an Elf like Legolas, beautiful and immortal, want you?

“You are mistaken, Boromir,” you snap coldly. “I have no...inclination towards the Elf. Perhaps it is you, who is blind.”

Boromir shook his head and sighed. “You are grasping at thin air, Y/N. Even from the low spots at which they stand, the Hobbits can see your fonding eyes towards the archer.”

“Hey!” Merry stood in a flash, “we see lots of things.”

“So you agree with him?” You asked, turning to the four halflings perched beside the fire. Frodo was stunned in silence, as was Sam who had even stopped nibbling at his lembas. You imagined such human drama rarely reared its head in the Shire. Merry and Pippin, however, used to causing chaos, nodded.

“I mean, it’s the truth. Is it not?” Pippin asked, a hopeful half-smile on his lips. Despite his kind expression, you felt a bolt of hot anger in your heart.

“Not!”

“Aye, the man is right,” Gimli stood before you. Stout and strong, he looked up at you with true Dwarven candor. “Everybody sees how you look at ‘im. I don’t begin to understand it, the pointy ears and all, but-”

“Neither do I.”

The words left your lips edged with a saddening truth you were not expecting. You didn’t understand how you could fall for someone so hard, so swiftly. Let alone someone who was an Elf, an entire world away from yours. The thought brought stinging tears to your eyes. To hide them, you turned your back to the camp and started to walk into the surrounding forest.

As you left, you heard Frodo finally speak up.

“It feels that we have just begun and we are already crumbling.”

For a moment, you’re tempted to stay. Whatever feelings you had for Legolas, they were not worth tarnishing the Fellowship. But the thought of facing Boromir, the others, after they so plainly set your heart’s affection on display made you feel ill. So, you kept walking.

You walked until you found a clearing lined with grand, old trees. They towered but their branches did not dare to obscure the stars that shone down. Moonlight gleamed along the green blades of grass in the center of the clearing. The glow was soft, inviting, and you felt drawn to it.

When you moved to stand in the light, you found yourself looking up. Away from the fire light and pyres of Minas Tirith, the stars shone with abandon. Never before had you seen anything as breathtaking. Though, that wasn’t quite true.

You had seen Legolas in the heat of battle: graceful and deadly, slinging arrows with startling accuracy. From the first moment you saw him at the Council of Elrond, you knew there was a fire beneath his skin and you felt honored to see it burn in battle. You had seen his gentleness too as he studied particular flowers along the trail. As you walked with the Fellowship, you would steal sneaky glances at the Elf when he wasn’t at your side.

Apparently, your awe and stolen looks had not gone unnoticed. You winced as you thought back to the camp, to Boromir’s borderline cruelty. He had seemed different ever since you left Rivendell, ever since he learned of the Ring. Could a little band of gold, a promise of power, change a man so quickly?

You pushed the thought from your mind and tried to focus solely on the stars. In the silence, there was a brief peace. Worries slipped away, melted under the light of the Moon. The next day would come and bring fear with it. For this moment, you closed your eyes to better savor the quiet and its strange joy.

“Stars never seem to shine as brightly outside Mirkwood.”

Your eyes opened wide at the sound of Legolas’ voice. When you craned your neck and saw the Elf standing at the edge of the tree line, your breath caught. In the starlight, he looked all the more fair and handsome. His eyes, darker in the limited light, met yours and he dipped his head.

“I did not mean to frighten you,” he raised his open palms and approached you.

“No, you didn’t, I...I wasn’t expecting you.” You tore your attention away from him and looked back to the sky. It took all you had to keep your breathing steady as Legolas moved to stand at your side. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his strong shoulders, his chest, so close. Why must he stand so near?

“You were expecting someone else then?”

“I-I,” you looked back to him and saw that he was looking at the stars. Though your floundering reaction to his question did not go unnoticed. The slightest of smiles played on his pale lips. “No. No one.”

You moved your eyes back to the stars in the hopes of recovering some of your dignity. A sudden fear flooded your senses. Had he returned to camp with Aragorn? What had the others told him? You thought back to Boromir’s attitude and tensed. Before you could ask after anything, Legolas spoke up.

“Tonight, they remind me of home.”

You swallow hard before you dared to look his way. “What do you mean?”

“The stars,” he whispered, turning his gaze to yours. There was a gentleness in his features that made your chest warm. “And the company.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. “I fear I don’t understand.”

“You remind me home,” Legolas replied smoothly. You let out a forced laughed and frowned at him. Elves, by nature, were poetic but did Legolas did not see how his words could have a double meaning? He must see the pain on your face, the desperate hope his words gave you. Everyone else did, apparently.

“How could a human remind an Elf of his woodland home?”

“You are beautiful.” Legolas didn’t miss a beat with his reply.

“Legolas.” When his name fell from your lips, it was heavy and full of warning. Yet, the Elf seemed to care less as he turned his eyes back towards the sky. Silently, you cursed yourself for thinking he meant anything by the compliment.

“When I was younger, my father would bring me to the canopy to study the constellations. He would tell me the stories that accompanied them.”

Frown still firmly planted in your expression, you commented, “that doesn’t sound like the grim man you described to me.”

“He could be bitter, but beneath the asperity there was always love.”

His words stirred up for you an image of Boromir. While you heart still stung from his teasing, you could not forget the childhood you shared with him. The boy you once played with, trained with, alongside his younger brother, was still there. Buried beneath the hardened, stubborn man, but he was there all the same. There was hope for him yet.

“Love endures,” you added softly. The chilled night air gave your breath the form of a small cloud. Instinctively, you pulled at your cloak and fastened it a bit tighter around your shoulders.

“It endures all of Time and wild weather,” Legolas agreed. His eyes found yours once more and, with a look of concern, he leaned close to you. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m not, I…”

You trailed off, unable to think clearly with Legolas so near and looking at you like that. His eyes were kind, framed by the long, fine strands of his blond hair. With his dark brows furrowed together with worry, he looked older despite the Elven gift of eternal youth. How tempted you were to reach out and pull his lips to yours. Your fingers twitched and itched to do so, but you forced your hands to stay still. Bitterly, you imagined that those in the Fellowship would smirk at you if they could see how you were acting.

“Y/N, you sh-”

“Did they tell you?”

Legolas cocked his head to the side like a confused hound. “Tell me what?”

“The Fellowship did they...I am tired of being played for a fool,” you pressed. “I have been parading about as if I have masked my every feeling yet I could be read as plainly as any tome. I refuse to believe you, with your Elven sight, could not see what mere men and Hobbits have.”

At you plea, Legolas’ straightened his posture. While he leaned towards you no longer, his eyes remained soft and as watchful as they ever were. You took in his furrowed brows and slight frown before pressing a hand to your forehead with shame. In an attempt to calm yourself, you hung your heavy head and took a deep breath.

“I, I am sorry, Legolas. I think it’s time I had some rest.”

With your hand hiding a portion of your downturned face, you did not see him move closer to you until you saw the toes of his boots before your own. Still embarrassed because of your outburst, you did not dare to move. Only when you felt slender, warm fingers wrap around your wrist did you allow your hand to fall away. When you lifted your head, you were met with Legolas’ eyes focused solely on you.

“Do not apologize, you are right. They did not tell me; they do not need to. I have seen the feelings of which you speak and I am sorry that I have been so quiet.”

A breath was hard for you to find, but when you did you used it to ask the question balanced on the tip of your tongue. “What do you mean?”

“I mean to say there are many differences between your world and mine. I should have made my feelings more clear.”

Legolas’ grip on your wrist loosened slightly and you thought he was going to let go. Your stomach dropped with the dread of an affection gone unrequited. Then, just as you felt true doom, Legolas joined his hand with yours. Your gaze fell to watch how his fingers entangled with yours. Nervous, you looked back to Legolas and found there was a tender smile playing on his lips.

“At night I do not sleep but with these long evenings, with you slumbering so near, I have wished to. I have lived through many centuries and never once wanted to sleep. Never once did I see a beauty and longed to hold it dear until I met you.”

“Legolas,” you whispered, breathlessly, “I now truly feel like a fool.”

He lifted his free hand, the one not holding yours, to your face. Light as feathers, Legolas’ fingertips traced along your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine that you did not even try to hide. There was no point now. Everything was clear for everyone to see. You did not want to hide from Legolas any longer.

“Perhaps we are both fools,” he said softly. This close to Legolas, even in the dim light of the stars, you could see the depth of blue in his eyes. The itch in your fingers returned as the smell of him flooded your senses: beech bark and pine. Before you could even think of holding back, your hand reached up and pulled his lips to yours.

Legolas was quick to respond. Both his hands moved to cup the sides of your face and he moved his lips eagerly along yours. Your hands gripped his armor, holding him close. Every feeling you had held in poured out into the kiss. Each stolen glance and longing stare finally coming to a head. Still clinging to him desperately, you pulled away from Legolas to catch your breath.

Slightly winded, you rested your forehead against his, sharing the air between you. Relieved of your worries, you felt a surge of bravery overtake you. Laughing lightly, you pulled away to meet Legolas’ gaze.

“I wonder if the Fellowship saw that coming.”

Legolas smiled at your joking, the widest smile you had seen from the Elf since meeting him. With his hands still holding your face, he brought you in for another kiss; less needy than the last but all the more passionate. Warmth surrounded you both but you hungered for more. Just as you were about to pull on Legolas’ armor, you heard someone clear their throat.

Immediately, you and Legolas pulled away from each other. You both looked over to see Aragorn, smiling smugly at the two of you as he walked out from the shadows created by the looming trees. A new sort of embarrassment rushed through you as the Ranger took in the sight of you and the Elf. You could only imagine what you both looked like with lips kiss swollen, chests heaving, and all wild eyed.

“I can not speak for the rest, but I saw this coming.”

You snuck a glance at Legolas and saw his pale cheeks had pinkened. Never before had you seem him flustered and you felt overwhelmed with pride that you had played a part in it. The starlight made the Elf’s features all the more pleasing. You wanted to kiss him again but, before you could reach for Legolas, Aragorn spoke up again.

“Come now, you’ve worried the party with your extended absence. And the Hobbit’s have supper ready.” As he turned to walk back, he added, “there will be time for that when our journey comes to an end.”

You and Legolas start after the promised king. Not before sharing a look that told the other that neither of you would be willing to wait that long. For so long you had both waited, danced in silence around the other. Now, there was no holding back.

#legolas #legolas x reader #legolas imagine #legolas imagines #legolas fanfiction #legolas x you #lotr #lotr imagine #lotr imagines #lotr fanfiction #the hobbit #legolas greenleaf #legolas greenleaf imagine #legolas greenleaf imagines #legolas greenleaf x reader #legolas greenleaf fanfiction

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ezrasarm · 4 years

Text

Surrender

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Summary: Din collects his final bounty without even knowing it.

Warnings: Angst, 10 ply fluff, lack of proofreading

A/N: This is my love letter to @starryeyedstories “All Of Me” because I couldn’t stop imagining what that day he collects his final bounty would look like (Please forgive me, I couldn’t resist). Also, if you haven’t read it yet please do because it’s amazing! It’s about damn time I wrote for Din!

(Gif by @lucy-sky)

“Are you okay?” The mandalorian asked, coming to place his gloved hands on your upper arms after finally managing to get the bounty into carbonite. This job had been a particularly wearing one for both of you, you hadn’t even realized you were shaking until his grip on you attempted to resist your trembling.

“You could have died!” You just about cried, your whole jaw quivering as you reel back from him, your eyes red with the sting of forming tears.

You’d been in enough life threatening situations with him before over the years but this one struck you differently. You were convinced he wasn’t going to make it out of this alive and it terrified you to your very core. You know if he were to say something it would be a cold and detached “That’s the job.” or “This is the way.” You had toughened to these responses over time, you could take them now. You could understand them. But instead he remained steadfast, back rigid and visor trained on you without so much of a head tilt in acknowledgment. You’d never felt so closed out or blind to his emotions as you did in this moment, staring into the frigid barrier of callous, indifferent steel you had come to recognize as his face.

“I know you’re doing this for us- for our future- but there won’t be a future for us if you’re dead!” You gasp out, your voice quaking when you recoil from him as he takes a step closer to you, hand extended but posture still stoic and indecipherable. You couldn’t fall into this again. You couldn’t bottle up your nightmares in the firm grasp of a leather-and-beskar-clad embrace. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know this is your livelihood, your religion, your identity and you know I’d never ask to undermine that. This isn’t an ultimatum...” You trail off for a moment allowing yourself to realize what it was you were trying to say. “But I can’t sit back and watch you kill yourself.” You feel your voice break in your chest as the weight of your words fell over you like an anvil in a cartoon. You’d lost enough loved ones in your lifetime, you couldn’t bare to lose another one. Not him.

“(Y/n),” he spoke softly, his voice enviably even and collected as he took a cautious step towards you only for you to match it by stepping back. You hadn’t realized how unprepared you were for him to reply. You were in no mood to be talked down right now. You couldn’t live with the burden of fearing for his life every waking moment of every day any longer. It was breaking you.

“Din, you can’t change my mind about this.” You croaked. How was he so calm? You could actually feel anger boiling up inside you at how unfazed he seemed to be. As though all the love and affection you’d given him so unconditionally over the years had meant absolutely nothing to him. You’d have handed him your very soul on a platter, you were so pathetically in love with him and here he was without so much as a waver to his voice at the threat of you leaving for good.

You were just about ready to open your mouth again. To argue with him. To shove him. To give him a piece of your mind. Anything that would get him to give you a reaction. A real reaction. But before you could do any of that he was gently reaching up and nonchalantly unfastening his pauldron, dropping it unceremoniously to the ground before going for the other, leaving your mouth hanging open in bewilderment.

“W-what are you doing?” You stammered out as he came to unstrap his chest plate and let it fall with a deafening clang.

In all your years of travelling together you’d never seen this much of him unconcealed by beskar, you’d never laid eyes on even an inch of his skin. It was a dizzying sense of perplexity that confounded in you as your eyes consumed the way the material of his tunic rippled over his muscles and you got to watch how he moved uninhibited by the metal that made him eerily droid-like in his actions for the first time.

It dawned on you now how little had stood between you and him that somehow made you feel like you were a million miles apart all this time. His cuisses and vembrances had now joined the other hunks of the hermetic metal alloy on the Razor Crests floor. You were too dumbfounded to even realize you’d been cautiously retreating from him as he attempted to take slow, careful steps towards you with each piece of shed armour, until your back collided softly with the wall behind you causing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth.

It was now, standing close enough that he towered over you, his gaze unflinching, you could feel your heart beat rattling through you chest as you attempted fruitlessly to put the pieces together, to figure out what was happening. “I- I don’t understa-“ you couldn’t even finish your words before he was dropping to his knees in front of you with a soft thud, his head bowed as he tugged gently at each of the orange fingertips of his glove before sliding it off his hand, exposing the soft, gold-tinged beige of his skin. “Din,” you tried to say in protest but your plea fell on deaf ears as he reached for the other and dropped them both gently at your feet before tilting his visor up to you again.

“(Y/n),” he sighed, his breath heavy as it fell through the fire-like crackle of his modulator. “Cyare,” He said warmly, the monicker striking a new chord as it plucked softly at your heart strings. “I’m done.” He said, making your heart stop as his hands came up to his helmet.

“Din, don’t do this because of what I said-” You tried to argue but he shook his head.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now,” he said quietly, but it carried force. “I’m tired.” He spoke again and this time the crack in his voice wasn’t just from the modulator. “It’s time.” He resolved and it took everything in you to resist clamping your hands down on his and holding his helmet in place.

You weren’t ready to be blamed for forcing him to give everything he knew of himself up. You couldn’t carry the resentment that came with knowing you were the one that stopped him from doing all he’d ever known, that caused him to break his creed. But you didn’t do any of that. Instead, you stood there, tears brimming your eyes as he slowly unveiled himself, stomach churning with anticipation as the light finally illuminated his features enough for you to see.

He looked nothing like you’d imagined and yet exactly as you had all at the same time. His jaw was softer than you had thought and his nose was crooked like it had been broken once or twice before. His skin was adorned with scars old and new and it pained you to think of how many of those he had suffered alone without complaint. His upper lip and chin were littered with light stubble and his lips, with a slight pink hue looked delicate as silk as they quirked upwards ever so slightly at the corners in a bittersweet, awestricken smile that made your breath lodge somewhere in your throat.

But the most cathartic of the experience was finally looking into the eyes of the one you had longed for for so long, their colour a dark, black coffee brown and just as warm. They were pin pricked with tears and so full of emotion. You wondered how even the mask could have shielded it from you. He looked so human, so vulnerable and exposed.

He looked like the man you loved.

You couldn’t even think of words to say as you absorbed every feature you could, memorizing them as though you’d never see them again, you almost jumped when his bare finger tips came to graze yours, scooping your hands into his and rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs on your palms as though he were studying every crease and line.

A pang of grief hit you as you considered how long it had been since he had felt the warmth of real skin on skin contact, something you took for granted with every handshake shared so casually between you and another, he probably couldn’t even remember it. He gently brought your finger tips to his cheeks, letting you graze his cheekbones, his jawline and the ridge of his nose, leaning into the touch of your fingers as they tangled in his wild tufts of chestnut curls and gladly accepting your thumbs as they gently outlined the shape of his lips all the while he traced his hands up and down the length of your forearms in any form of motion that would give him contact with you.

“I’m all yours now, Cyar’ika.” He murmured against your thumbs, relishing in the taste of your skin on his mouth before gently catching your hand and bringing his lips to your inner wrist, his hot breath fanning over your pulse point as he pressed the most gentle of kisses there before he tugged himself up to his feet.

With his face now inches from yours you swore you could see every fleck of gold in his irises even in the dim light of the Crest. “I’m sorry it took so long.” He hummed as his hands absentmindedly tangled in your hair like it was second nature.

You were so overcome with emotion you couldn’t even argue. You couldn’t tell him all that mattered was that you had each other now, or that the wait was what gave it meaning. The most you could manage was a shake of your head and a watery grin as your hands instinctually found the nape of his neck and you brought your lips to his in what you could have sworn was the worlds longest awaited kiss.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@ezraslittleblondestreak @agirllovespasta @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @wickedfrsgrl @hillarymurray4 @din-damn-djarin

#10 ply super soft fluff #din djarin x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #imagine #drabble #the mandalorian #mando x reader #the mandolorian x reader #pedro pascal #star wars #angst #fluff

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spectralscathath · 4 years

Text

Run Boy Run, This World is Not Made For You

Grown men shouldn't beat up kids. Mercury knows that in his bones.

Spoilers for RWBY Volume 8: "Fault". Ao3 link

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hazel had left the room.

Mercury stayed perched in the alcove he'd lodged himself into, the Grimm muscle pulsing around him as he used the flesh and sludge to hide where he could in this place. When fighting and running failed, Mercury fell back on hiding.

He dropped down, boots silent despite their weight as he took quick, quiet steps into the room, just to see what all the fuss was about. Emerald was being boring and horndogging after Cinder with her fucked-up mommy issues, and Mercury knew better than to stay in any public areas in case Tyrian got bored and wanted to play a rousing round of 'pick on Mercury'. Fuck that shit.

He slipped in, the smell of blood and vomit hitting his nose. A luckier man would have flinched. Mercury barely registered it. He studied the tiny form in a fuck-ugly green jacket, the kid's back to him.

That was the kid from Haven. The Ozpin kid.

He noticed the kid was shaking at the same time he heard tiny whimpers, and it rang in his ears with too much familiarity.

a ring with a ram's head insignia, a fist with a missing finger, knuckles gnarled and knobbled like tree bark-

"you think you can talk back to me, boy?"

pain blooming in his eye, something cracking in his cheek-

Mercury shook his head and walked over out of morbid curiosity, prowling around the kid like a hungry dog slank around free food, suspicious of a catch.

The kid was in bad shape. His skin swollen and mottled with an ugly rainbow of bruises, one eye swollen shut and his nose crunched in like some kind of fucked-up bulldog, weeping blood and snot all over his face. His arms and legs were curled tight, gangly childish limbs pulled close to protect the squishy bits of the body, but he wasn't curled so tight into a ball. Mercury clocked the broken ribs from that alone, the way each breath wheezed and hitched extra confirmation.

The kid wasn't crying.

Not for lack of trying, however.

One eye was scrunched shut, tears clumped on the lashes as each attempt at a heaving sob turned into a reedy whistle, unable to get the air in for a real cry, unable to get it out either. Vomit coated the boys front, like he'd been hit in the stomach enough to empty his guts. Probably had, knowing Hazel's hits.

the heavy swing of leather before a metal buckle cracked against his forearm, thrown up in desperation-

a growl. an insult. a vice-like grip on his wrist, grinding the bones together until it hurt, wrenching his arm down out of the way-

skin split on his jaw, down to bloodied bone-

Mercury gritted his teeth, shoving away memories of a boy's voice, high and too young, whimpering and apologising for a broken rule that he didn't know existed until Dad said he'd fucked up. He'd been so fucking weak back then. Pathetic.

Eventually crying had turned to anger, and Mercury had gotten bigger, started yelling back, hitting back. Dad hadn't liked that.

His legs ached even though there was nothing there that could ache.

He dropped down into a crouch, a bloodshot green-gold eye opening as the kid finally registered someone was there, trying to cringe away like a dog that had been kicked, raising his hands weakly in front of his face as a shield. Mercury absently noted that forearms didn't bend that way.

broken fingers dabbing water into open wounds, trying to bandage them up as dad snored downstairs, a bottle in one hand and blood on the other. biting back any sound as he tried to fix himself up so he could do it all over again tomorrow. hide, found, beating, quiet. he just wanted it to end.

shaking hands with wrenched fingers did their best, but scars stayed forever.

"no self-respecting assassin uses just one hand, c'mere you little shit-"

The crooked fingers on Mercury's right hand had never fully aligned themselves, and sometimes he could tell a storm was coming when they started to twinge.

Mercury wondered what the fuck he was gonna do now. He'd sated his curiosity. He'd seen what was going on in here.

What now?

He should leave. Before Salem found out and he ended up a heap of blood and snot like this kid.

He should just go.

"you think crying out for help's gonna do anything, you fucking crybaby?" the rough smell of cheap whiskey made him gag. "ain't no one gonna hear you out here. toughen up and take it like a man."

No one ever helped. He had to kill Dad himself.

The thought of this kid trying to do the same to Hazel punched a laugh out of him, the kid flinching bodily at the sound.

Mercury reached for his belt, pulling out the utility knife he kept on the back, emptying his cargo pockets of the small first aid kit he'd carried everywhere, unwilling to ever part from the one thing that had been key to him making it this long.

Oscar flinched with every sound and movement Mercury made, a streaming hiss escaping between his teeth. Mercury paused for a moment, listening, and the breathy sound turned to familiar words.

"pleasepleasepleasepleasedonthurtmeplease-"

Mercury reached out with calloused fingers and gloved hands, cutting the kid's jacket off him with efficient movements before he began shredding the ugly lump of fabric into usable strips.

He tapped the kid's jaw, carefully keeping it light. "Oi. Eyes open, squirt. Eat this-" he shoved the white tablet at him, garbage painkillers Merc only used whenever the pain that constantly wracked through his body became bad enough that he didn't want to move.

The kid complied, something under the mess of burst blood vessels and swollen skin pulling a face at the taste. Little fucker.

Mercury didn't say anything else, not knowing what to say as he used a formerly-disgusting jacket for makeshift bandages, not bothering to give the kid a count as he wrenched a broken forearm back into place and tied it off.

He dabbed away the blood, snot and tears, until the kid looked slightly more human and less like a butcher's slab. That big puppy dog's eye followed his movements, and the kid stopped flinching back from him.

Mercury finished his work and put everything away, metal joints creaking from being in a crouch for so long.

"... thank you." The kid rasped out, throat hoarse. Mercury didn't have any water to give him. Sucked for the kid.

"Don't thank me." Mercury stood up, dusting his hands free of the mess. The kid would learn. Any time spent healing meant more shit to break the next day. Mercury was just prolonging the rest of the kid's life, probably because he was just as much of a sadist as everyone else in this hellhole. Attack dogs didn't make for healers.

"Try pass out early next time, if you can. Might work." Didn't for Mercury, once dad copped on and started waking him up. But hey, Hazel was stupid, could work on dumb muscle like him.

The kid looked like he was about to say something else, and Mercury walked away before he could.

"getting soft, boy."

No he fucking wasn't.

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

I am Manifesting 'Oscar is the Dionysus to Merc's Hermes and therefore Merc is getting the kid outta there’ ✨ ✨ ✨

#rwby #rwby spoilers #mercury black #oscar pine #rwby volume 8 spoilers #my writings #tw: child abuse #tw: torture #crwby what the fuck is your deal with constantly beating up a 14yo in graphic detail #the public wants to know

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havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong · 3 years

Text

Prelude - Awaiting

The Masters witness the rising of a seemingly unbreakable wall. Surely, with this -- they find themselves prepared for what lay just beyond.

A Saber watches from beyond -- knowing a rebellion is close.

The crown does not so easily fall.

...The cave's lights slowly faded. Within the fires that spread across the ground, the Wicker Man fell -- and the blue Caster smiled. "...Nice work. That's your Noble Phantasm." "...My..?" The Shielder's eyes widened, lowering her shield as the Caster waved in the rest of our group. Kagekiyo proved to be the first there, followed shortly after by Olga Marie -- then, our other Caster, who ran in as best he could. "What was its name?! Mash, did you remember?" Olga naturally wasted not a moment before peppering Mash with questions, the latter taking a step back to get a bit of breathing room so she could even think of a response. "I-I don't know! I don't really have any idea what my Noble Phantasm's name is, but..." "--Then why not give it a name?" The blue Caster cut in, tapping Olga lightly on the head with his staff. Plonk. "If it means the same to you, it'll probably work," he continued, "though probably not as well as it could be." "A name..." The young girl glanced to one side, furrowing her brow in thought. Olga opened her mouth, but was interrupted just as quickly with another plonk. "...Why not... Lord Chaldeas? If I'm going to be protecting Chaldea, then..." "Lord Chaldeas it is." The blue Caster pulled his staff back with a smile, the bottom making impact with the ground beneath. "With what I just saw, we might just stand a chance. If we keep down this tunnel, we should be free to get to Saber. She's been standing there for some time, now -- my bet's that she's still there." Ritsuka gritted their teeth, but only nodded to the Caster. "Mash -- let's go. Stay on guard, too. We don't know what's going to happen." "Right, Senpai." Taking the initiative, Mash moved just in front of Ritsuka -- the latter taking my arm and pulling me beside them, with Kagekiyo following suit. "Cadence, stay behind Mash." "I was already planning on it, rest assured." My answer seemed to be enough to placate the Master, their shoulders relaxing. "...So, we just keep going through this tunnel?" "Yeah. We're too far away for Saber to notice us, so we got lucky with this safe ground. Just keep a gentle step, and we'll be fine." ...After that, a period of silence overwhelmed us, as we followed the blue Caster's lead. One foot in front of the other -- on a path down to this 'Saber.' A being so strong that everyone around her would fear her -- a being that made even someone like Ritsuka doubt themselves in an instant. I'd have wondered, 'what kind of person is this Saber?' -- --but the beam fired down the cave, tearing the Caster to shreds before our eyes, answered the question in a moment. -- 'They're approaching.' A new ally. Allies, to the Caster. 'I thought they'd have died in the mess of Shadow Servants.' Allies do that to you. They keep you alive. The blade in my hands ground itself into the dust-covered dirt beneath me. I spin it carefully with my hand -- to relieve the stress. 'They're smarter than I took them for. No wonder they're a Caster.' And no doubt they'd be looking for me. For the one who helps hold this world together. But when would they arrive -- would they ever arrive?' [Yes.] The voice. The voice resounding in my head. It reads to me of stories I had never yet heard of. It reads to me a kingdom I have never yet heard of. A perfect world, that comes only with the incineration of humanity. Of black stars that hang in the heavens, where the shadows of men's thoughts lengthen in the afternoon. [Eleven o'clock. You will strike true, the most important of them all.] Their voice, like a horrible ringing in my head, yet every word was clear and succinct. 'I understand.' A better kingdom awaited, if I fired this blow. My blade, risen to the stars, and my voice, spilling from my throat. 'Iron hammer of the hollow king. Turnover/Reverse/Overturn/Change the aurora.' A black light, the opposite, sucked it all in. My eyes settled upon the tunnel. 'Swallow the light -- Promised blade of victory, Excalibur Morgan!' -- Could anything have remained from a strike like that?

A shimmering blue wall was arisen, blocking off the remnants of the dark, all-consuming beam that had just previous threatened to devour us all. But the blue Caster -- ... ...Within the fires, the orange-red lights around us, even the remaining bloodstain couldn't be seen at all. All that remained, the wooden staff the man used, was broken -- ashed, charred, turned a sharp black and shattered into four separate pieces. As the blue light faded, I took care to collect these pieces -- ...Rather, my body. Even trying to pull myself back, respecting what remained, my body moved on its own, and picked up the leftover top of the staff. As it were, I were choking. The smoke, the smell of charred corpse and boiling blood as golden light enveloped and dispersed what remained, had me only moments away from falling to my knees and suffocating. There was no romantics to it -- hardly even a last word. The Caster was simply gone -- evaporated. Erased from this tunnel as though he were never there to begin with. I found myself only stopped by a hand upon my shoulder -- turning around, I found the eyes of another Master staring back at me. Panicked footsteps could be heard about me, but not something I could understand, or listen to. Mildly widened eyes, their body shaking -- but the soft smile remaining. "...It'll be okay, Cadence. He's a Servant -- he's not dead." ... ...They pushed me forwards past it. Past the Caster -- what remained. "...Just don't think about it. Keep moving. If we stop for too long, we're going to be dead, too."

'Keep moving.' I found my mind repeating those words -- latching onto them. The blood on the ground-- 'Keep moving.' --The piece of his staff, rattling in my pocket-- 'Keep moving.' ...That was all I could do. Claws wrapped around my throat, and every second I spent not walking was a second they could wrap fully around my throat -- and cause my legs to crumple, and my eyes to shut. 'Keep moving.' Surely, my cheeks were growing damp again. My eyes felt as though they were burning in the heat -- my teeth gritting. "Keep moving." Encouragement, whispered in my ear -- and, suddenly, another hand on my shoulder. ... Even not looking over to see who was there, the grip on my shoulder was firm -- stronger than Ritsuka's previous. Kagekiyo, surely, was there -- even if they would hardly care of my struggle, being a Genji-killer, they still remained. ...One step, in front of the other. One step, in front of the other, until the environment cleared. Before us -- a blonde woman, in a stark black dress. Red streaks laced the blade she held in one hand, and the mask covering her face, her eyes. She spoke not a word, only stepping forward. Raising her blade, yelling something loud yet inconceivable -- but suddenly, slamming her blade down, and being blocked by -- "Genji. Your orders, Master." The woman's blade struggled, caught between the blades of the Avenger -- forcibly pushing upwards, to catch the knight off balance, only to have their next strike blocked by the woman. The chaos, the flurry, was sudden and immediate -- and yet again, I found myself knowing that any order to retreat would be promptly and succinctly ignored. And yet, could we retreat? We had nowhere to return to, not until this woman -- and whatever lay after -- were defeated. We had nowhere to hide, for that beam she fired would reduce us to ashes, like the Caster before us. Behind us was nothing but death. In front of us lay death, with a light of hope behind it. ...The Caster wanted her gone. "...Master." The words of the Avenger broke my train of thought. "Do you want to get revenge on the Genji, Master?" '...And what other choice would I have?' 'What other choice would I have but to fight?' There was something, running through my veins. Placing it was impossible -- it was more, further, than fear. The beast clasped its claws around my neck, pulled down as hard as it could, but there was no longer anywhere to fall. It was either I lay down and die -- or make the Caster's work worth it, short though it was, and fight. ...My ring, settled on my finger, shimmered at once -- draining something of me. The blade the Saber blocked so eloquently, now made them begin to shake -- made their defences begin to fail. "...If this is the Genji, then they won't live through this. Avenger -- fight! Ritsuka, provide backup by any means necessary!" My eyes moved to the Master beside me, who widened their eyes as they looked into mine -- before grinning, and stepping forward, Mash running forward in tow. Behind her, the Caster we had remaining shook off some droplets from his head, and stepped forward -- raising his hands, clapping them together. "Master! I... I can provide backup support, but I'm going to need a moment! Please protect me!" The young boy called out to Ritsuka, who gasped slightly -- but, their gaze toughening, they nodded and glanced to me. "You heard the kid." "Right!" At the scene of the fight, the Saber's defence broke -- the woman jumping backwards to avoid the frantic, crazed slices of Kagekiyo before her. "--Entering combat!" But one wrong step to the right led the Saber directly into the path of Mash, whose shield proved a small bit more difficult to block thanks to its blunt force. The Shielder, giving all of her strength, leapt forward and swiped leftwards with the broad end of her shield, sending the Saber flying backwards; landing on her feet only by miracle, steadying herself with a hand.

Kagekiyo, in turn, leapt to the left, then directly forwards -- with a slash forwards, only blocked barely by the Saber's blade, she used the other to strike at the Saber's good arm. "--?!" Yet, swordplay only proved so useful when the Saber was willing to punch you directly in the face. Sending the Avenger back some distance, Mash ran in only just in time to shield them from a forward slash courtesy of the Saber. Yet, each noticed they were now listening to a chant. "There once was a couple whose child's name meant 'limitless life--'" The Avenger's blade faltered, a moment, but Mash's defence gave her enough time to recover. "Lasting twenty billion years, blessed by the sea, the fish--" "A chant. So this is your plan." The Saber changed courses -- setting eyes on the child, running towards them. Yet, the Avenger blocked their advance with another onslaught, their face stained with a wide and crazed grin. "If we can't beat you fairly, Genji, we will have to improvise. Given your attack on the man before, that's only fair." "And in the waters, or the clouds, or in the wind--" "You may try, fool." Blades clashed, came together, came apart -- one blackened blade, deflecting and clashing against two thin curved blades, the snarls of Avenger and Saber alike clouding the air about as the Shielder positioned herself in front of the Caster. "--with a home where there is food and a place to sleep--" The three clashing blades came apart, the Avenger now beginning to laugh, as the Saber gritted her teeth. The Avenger before her knew full well what would occur if the Saber had any breathing room -- that beam would destroy them all. And yet-- "Iron hammer of the hollow king. Overturn the aurora." ...She would try, anyways. But wasn't that what Kagekiyo could fight best? For Kagekiyo would never die. "...The everyday, now, is simply a dream." "--and the energy of the Yabukouji, with longetivity like King Shuuringan of Paipo--" The temperature spiked -- a buzzing, eternally hearable in my head. As though something were being supplanted for something else -- a backdoor opening in my mind. Yet, too, the light itself began to shake, as Saber rose her blade. "...Yes -- everything in this world, all the Genji reaches, must burn!" "--and longetivity like his wife, Guurindai, and their children Ponpokopii and Ponpokonaa's--" The temperature rises. There's a screaming in my head. There's two suns -- two suns setting behind the lakes-- "After all this time, I finally have my shot!" "SWALLOW THE LIGHT!" "--Long lived fortune!" ...

...Everyone could hear the buzzing in their minds. I knew it from the looks in their eyes -- their halted breaths. All around us froze -- the temperature, threatening to boil us alive, the light itself flickering, being consumed. But the boy remained. "...Do you want to know my name?" ...There's a screaming in my mind -- their minds. 'Listen.' 'Listen.'

'Listen.'

"So be it." The young boy approached the Saber, calmly -- past the fire, the sure temperatures of Kagekiyo's blade, and past the shield of Mash that kept us all safe. "...My name is Jugemu. To be specific..." "Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke." 'Listen.' 'Listen.' 'Speak.' "Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke..?!" The words fell out of Saber's mouth before she could think -- the light suddenly shaking, and faltering, and coming to an end. 'Listen.' My very muscles halted. I could barely even will myself to breathe beyond a quiet, quiet breath. 'His name..? J--' 'Speak.' His name-- Suddenly, I found this urge. This urge deep within me. A spike drilling a hole into my head. I could hear it, burrowing deep into my mind. Like a drill, like a syringe, to extract my brain itself.

'Speak.'

With each repetition of the screaming voice's command, it grew harder to ignore. And the words came tumbling out. "Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke..?! That's your true name..?!" I screamed it without meaning to. I covered my mouth -- I tried to -- but my body no longer responded. "That's who we summoned..?! We summoned Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke..?!" Ritsuka fell, faltered, their words sputtering out as though it were a chant. Their eyes shuddered where they stood, their mouth twitching as though withholding some horrible scream.

'Listen.' The Saber, however, became the first to scream. She fell to her knees - she tried to -- but it was hardly enough. "This... This... This Jugemu-Jugemu Goko-no-Surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakoji-no Burakoji Paipopaipo Paipo-no Shuuringan Shuuringan-no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Chokyuumei-no Chosuke..?! You..! I know you, you..!" The child grinned -- his eyes widening, gaze sharpening, before he broke into laughter. A mist formed around his feet, as he placed a hand to the face of the Avenger. "You..! Avenger, who knows my tale. Finish off this maddened woman." 'Listen.' The Avenger only responded with a grin -- stepping forward, as though their muscles now returned to normal in a moment. "...Yes... After all this time, as I was saying -- I finally have my shot." Their mask cracked, and shattered -- and the 'Kagekiyo' separated. Thousands of them, surrounding the Saber. Perhaps the Saber had already broken, her mind already endlessly repeating the name of the Caster. Perhaps there was a tiny, tiny bit of sanity that remained in the dead eyes, the kneeling physique, of the Saber whose body broke -- and whose mind seemed destroyed. But, unable to speak -- all she could now do was listen.

"Shogyomujo -- Joshahissui!"

And in that moment-- --a technique most indescribable, a Servant whose powers were impossible to understand-- --nothing could have prepared the Saber to survive the strike that followed the madness.

#fgo #mastersona #gudasona #l o r e #cadenceloreposting #tw death

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