#this is fast by my standards bc i did it in one night and was trying to do it quickly haha

[manasurge]

A quick drawing of my attempt at @commanderthalys's Thalys with her Iboga face leaves and an overabundance of thorns and spikes and teeth bc I have no chill lmao (they're also WAY larger than what they should be to properly hide while folded up on her face, but I am not good at resisting the temptation of exaggerating these things lakjdsfls)

[latinasforace]

Crimson Petals in the Night ( Giyuu x Blood Hashira F! Reader)

a/n: So sorry this took forever to post ….. College started for me & it’s draining me…. work as well even more. I’ll update soon!! thank you!! BTW this story will be SLOWBURN so that’s why it’s slow progress bc i’m building story and such. But DW i’ll make progress very fast bc who doesn’t just wanna make out w giyuu 😫

warnings: drunks flirting with you…

w/c: 15.8k

Chapter 1:

The night was thick with tension, the forest alive with the quiet rustling of leaves and the occasional distant cry of a night bird. The moon hung high, its cold light casting long, shifting shadows across the ground as the slayer moved through the dense underbrush. Her movements were swift, almost a blur, as her nichirin blade sliced through the air with the practiced ease of someone who had faced countless battles. Each step was calculated, each breath measured, as she confronted the demons that lurked in the darkness.

The first demon lunged at her, its grotesque form barely discernible in the dim light. With a sharp, fluid motion, the young slayer sidestepped its attack, her blade flashing as it cleaved through the demon’s neck.

The creature barely had time to react before its body disintegrated into ash, carried away by the night breeze. Before she could catch her breath, another demon sprang from the shadows, its claws reaching for her with deadly intent. Meeting it head-on, her blade a blur as she dispatched it with a single, decisive strike.

As the last of the demons fell, the slayer exhaled slowly, the adrenaline of the fight still coursing through her veins. She flicked her wrist, sending the ashing blood on her blade splattering onto the ground. Her kimono, once a pristine black adorned with delicate rose patterns, was now torn and slightly stained, the elegant fabric marred by the brutality of the battle. Sighing softly, her gaze lingering on the ruined garment. The young lady had been keen on taking good care and keep it in perfect condition. Even while tending to the discovered garden earlier that day, she made sure her monomi was clean and undisturbed. But now, all that effort seemed wasted.

As she sheathed her sword, a faint rustling caught her attention. Turning toward the sound, she saw a fellow Demon Slayer emerging from the trees, his face pale and etched with a mixture of relief and awe. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the fallen demons, clearly overwhelmed by what he had just witnessed. "Thank you," he managed to say, his voice shaky with emotion. "You saved my life… I was outnumbered, and I didn’t think I’d make it."

The young slayer offered him a smile, her expression softening as she regarded him. "I’m just glad I was able to get here in time," she replied, her tone calm and reassuring. "I happened to be passing by when I received a call from a crow to assist. I’m currently not in duty—hence why I’m out of uniform. Still, I’m very glad you asked for assistance.”

The young Slayer’s gaze flickered to her kimono, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed that she wasn’t wearing the standard uniform. "I didn’t realize you were a Slayer at first," he admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring his tone. "You weren’t in uniform, and I…"

"It’s understandable," Y/N said, waving off his concerns with a small gesture. "Appearances can be deceiving. But the important thing is that we’re safe. Are you alright? No injuries correct?”

He shook his head quickly, his expression one of gratitude. "I’m fine, thanks to you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

"I’m glad to hear that," she replied. "It’s what we do, after all—protect each other."

As the young Slayer nodded in agreement, motioned his goodbyes, and turned to leave, the slayer bent down to retrieve her gardening tools. She took a glance at her attire once more, a pang of regret tugging at her heart. The Wisteria Estate where she was staying for the time being, one of the many meant for slayers to rest in and settle temporarily, was miles away, that is the the one that was she more accustomed in staying as as well as had her minor belongings in. She could only imagine the strange looks she might receive as she traveled back with her garment in such disrepair. At least her face and rest of her features had remained untouched, not a scratch marring her appearance despite the ferocity of the battle.

Suddenly, flutter of wings drew her gaze upward. A black crow swooped down, its beady eyes glinting in the moonlight. It circled above her head before landing on a nearby branch. “Y/N!” it cawed. “You are to be summoned by Master. Report to the Master’s mansion immediately.”

Her head slightly tilted in question. The Master’s mansion? The young lady had never been called to see the Master, let alone even gotten a glimpse of the well respected leader.

The Master was a figure shrouded in mystery, known only through whispers and the crows’ messages. Only hearing stories of his wisdom and kindness, but also of his enigmatic presence.

Sheathing her blade, she set off with the crow as her guide, her mind racing with possibilities. The journey was quite long, but her curiosity propelled she forward.

~

As dawn approached, she finally reached the gates of the Master’s estate. The sprawling grounds were bathed in the soft, golden light of morning, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming wisteria.

A pair of attendants greeted her at the entrance, leading the young slayer through the winding paths and serene gardens. She marveled at the beauty around her, the tranquility a stark contrast to the bloodshed and chaos she had left behind. Eventually, they arrived at a grand hall, its doors intricately carved with symbols of protection and strength.

The doors creaked open, and the girl stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat. The hall was vast, with high ceilings and walls adorned with ancient scrolls and paintings. At the far end, seated on a comfortable futon platform, was the Master himself. His presence was commanding yet gentle, his eyes closed as he listened to the soft murmur of the attendants.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft yet resonant, carrying across the hall like a melody. “Welcome.”

Y/N approached, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Knelling before the Master, bowing her head in respect. “Master,” she said, her voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in her chest.

The master sat quietly for a moment, his serene presence filling the room. Y/N stood before him, her heart pounding in anticipation and curiosity. The walls of the room seemed to close in, making the space feel more intimate, almost sacred.

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before," the master began, his voice calm and gentle. "But I have certainly noticed your efforts as a slayer."

The slayer bowed her head in respect. "It is an honor to meet you, Master."

The master smiled, a glint of pride in his eyes. "You have shown remarkable strength and dedication in your missions. Your unique abilities have not gone unnoticed."

The slayer felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, but a question hung in the air, unspoken but palpable.

"Do you know why you are here today?" the master asked, his tone turning more inquisitive.

Y/N blinked, her mind racing to find an answer. She had been summoned without explanation, and her thoughts had been a whirlwind of possibilities since then. Finally, she shook her head, her confusion evident. "No, Master, I do not."

The master nodded, seemingly expecting her response. "Today, I am honored to officially recognize you as a Hashira. You have slayed more demons than the expected amount as ranked Hashira. Your unique abilities and unwavering spirit have earned you this title. You have done well.”

The young woman’s heart swelled with pride and joy at his words, but also with confusion. “Master,” she began hesitantly, “I am honored, but I am also surprised. I never expected to be promoted to Hashira so soon. Why me?”

The Master’s smile deepened, his eyes reflecting a calm assurance. “Your shock is understandable, Y/N, but your title is well-deserved. You have consistently shown extraordinary strength and skill, exceeding the kills of many demons. You have proven yourself fit and strong enough to face even the Twelve Kizuki in the future.”

The slayer’s eyes widened at his words, but the Master continued. “Moreover, I have noticed something remarkable about your missions. Whenever you lead a group of slayers, there are always little to no major injuries among them. They return safe, largely thanks to your presence and leadership.”

A wave of realization washed over the demon slayer as the Master’s words sank in. She had always strived to protect her fellow comrades, but hearing it acknowledged so clearly was both humbling and empowering.

The Master gestured to an attendant, who stepped forward with folded fabrics. “This is your new uniform, a symbol of your rank and your duty,” he said. “You are now the Blood Hashira, the first of your kind.”

The Blood Breathing user accepted the bundle, its fabric rich and adorned with the writing stating ‘Blood Hashira.’ She could feel the weight of her new responsibilities settling on her shoulders, but also the thrill of recognition and purpose.

“The path of a Hashira is fraught with danger and challenges,” the Master continued. “But it is also a path of great honor and reward. You will have access to the best resources, training, and support we can offer. Your strength will inspire and protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

The girl, now a Hashira, looked up at the Master, her eyes shining with determination. “I understand, Master. I will do everything in my power to uphold this honor and fulfill my duties.”

The Master nodded, his eyes full of pride and warmth. “I have no doubt that you will. Remember, Y/N, your strength lies not just in your abilities, but in your heart. You are a beacon of hope for us all.”

Feeling the swell of emotion at his words, her resolve hardened. She was ready to embrace her new role, to fight with everything she had to protect humanity from the demons that threatened it.

As the Master finished speaking, he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Y/N, are you familiar with the rest of the Hashira?” he questioned.

The young lady paused for a moment, striving to recall if she had ever personal meet any of them. She had heard multiple rumors that certain element breathing Hashira’s were indeed intimating, some would even belittling and harassing the other lower ranking slayers due to their superiority. Even so, she had never bothered to memorize their names or be intrigued in any rumors or saying going around regarding them. Focusing more on training and completing missions, abolishing demons. “No Master. I have yet to ever come face to face with any of them.”

He nodded, the sunlight filtering through the delicate cherry blossom trees casting a dappled pattern across his face. "Take some time to wander the grounds and enjoy the peace. The other Hashira will seek you out. I am sure they are eager to meet you.”

With a final bow, you bowed respectfully and left the wing, beginning to explore the mansion’s grounds. The beauty of the place was almost overwhelming, each step revealing another stunning view—a lush bamboo grove swaying gently in the breeze, a bridge arching gracefully over a sparkling pond, and a small pavilion where the Master often sat in quiet contemplation. The tranquil surroundings put you at ease, calming the remnants of the tension you carried from your previous battles.

Here, in this sanctuary, it was easy to forget the horrors that awaited outside the mansion’s walls.

As she wandered and admired the beauty of the Master’s Estate, she heard footsteps approaching, and you turned to see a group of individuals making their way towards her.

The first to come the closest to her was a tall man with a fiery mane of red and yellow hair, his presence as warm and vibrant as the sun. The man’s eyes were filled with a boundless energy, his smile as bright as his flame-colored haori. "Ah, you must be the Blood Hashira!" he greeted you with a booming voice that matched his powerful aura. "I’m Kyojuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira. It’s a pleasure to meet you!"

His enthusiasm was infectious, and the girl couldn’t help but return his smile. There was something comforting about his presence, as if his very being radiated a sense of protection and warmth.

Before the Blood Breathing user could respond, another figure from the group greeted you —a striking man adorned with an array of flashy accessories, from his headband to the multiple earrings that caught the light. His long, silver hair shimmered like the surface of a moonlit river. "Tengen Uzui here, Sound Hashira. The Blood Hashira, huh? Sounds flashy! I like it!" His grin was wide and confident, a man who clearly took pride in his appearance and power. Tengen’s boldness was both intriguing and slightly overwhelming, his loud personality a stark contrast to the peaceful surroundings. Yet, there was a charm to his audacity, a confidence that seemed unshakable.

Another slightly shorter man than the first two came forward, his expression hard and unyielding. His sharp eyes, framed by a wild mess of white hair, assessed you with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "Sanemi Shinazugawa," he introduced himself brusquely. "Let’s hope you’re as strong as they say." His voice was edged with challenge, and the slayer could feel the weight of his expectations pressing down on her. She met his gaze steadily, understanding that respect from him would have to be earned.

Next one to free you was a small, graceful woman with a deceptively gentle smile. She moved with the lightness of a butterfly, her presence delicate yet undeniably sharp. "Shinobu Kocho, Insect Hashira. Welcome to our ranks. I look forward to working with you." Her voice was sweet, almost musical, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes that spoke of lethal skill hidden behind her soft exterior. Her beauty was astonishing as well, the new promoted Hashira admiring her looks.

Finally, a towering figure approached, his massive frame almost dwarfing the peaceful surroundings, greeted you with a calm, deep voice that resonated through the garden. "Gyomei Himejima," he said, his hands clasped in a prayer-like gesture. "May your path be blessed with strength and courage." His presence was like that of a mountain—unmovable, steady, and profoundly comforting.

As each Hashira introduced themselves, you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity when the last one stepped forward and remained silent. His presence was quieter than the others, but no less commanding.

Then, she realized.

It was him—the swordsman from the garden that night, the one who had sternly told her to leave. His intense blue eyes locked onto hers, and she could see the recognition flicker across his face. He gave her a brief gaze, his expression unreadable.

He didn’t introduce himself, just like that night. Instead, he turned and walked away, his patterned haori fluttering lightly in the breeze, leaving you with a sense of unresolved curiosity. Why hadn’t he spoken? Why did he remain so distant?

Before the girl could ponder further, Master Ubuyashiki’s voice interrupted her thoughts. "Now that you’ve met your fellow Hashira, I will dismiss you all. I have no doubt that you will grow to rely on each other in the battles to come."

The Hashira began to disperse, leaving her standing alone in the tranquil garden, her thoughts lingering on the mysterious swordsman from last night and that piercing gaze. There was something about him that intrigued her, something that made herwant to understand him better. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the journey that lies ahead. She was the Blood Hashira now, and she would prove yourself worthy of the title.

The sunlight slightly gleamed upon the Earth, creating a small warmth wave across the surface as Y/N stepped through the threshold of the Master's mansion, the echoes of her soft footsteps lost in the vastness of the surrounding garden. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting silver light upon her path. The tranquility was almost unsettling after the intensity of her recent induction as a Hashira. As she neared the stone steps leading to the courtyard, a gentle voice called out from behind.

"Lady Y/N," the voice was soft, almost hesitant. She turned to see one of the Master's attendants, a young woman with kind eyes and a graceful demeanor. Beside her stood a girl, delicate and serene, a complete replica of the older woman she was beside, excluding the shorter hair.

"Is something the matter?" The departing lady asked, her voice equally gentle, though laced with a hint of confusion.

The attendant stepped forward, her hands clasped respectfully in front of her. "Forgive me for intruding, Lady Y/N, but before you depart, we must collect your blade."

Y/N’s brow furrowed, her hand instinctively brushing the hilt of her sword, a weapon that had become almost an extension of her own being. "My blade?" she repeated, perplexed.

The attendant smiled, understanding her confusion. "Yes, every Hashira is gifted a new sword upon their ascension. It is tradition. The Master wishes to ensure that your weapon is of the highest quality, forged anew with the finest ore. The words 'Destroyer of Demons' will be engraved upon it by the most skilled swordsmiths in the land."

The Blood Hashira hesitated for a moment, her grip on her sword tightening before she slowly began to unfasten it from her side. She handed the blade over, the attendant accepting it with a deep bow of respect. "It will be returned to you soon, stronger and more refined," the attendant assured her.

"Thank you," she said softly, though her mind still lingered on the idea of parting with a sword that had seen so many battles at her side, her greatest weapon of protection. But as she released it, a sense of new beginnings washed over her, a subtle thrill of anticipation for her new upgrade.

The shorter attendee, silent until now, stepped forward, her delicate hands holding a small, ornate box. She opened it to reveal a finely crafted red bow, which she offered to Y/N. "For your crow," the girl said, her voice almost musical. "The messenger has already been sent to fetch your belongings. You will be escorted to your new estate with guidance from your crow. It’s your right as a Hashira to have a place of your own, filled with clothing and furnishings befitting your station."

The girl blinked, absorbing the unexpected news. "An estate?" she repeated, her tone marked with surprise.

The attendant nodded, smiling warmly. "Indeed. It is situated in a secluded area, surrounded by nature, where you can find peace and solace when you are not on duty. Your crow will guide you there."

As if on cue, a sharp caw echoed through the night, and the young slayer turned to see a dark silhouette perched on a nearby branch. The crow's feathers were sleek, gleaming like obsidian under the moonlight.

A wave of familiarity washed over Y/N at the sight of her crow. It had been some time since she had seen it, having been off duty and receiving her orders from other crows in the interim. The bird had been her companion through countless missions, its sarcastic wit a constant in the chaos of her life. Now, seeing it again after what felt like an eternity, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Finally done with all the formalities?" the crow croaked, its voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound light in the warm noon air. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Did you miss me?”

The crow fluffed its feathers, clearly put out by the suggestion. "Missed you? Hardly. I’ve simply been bored out of my mind with these other assignments. But at least now things might get interesting again."

The young girl shook her head, still smiling as she took the box from the Master's daughter and carefully tied the bow around the bird’s neck. "You haven’t changed a bit," she remarked, her tone affectionate despite the crow’s sharp words.

The crow puffed out its chest, clearly pleased with its new accessory. "Someone has to keep you on schedule. Now, are you ready to see this grand estate of yours, or would you prefer to wander the forest all night?"

"Lead the way," she replied, her voice laced with amusement as she followed the crow, the faintest breeze carrying the scent of jasmine and pine.

The crow flew ahead, its dark wings slicing through the bright air of the early day beginning , leading the young slayer along a narrow path illuminated by the soft glow of sunlight peaking over. The landscape around them was serene, untouched by the chaos she had so often encountered on her travels. Tall trees, their leaves shimmering like gold in the sun gaze, lined the path, creating a lightning gloom that blended gently in the breeze of the forest. The scent of pine and earth was rich, grounding her as she walked, her steps quiet and deliberate.

Y/N’s thoughts drifted back to the words of the attendant. “It will be your responsibility to watch over and guard the surrounding area and villages nearby from your estate, from any demons, every night or whenever you’re around.” The weight of those words settled on her shoulders, a familiar burden, yet now there was a permanence to it. This place—this estate—would be her new base, her stronghold against the darkness that threatened the innocent lives she had sworn to protect.

The path began to widen, and the young lady noticed subtle changes in the surroundings. The trees, though still wild and ancient, seemed more deliberately spaced, their trunks standing as silent sentinels guiding her way. She could make out the faintest glimmers of lantern in the distance, warm light spilling across the ground, beckoning her forward.

When she finally reached the estate, she paused, her breath catching in her throat. The structure before her was breathtaking—a sprawling mansion that seemed to emerge from the very heart of the forest, its wooden beams and tiled roof blending harmoniously with the nature surrounding it. The architecture was elegant, every line and curve a testament to the craftsmanship that had gone into its construction.

A large yard spread out before the mansion, meticulously maintained with stone pathways winding through lush gardens. Cherry blossom trees, their petals pale against the night sky, dotted the landscape, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. A koi pond reflected the moonlight, the water calm and clear, the fish gliding silently beneath the surface. It was a place of peace, a haven from the world beyond its gates.

But as Y/N took it all in, a sense of unease crept over her. This estate was beautiful—too beautiful, too grand for someone like her. It was almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the life she had known. She had grown up in an orphanage, sharing a single room with many others, where space and belongings were scarce. The only constants in her life had been the camaraderie of the other children and the bare necessities.

Now, she was faced with an estate that could house a dozen families, each room likely larger than the entire orphanage she had once called home.

"This is… a lot," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she stepped into the yard. The crow, perched on a low branch nearby, tilted its head, regarding her with a knowing look.

"Overwhelmed, are we?" it cawed, its tone a mix of amusement and something almost sympathetic. "Not exactly what you’re used to, is it?"

Y/N shook her head, still trying to process the sheer scale of it all. "No, it’s not. It’s… too much, really."

The crow fluttered down from the branch and landed on a stone lantern, its sharp eyes watching her closely. "You’ve earned this, you know. This isn’t just a reward; it’s a necessity. A Hashira needs a place to retreat, to recover. You can’t protect anyone if you don’t take care of yourself first."

The young woman sighed softly, the truth in the crow’s words settling in her heart. It was true—she needed a place to rest, to gather her strength between battles. But still, the grandeur of it all made her feel out of place, as if she were an intruder in a life that wasn’t her own.

Slowly, she walked up the steps to the mansion’s entrance, the wooden doors large and imposing, yet beautifully carved with intricate designs. She pushed them open, and the inside revealed itself as just as elegant as the exterior. The main hall was vast, with high ceilings and polished wooden floors that gleamed in the lantern light. Tatami mats lined the floor, and sliding doors led to other rooms, each one a mystery waiting to be explored.

Despite the overwhelming luxury, there was a quietness to the space, a sense of solitude that spoke to her. Perhaps, with time, she could come to call this place home. Perhaps, in these halls and gardens, she could find a sense of belonging she had never known before.

As she stood there, taking in the mansion that was now hers, the crow flapped its wings and settled on her shoulder, its familiar weight a comfort. "Don’t let it overwhelm you," it murmured, its voice softer now, almost gentle. "This is just the beginning. You’ll grow into it. After all, a Hashira’s life is always one of adaptation."

The young lady nodded, a quiet determination forming within her. This estate, this responsibility—she would embrace it, not because it was expected of her, but because it was her path.

~

Time had a strange way of slipping through the young lady’s fingers in the weeks following her induction as a Hashira. The days blended together, marked by rigorous training, daily missions, and constant patrols. Yet, despite the relentless pace, she found herself slowly adapting to this new life—one of solitude and silent determination, a life that required her to be both warrior and guardian.

A week after her arrival at the estate, she stood in the main hall, waiting as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting the room in shades of amber and gold. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, processing the challenges she had just faced in her first missions as a Hashira. The demons she encountered were far more formidable than those she had faced as a regular slayer, their cunning and strength a stark reminder of the power she now had to wield. But despite the major increase in difficulty, every mission had ended in success, her blade cutting through the darkness with precision and determination.

As she reflected on these battles, the large wooden doors of the mansion creaked open, and a figure stepped inside, his presence almost overshadowed by the massive bundle he carried on his back. He was a broad-shouldered man with graying hair tied back in a messy knot, his hands calloused from years of working with metal. His clothes were simple, but the weight of experience hung about him like an invisible cloak.

“Lady L/N,” he greeted with a deep bow, setting down the bundle with care. “It is an honor to meet you again. My name is Kurogane, and I’ve come to deliver your new blade.”

The young lady approached, her gaze flickering to the wrapped sword he laid before her. She had grown accustomed to the weight of her previous blade, but there was an undeniable excitement in receiving something newly forged, something that would become an extension of herself in battle.

“Mr. Kurogane,” She acknowledged with a respectful nod, her eyes tracing the outlines of the package, eager to see the weapon that had been crafted for her.

Kurogane unwrapped the sword with reverence, revealing a gleaming blade of deep crimson, the metal polished to a mirror-like sheen. The hilt was intricately designed, wrapped in black and deep red fabric that provided a firm grip. Along the flat of the blade, the words “Destroyer of Demons” were engraved with precise care, the characters catching the light in a way that made them almost glow.

“This sword is forged from the finest ore, selected specifically for you,” Kurogane explained as Y/N gently took the sword into her hands, feeling the perfect balance, the way it felt like it was meant for her and her alone. “It’s lighter, sharper, and more durable than your previous blade. The engraving was done by a master craftsman—it will serve you well in your duty as a Hashira.”

The slayer turned the sword in her hands, testing its weight, feeling the way it cut through the air with effortless grace. It was indeed a work of art, but more than that, it was a tool, a weapon she would rely on to protect those who could not protect themselves.

“It’s perfect,” she said softly, her voice tinged with awe. “Thank you, Mr. Kurogane.”

Kurogane gave a small, satisfied smile. “I’m glad it pleases you, Lady L/N. Remember, this blade will serve you well, but it will also require care. Should you ever need adjustments, or if the sword is damaged in battle, do not hesitate to contact me. I’ll come at once to ensure it remains in perfect condition.”

Y/N nodded, appreciating the craftsman’s dedication. “I will. Your work is remarkable—I’m honored to wield this blade.”

With another deep bow, Kurogane took his leave, the doors of the mansion closing behind him with a soft thud, leaving Y/N alone with her new sword. She stood there for a moment longer, simply holding the blade, letting its weight settle into her hands, before she sheathed it and attached it to her side. The sword was hers now, and it felt as if a piece of her had finally fallen into place.

As the days passed, Y/N fell into a routine, though ‘routine’ was a generous word for the life of a Hashira. Every morning began with rigorous training in the mansion’s extensive grounds. The estate was vast, almost too vast for her alone, but she made use of every part of it. The training grounds, with their open space and various terrains, allowed her to push herself further than she ever had before, perfecting her techniques, strengthening her body, and honing her mind.

Missions came frequently, each one more challenging than the last. She faced demons of all kinds—cunning, powerful, and relentless. Yet, despite the growing difficulty, she met each challenge head-on, her new blade slicing through the darkness with deadly precision. The demons she fought were more vicious, their abilities more refined, but they still fell before her, one by one. However, she had yet to encounter an Upper Rank demon, and that fact both relieved and unsettled her. The anticipation of such a battle lingered in her mind, but for now, she was content to focus on the tasks at hand.

In the evenings, after the sun had set and the world had quieted, Y/N would return to the estate, the exhaustion of the day’s battles weighing on her limbs. She had grown accustomed to the mansion, its grandeur no longer as overwhelming as it once had been. The hot springs and baths became a sanctuary, the warmth soothing her tired muscles and allowing her a rare moment of peace. The estate’s resources were plentiful—almost too plentiful—but she found comfort in the quiet luxury, in the moments when she could simply be, without the weight of her duties pressing down on her.

The mansion’s gardens, too, became a place of solace. She often found herself wandering the stone pathways at night, the cherry blossoms glowing softly under the moonlight, their petals a gentle reminder of the beauty that still existed in the world despite the darkness she fought against. The koi pond, with its calm waters, offered her a moment of reflection, the fish moving silently beneath the surface, their movements soothing in their simplicity.

However, the abandoned sanctuary from before lingered in her mind. She hadn’t had time recently to go assist the forgotten garden. Mentally noting to pass by next time she’s out on a mission, no matter how exhausted she may be.

Now, it was the training grounds where she spent most of her time, pushing herself to the limit, testing the boundaries of her new blade, and preparing for whatever battles lay ahead. The vastness of the estate no longer felt overwhelming—it felt like a challenge, a place where she could grow stronger, where she could become the skilled slayer she needed to be.

The crow, always by her side, watched over her with a sarcastic but unwavering loyalty, its sharp comments a constant companion in her solitude. “You’re getting used to this place, aren’t you?” it would caw, perched on a branch as she trained.

Y/N would merely smile, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Perhaps. It’s starting to feel… like mine.”

The crow would fluff its feathers, its tone as dry as ever. “Good. Because you’re stuck with it. Might as well make the best of it.”

And so she did. Each day brought new challenges, new demons to slay, new victories to be won. The estate, once overwhelming in its grandeur, became a part of her, a place where she could find strength and peace in equal measure.

In just a month, she had begun to truly understand what it meant to be a Hashira. It wasn’t just about the battles or the demons—it was about the responsibility, the constant vigilance, the never-ending drive to protect and serve. It was a life of solitude, but it was also one of purpose. And in the quiet moments, when she stood in the gardens or soaked in the hot springs, she found that she was not just surviving—she was thriving, embracing the life that had been laid before her.

Weeks had passed since Y/N had fully settled into her new role as a Hashira, her life marked by a steady rhythm of missions, training, and solitude. Her daily routine became almost second nature—a ritual of honing her skills, perfecting her techniques, and ensuring that she was always prepared for whatever new threat might arise.

Yet, as she sharpened her blade one quiet morning, her routine was abruptly interrupted by the sudden arrival of her messenger crow.

It swooped into the courtyard, cawing loudly as it landed on the stone ledge near her, the red bow around its neck fluttering in the breeze. “Lady Y/N, you’re summoned to the Master’s mansion. Urgently.”

She paused, her hand stilling on the blade. It was unusual to be called to the Master’s mansion so suddenly, and the crow’s tone carried an unspoken urgency. She sheathed her sword, her mind already shifting from the quiet of her estate to the unknown reason behind the summons.

“Very well,” she replied, her voice calm despite the stirring of curiosity in her chest. She wiped her hands clean and adjusted her uniform before following the crow, who led the way with a sharp caw, its wings beating steadily against the early morning air.

As they made their way through the forested path, she allowed herself a moment to take in the surroundings—the familiar trees, the scent of damp earth, and the distant sounds of life in the village below. She recalled the attendant’s words from her first day, reminding her of her responsibility to watch over these lands. The weight of that duty settled over her like a cloak, but it was one she had grown accustomed to wearing.

Before long, the Master’s mansion came into view, its presence as imposing as ever. The ancient structure stood tall and serene, a beacon of guidance and leadership for the Demon Slayer Corps. Y/N approached the entrance, where several attendants awaited her arrival, their faces a mixture of solemnity and respect.

“Lady L/N, welcome,” one of them greeted, bowing deeply. “The Master is expecting you. Please follow us.”

Without a word, the young lady nodded and followed the attendants through the winding halls of the mansion. The atmosphere inside was calm, almost ethereal, with the soft rustle of robes and the distant murmur of wind chimes filling the air. The serenity of the place was a stark contrast to the constant chaos and danger that defined her life outside these walls.

Finally, they arrived at a set of sliding doors, which one of the attendants gently pushed open. Inside, the room was bathed in soft light, the shoji screens filtering the sunlight into gentle hues of gold. The Master sat in his usual spot, his presence as calming as ever, radiating an aura of quiet authority. His attendants flanked him, their expressions unreadable but attentive.

But it wasn’t the Master who immediately caught Y/N’s attention—it was the figure seated before him, on the opposite side of the room. The same mysterious man who had not introduced himself to her all those weeks ago in the garden, his presence now as imposing as it had been then. He sat with a composed demeanor, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes fixed ahead.

As she entered, the Master’s gentle voice filled the room, drawing her attention back to him. “L/N, thank you for coming on such short notice,” he began, his tone warm and inviting. “There is someone I would like you to meet formally.”

The young slayer approached and bowed deeply, her eyes flicking momentarily to the man seated before her before returning to the Master. “Of course, Master. It is an honor to be here.”

The Master’s kind smile deepened. “This is Giyuu Tomioka, the Water Hashira. He was present during your first visit, though I’m not sure you both did had the opportunity to be introduced properly. Tomioka, this is L/N, our newly appointed Blood Hashira. I have summoned you both today because there is a matter of great importance that requires your combined strength and skills.”

Y/N’s gaze shifted to Giyuu once more, this time with a newfound respect. She had heard of the Water Hashira the past month, his reputation as a formidable and stoic warrior preceding him. The memory of their brief encounter in the garden returned to her, the way he had been so stern, so seemingly unapproachable. Now, as they stood in the same room, she realized that this mission would be her first opportunity to truly work alongside another Hashira.

Giyuu inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his expression as unreadable as ever. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N,” he said, his voice low and even, betraying none of the thoughts that might be running through his mind.

She returned the gesture, her own voice steady. “Likewise, Mr. Tomioka .”

The Master’s voice gently interrupted their exchange. “I am confident that you two will work well together,” he said, his tone imbued with the wisdom of someone who had seen many partnerships forged and tested. “The mission I’m about to assign to you is of great importance.”

The Master’s voice, gentle yet filled with the gravity of the situation, broke the silence. “There is a demon terrorizing a village far to the west,” he began, his tone steady but serious.

“This is not just any village—it is a heavily populated area, teeming with innocent lives. However, it’s also under the watchful eyes of government police who do not acknowledge the existence of the Demon Slayer Corps. Should they see you in your uniforms, it could cause significant trouble, both for you and for our mission. It would also alert the demon to your presence, giving it the opportunity to flee or prepare an ambush.”

She felt the weight of the Master’s words sink in. A mission in a populated area, under the scrutiny of the authorities, would require not just strength but careful strategy and discretion.

“The demon itself is exceptionally dangerous,” the Master continued, his expression growing darker. “It has been causing widespread destruction, reducing entire buildings to rubble with an explosive demon art. This, coupled with its relentless killing of innocent people, has spread fear throughout the region. The demon has proven elusive, using the chaos it creates to cover its tracks. Your task will be to locate and eliminate this demon without drawing attention to yourselves or the Corps. It is imperative that you succeed, as well as keep the injured and casualties as little as possible.”

As he spoke, the girl could feel the enormity of the mission pressing down on her shoulders. This was no ordinary demon, and the risks involved were far greater than any she had faced before. Yet, alongside the weight of responsibility, there was also a fierce determination growing within her—an unwavering resolve to protect those who could not protect themselves.

“We will not fail, Master,” Y/N vowed, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions within her. “We will bring this demon to justice and ensure the safety of the city and its citizens.”

Giyuu nodded, his expression solemn but resolute. “We’ll handle it.”

The Master’s expression softened, a small smile playing on his lips. “I have no doubt that you will succeed. May you both return safely, and may your blades bring an end to the darkness that threatens our world.”

With that, the meeting was concluded, the Master’s attendants bowing as Y/N and Giyuu exited the room together. The weight of the mission hung between them, a shared responsibility that would bind them in the days to come.

As they walked through the halls of the mansion, Y/N felt the presence of Giyuu beside her, a silent but undeniable force. She had heard here and there of his strength but more so of his cold demeanor in battle, but there was more to him than the rumors suggested—an undercurrent of resolve and perhaps, a shared understanding of the burden they both carried as slayers.

When they reached the mansion’s entrance, Y/N paused, turning to Giyuu. “This is my first major mission as a Hashira,” she admitted, her voice steady but tinged with the honesty that she rarely allowed herself. “I won’t let you down.”

Giyuu regarded her for a moment, his expression inscrutable, before he nodded. “We’ll do this together,” he replied, his tone firm, if not entirely cold. “No one fights alone.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, her resolve hardening. Together, they would face whatever awaited them in the faraway village. Together, they would bring an end to the terror that had gripped it. And together, they would prove that the Hashira, despite their solitary nature, were united in their mission to protect the world from the darkness that threatened to consume it.

As they departed the Master’s mansion, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that this mission was the beginning of something—something that would test not just her strength, but her character, her resolve, and her ability to work alongside another Hashira.

~

The journey to the distant village was long, the landscape shifting from dense forests to rolling hills as they moved hurriedly through the night. Y/N beside Giyuu, the silence between them stretching on, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. Despite the quiet, her mind buzzed with thoughts, the weight of the mission ahead pressing on her, yet she couldn’t shake the curiosity she felt toward her companion.

The Water Hashira was an enigma—stoic, silent, and seemingly detached from everything around him. Y/N had some rumors recently about his strength but mostly on his very cold demur from other low ranking slayers, but seeing him up close only deepened the mystery. After hours of silence, she decided to break the ice, hoping to make the journey less…awkward.

“So, Mr. Tomioka,” she began, her voice light as she tried to coax him into conversation. “Have you been on many missions like this? Where we have to be extra cautious around human authorities?”

Giyuu’s gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression unchanging. “A few,” he replied curtly, offering nothing more.

The young girl stifled a sigh but kept her tone friendly. “I see. This is my first mission where we have to stay so hidden. It’s a little unnerving, knowing we have to avoid being seen just as much as we need to avoid the demon.”

“Mmm,” Giyuu responded, his tone indifferent as he maintained his pace, not bothering to add anything further.

Y/N felt a twinge of frustration at his lack of engagement, but she wasn’t ready to give up. After a moment of silence, she shot him a sidelong glance, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Mr. Tomioka You know, I’ve been thinking… Everyone else introduced themselves to me when we met, but you didn’t. It’s almost like you’re trying to be so mysterious.”

Giyuu’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t look at her. “I didn’t think it was necessary,” he said, his voice still flat, though there was a hint of defensiveness.

“Oh, really?” She teased, her tone light and playful. “Well, I must say, I was a little offended. Here I was, meeting the rest of the Hashira for the first time, and one of them doesn’t even bother with introductions. I started to think you didn’t like me.”

Giyuu’s steps faltered ever so slightly, the only indication that her words had reached him. He remained silent for a moment, clearly not used to such teasing. “It wasn’t personal,” he finally muttered, his voice quiet.

Y/N chuckled softly, her smile widening at his response. “I know, I’m just teasing you Mr. Tomioka, but I suppose I can forgive you. After all, you did greatly warn me about the dangers of being out so late that one night in the forest” She continued on teasing, laughing slightly.

Giyuu didn’t respond to her jest, his expression unreadable, but the young lady noticed the slight relaxation in his posture. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small crack in the stoic facade he wore so effortlessly.

As they continued, the night deepened, and they found a secluded spot in the forest to rest. Though they both preferred to travel under the cover of darkness, seeking out any demons along the way, they needed to conserve their energy for the battles that awaited them. The city was still far, and rushing in exhausted would do them no favors.

They set up a small camp, forgoing a fire to remain undetected. Y/N sat on a fallen log, her eyes scanning the dense trees around them. She knew demons were near—they always were in places like this—but tonight had been strangely quiet.

Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes a few feet away caught her attention. She remarked and her hand instinctively flew for the hilt of her sword, but before she could act, Giyuu was already on his feet. In one fluid motion, he dashed forward, his blade cutting through the air with precision.

The demon barely had time to emerge before Giyuu’s sword sliced through it, reducing it to a heap of ashes in mere seconds. The movement was so swift, so seamless, that Y/N found herself staring in awe. He hadn’t even used his rumored Water Breathing technique—just pure skill and raw power.

“Impressive,” The young slayer commented, her voice laced with genuine admiration as Giyuu sheathed his sword.

Giyuu glanced at her, his expression still unreadable. “There is need to draw attention with breathing techniques right now,” he said simply, noting the feat as nothing out of the ordinary.

Y/N nodded, still marveling at how effortlessly he had dispatched the demon. She had yet to use her own Blood Breathing since their journey began, relying instead on her swordsmanship and instinct. It wasn’t out of necessity, but rather a shared understanding between them that using their breathing techniques would signal their presence to any lurking demons—or worse, alert any other nearby authorities they were trying to avoid.

As the night wore on, they encountered a few more demons, each more persistent than the last. Y/N held her own, dispatching them with calculated strikes and maintaining her composure even when they attacked in pairs. Giyuu, meanwhile, remained a force to be reckoned with, his every move precise and controlled.

It wasn’t long before they continued their journey, the distant lights of the nearby villages still far ahead. The road was long and filled with dangers, but Y/N found herself growing more accustomed to the silence between them. Even without conversation, there was a mutual respect forming—an understanding that, despite their differences, they were both committed to the same cause.

~

As the first light of dawn began to crest over the horizon, both of the slayers approached the outskirts of the bustling city. The city loomed ahead, its towering gates and bustling streets framed by distant mountains. The journey had been long, and though they had faced their share of dangers along the way, they had moved with a quiet determination, always mindful of their mission. But now, as they drew closer to their destination, a new challenge presented itself.

The city was under high alert, its gates heavily guarded by stern-faced officials, their eyes sharp and vigilant. The demon's recent rampage had left the populace on edge, and the authorities were not taking any chances. With the demon's explosive attacks wreaking havoc on the city, they would be suspicious of any strangers, especially those who might appear out of place.

The young girl glanced at her companion, her thoughts swirling with the complexities of their situation. Entering the city as Demon Slayers, adorned in their uniforms, would undoubtedly draw unwanted attention. The police force, though aware of demons, did not officially acknowledge the Demon Slayer Corps, and their presence could easily complicate matters. They needed a plan—one that would allow them to blend in and avoid unnecessary scrutiny.

"We can't just walk in wearing these," Y/N murmured, gesturing to their uniforms. "It'll raise too many questions. The city's on edge, and the last thing we need is the authorities on our backs before we even reach the demon."

Tomioka nodded, his expression serious as he scanned the surrounding area. His eyes fell on a small, bustling market set up just outside the city's gates, where vendors sold everything from fresh produce to finely woven garments. The solution presented itself almost immediately. "We should buy new attire—something that will help us blend in. And a carriage, too. We’ll need a cover story."

"A carriage?" Y/N echoed, following his gaze to the market. "You're thinking we pose as traveling vendors?"

"It’s the simplest way to avoid suspicion," Tomioka replied. "With the city on high alert, it makes sense that traders would still be allowed in. If we enter as vendors, no one will think twice about our presence."

The young lady considered this for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "That could work. Let's go find what we need."

Together, they made their way to the market. The early morning sun cast a warm glow over the stalls, the air filled with the mingling scents of fresh vegetables, roasted chestnuts, and newly spun cloth. It was a far cry from the quiet forests they had traveled through, but the young lady found comfort in the lively atmosphere. It was almost easy to forget the danger that awaited them just beyond the city walls.

They approached a vendor selling traditional clothing, and Y/N began sorting through the neatly folded kimonos, looking for something simple yet practical. She chose a dark navy kimono with a subtle pattern of swirling waves, its design understated but elegant. Giyuu selected a similar garment, though his was a muted gray with a faint hint of indigo. The fabrics were light and unassuming—perfect for their needs.

As they paid for the clothes, the slayer noticed a nearby stall offering freshly baked rice cakes and steamed buns. The vendor, an elderly woman with a kind smile, waved them over. "Are you travelers, dearies? Here, take some of these for your journey. They’re fresh from the oven."

Y/N smiled warmly at the woman, accepting the wrapped food gratefully. "Thank you, ma’am. We’ll take a few for the road. We’re heading into the city to sell some goods."

The woman’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. "Vendors, are you? What goods do you sell?"

Tomioka stepped in smoothly, his voice calm and composed. "Rare herbs and medicinal supplies. We’ve traveled far to bring them here."

"Ah, I see," the woman nodded, clearly satisfied with the explanation. "The city could use more of those with all the trouble it’s been having lately. Stay safe out there, won’t you?"

Y/N nodded, giving the woman a polite bow as she took the parcels of food. "We will. Thank you again."

With their new attire and provisions in hand, they made their way to another part of the market where carriages were for sale. Among them was a modest yet sturdy carriage, the kind once used by traveling merchants in older times. It was simple, crafted from dark wood with intricate carvings along the edges, the wheels well-worn but still reliable. It looked just inconspicuous enough to avoid drawing attention.

“This one will do,” Giyuu said, inspecting the carriage. He handed over a few small bags racked with coins to the merchant, who nodded in approval before stepping aside to allow them to take it.

As they secured the carriage, Y/N felt a strange mixture of anticipation and nerves. This mission was unlike any she had faced before, requiring not just strength and skill but cunning and adaptability. She glanced at Tomioka, who was adjusting the straps on the horse’s bridle with practiced ease. His demeanor remained as cool and collected as ever, though she could sense a subtle tension in his movements.

As they climbed into the carriage, Y/N couldn’t resist another attempt at conversation, hoping to lighten the mood. “You know,” she began, her tone casual as she settled beside him, “this is the first time I’ve ever posed as a vendor. I suppose it’s just another skill I’ll have to master as a Hashira.”

Tomioka didn’t reply immediately, his eyes focused on the road ahead as he guided the horse forward. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady. “It’s part of the job. We adapt to the situation.”

“True enough,” the young girl agreed, though she couldn’t help but smile at his straightforwardness. “Still, I hope my sales pitch is convincing enough.”

They continued in relative silence after that, the city growing closer with every passing moment. The air became thicker with the sounds of city life—people calling out to each other, the creak of wooden wheels on cobblestone streets, and the distant clanging of metal from a blacksmith’s forge.

Y/N leaned back slightly, observing the growing activity as they neared the city gates. The massive wooden doors stood tall and imposing, flanked by stern guards in traditional uniforms. Their eyes were sharp, scanning each person and cart that passed through with meticulous attention to detail.

As they approached the entrance, Y/N’s senses heightened as she prepared for any sign of trouble. The guards glanced at their carriage, eyes lingering on the goods piled neatly in the back—bundles of herbs, sacks of rice, and crates of dried medicinal plants that Y/N had carefully arranged to complete their disguise.

The lead guard, a tall man with a weathered face, stepped forward, his gaze narrowing slightly as he addressed them. “State your business.”

Tomioka responded without missing a beat, his tone calm and even. “We’re vendors, bringing in supplies for the city. Rare herbs and medicines.”

The guard’s eyes flicked between them, taking in their attire and the carriage. After a tense moment, he nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Be quick about your business,” he said gruffly. “And don’t cause any trouble.”

“Of course,” Y/N replied politely, offering a small smile. “Thank you.”

With that, the guards stepped aside, allowing them to pass through the gates and into the heart of the city. The streets inside were narrow and bustling, filled with people hurrying about their daily lives, oblivious to the dark presence lurking in the shadows.

As they moved deeper into the city, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled over her. The destruction caused by the demon was evident in the occasional collapsed building, the air still thick with the scent of smoke and dust. But beneath it all, there was a sense of determination—a resolve among the people to rebuild and carry on, despite the danger that lurked just beyond their sight.

The carriage rattled slightly as they navigated the uneven streets, Y/N’s thoughts racing as they neared their destination. The demon was out there somewhere, hidden among the throngs of people, waiting to strike again. And when it did, they would be ready.

~

As they ventured deeper into the city, the bustling streets began to shift from the vibrant morning markets to the quieter, shadowed alleys of the older districts. The difference was palpable—the energy was subdued, the people more cautious as they moved about their business. The city itself seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for something to happen.

Tomioka guided their carriage with practiced ease, maneuvering it through the winding roads as the young girl kept a careful watch on their surroundings. They had successfully maintained their cover as traveling vendors, moving with the flow of the city without drawing undue attention. Their simple attire, combined with the unassuming nature of their carriage, allowed them to blend in seamlessly. Even the guards, alert as they were, had paid them little mind.

But beneath the surface, Y/N could feel the tension building, like the low rumble of distant thunder. The city was teetering on the edge, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to tip it over.

As they made their way through one of the older, more worn neighborhoods, she noticed a shift in the air. The buildings here were older, their wooden beams weathered and sagging slightly with age. The streets were narrower, the shadows longer, and the faces of the people they passed were lined with worry and suspicion. There was a sense of unease that clung to the area, as if something dark and sinister lurked just beneath the surface.

Y/N leaned slightly out of the carriage, scanning the surroundings. Her gaze fell on a group of men gathered near the entrance of a small, nondescript building. The structure was old, its wooden walls faded and splintered, but there was something about it that caught her attention. The men seemed tense, their conversation hushed and hurried, as if they didn’t want to be overheard.

She turned to Tomioka, lowering her voice to avoid drawing attention. “That building over there… it seems like something’s off. Those men—did you see the way they’re talking? It’s like they’re afraid of being seen.”

Tomioka glanced in the direction she indicated, his expression unreadable. “Let’s keep moving. We need more information before we act.”

The young girl nodded, understanding the caution in his words. They couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not when the stakes were so high. The demon they were hunting was cunning and dangerous, capable of wreaking havoc with its explosive blood demon art. They needed to gather as much intel as possible before making their move.

As they continued to weave through the city’s backstreets, she began to pick up on the subtle signs of the demon’s presence. There were whispers among the townsfolk, rumors of strange occurrences and unexplained disappearances. The closer they got to the heart of the old district, the more frequent these murmurs became.

It wasn’t long before they came across a small tea shop, its entrance nestled between two narrow alleys. The sign above the door was faded, the paint peeling, but the scent of freshly brewed tea wafted invitingly from within. The girl nudged Tomioka, and they pulled the carriage to a stop.

“Let’s go inside,” Y/N suggested. “We might hear something useful.”

Tomioka gave a slight nod in agreement, and they both dismounted from the carriage, securing it at the side of the street before entering the tea shop.

Inside, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the tense streets outside. The air was warm and fragrant, filled with the comforting aroma of tea and herbs. The shop was small, with a few low tables scattered around the room, each accompanied by cushions for seating. The walls were lined with shelves, stocked with jars of loose-leaf tea and various dried flowers and spices.

The shopkeeper, an elderly man with a kindly face and a hunch to his back, greeted them with a polite bow. “Welcome, travelers. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Y/N and Tomioka exchanged a glance before taking a seat at one of the tables near the back of the shop. The low murmur of conversation filled the room, blending with the soft clinking of tea cups and the rustle of fabric as patrons adjusted their seats. It was the perfect setting for eavesdropping without raising suspicion.

They ordered a pot of tea, and as they waited for it to arrive, the young lady allowed her gaze to wander, taking in the details of the room. The patrons were mostly locals—men and women dressed in simple attire, their faces etched with the weariness of city life. But there was an underlying tension in the air, a quiet unease that hung over the room like a shroud.

As the shopkeeper brought their tea, Y/N overheard a conversation at a nearby table. Two men, hunched over their cups, were speaking in low, urgent tones.

“It’s been happening more and more often,” one of the men was saying, his voice barely above a whisper. “Young men, disappearing without a trace. My cousin’s son—he went out to gamble a few nights ago, and he hasn’t been seen since.”

The other man nodded grimly. “It’s that place, I tell you. The old gambling house on the edge of the district. Everyone who goes there ends up vanishing. It used to be crowded every night, but now… now people are too afraid to go.”

Y/N’s interest piqued, and she exchanged a quick glance with Tomioka. This was exactly the kind of information they had been looking for.

“Have you heard what’s been happening there?” the first man continued, his voice shaking slightly. “Some say it’s cursed. Others think it’s something worse. People are talking about… demons.”

The second man shivered. “I don’t want to believe it, but after what I’ve heard… there’s no other explanation. The place is cursed. And the authorities—they won’t do anything. They don’t want to admit there’s something they can’t control.”

Y/N’s senses sharpened. This had to be the demon’s lair—the gambling house where people were disappearing. And the fact that it was only open at night made it all the more suspicious. The demon had been preying on the city’s vulnerable, drawing in the unsuspecting with the lure of easy money and then destroying them with its explosive blood demon art.

She turned her attention back to Tomioka, her voice low and steady. “That’s our target. The gambling house. It’s only open at night, which means we’ll have to go in after dark.”

Tomioka nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “We’ll need to be careful. If the demon is as powerful as we suspect, we can’t afford to underestimate it. And we’ll have to avoid drawing the attention of the authorities—they’ll only complicate matters.”

The sun had dipped low in the sky by the time they exited the tea shop, the streets bathed in the golden light of early evening. The city was beginning to wind down, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to the quiet stillness of the night. But Y/N knew that in the shadows, the real danger was just beginning.

“We should head back to the carriage,” Tomioka said, his voice breaking through her thoughts. “We’ll need to prepare for tonight.

Y/N nodded, falling into step beside him as they made their way back through the winding streets. The anticipation of the coming battle thrummed through her veins, sharpening her senses and heightening her awareness. She was ready—ready to face whatever lay ahead, ready to prove herself as a Hashira.

As Y/N and Tomioka navigated the increasingly darkened streets, the shadows seemed to deepen around them. The city’s earlier vibrancy had been replaced by an unsettling stillness, save for the distant echo of closing shutters and the occasional murmur of worried voices. The air was thick with tension, and even the usual evening chatter had fallen silent.

They were nearing the heart of the older district when they encountered an elderly man outside a small, dimly lit restaurant. The man was struggling with the heavy wooden gates, his hands moving with the practiced ease of someone who had done this task countless times before. He looked up as they approached, his expression one of mild surprise.

“What are you two doing out at this hour?” the old man called out, his voice raspy but tinged with genuine concern. “It’s dangerous to be traveling so late.”

Before the girl and her companion could respond, a loud, echoing clang reverberated through the city—the unmistakable sound of the city’s bells, their tolling signaling the start of a mandatory curfew. The old man frowned deeply, his gaze shifting to the distant sound.

“That’ll be the curfew,” he muttered, more to himself than to them. “They’ve been ringing those bells every night for the past week. Can’t say I blame them, not with those bombings happening.”

Y/N exchanged a quick glance with her companion, her brow furrowing slightly. The bombings, as the man called them, were undoubtedly the work of the demon they were hunting. But they couldn’t let on that they knew more than they should.

The old man turned back to them, his gaze shrewd. “What are you two doing out past curfew, anyway? It’s not safe to be wandering around. You’d better stay with us for the night. My wife will be happy to have some company.”

Y/N quickly shook her head, smiling politely. “Thank you for the offer, but we couldn’t impose. We’ll be fine.”

The old man raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “Oh? And why is it so important that you’re out and about so late? You wouldn’t be one of those bombers, now would you?” He chuckled, clearly intending the question as a joke, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his tone.

Y/N and Giyuu both stiffened, though they tried to keep their reactions subtle. The last thing they needed was to raise suspicion in a city already on edge. Y/N quickly forced a light laugh, though it sounded a bit strained even to her own ears.

“Of course not!” she replied, her tone lighthearted. “We’re just travelers, but we’ve clearly underestimated the curfew situation here.”

The old man squinted at them, then sighed, seemingly satisfied with her answer. “Well, curfew’s curfew. No use risking it. You’ll stay with us tonight. We’ve got a little guest room that’ll do just fine.”

Before either Y/N or Giyuu could protest further, the old man gestured for them to follow him. Realizing it would be more suspicious to refuse, they reluctantly agreed, following him through the narrow alleyway that led to a small, modest home tucked away behind the restaurant.

As they stepped inside, they were greeted by the warm, comforting smell of a home-cooked meal, the soft light from a single lantern casting a gentle glow over the room. The old man’s wife, a kind-looking woman with graying hair and a welcoming smile, looked up from the table where she was setting down bowls of steaming food.

“Who do we have here, dear?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Just a couple of travelers caught out after curfew,” the old man explained. “I told them they could stay the night.”

The woman’s eyes sparkled with warmth as she approached Y/N and Giyuu. “Welcome, welcome! It’s not often we get guests around here these days. You’re welcome to make yourselves at home.”

Y/N bowed her head in gratitude. “Thank you so much. We really appreciate your hospitality.”

As the old woman ushered them to sit at the table, the old man glanced between Y/N and Giyuu, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “A young couple traveling together, hmm? How romantic!”

Y/N felt herself get flustered at the implication, her eyes darting to Giyuu, who remained impassive, his expression unreadable. But she couldn’t help but notice the slight tensing of his jaw.

“We’re not—” The young girl began to protest, but the old man cut her off with a hearty laugh.

“Ah, no need to be shy!” he teased. “It’s good to see young love, even in times like these.”

Y/N felt her embarrassment deepen, but she forced a smile, trying to play along. “It’s nothing like that.”

Giyuu, for his part, simply nodded politely, clearly not interested in correcting the old man’s assumption. Y/N couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or simply indifferent, but she decided not to push it. There were more important things to focus on.

The old couple continued to chat with them as they ate, their conversation light and filled with stories of the city’s past. Y/N found herself relaxing slightly in their presence, though she never let her guard down completely. The night was still young, and the mission ahead was fraught with danger.

As the meal drew to a close, the old woman showed them to the small guest room at the back of the house. It was modest, with just a single futon and a small window that looked out onto the quiet street. Y/N thanked her again before the couple left them alone.

As soon as the door closed, Y/N let out a soft sigh, finally allowing herself to relax for a moment. She glanced over at Giyuu, who was already checking the room, his movements precise and efficient.

The young slayer let out a soft sigh, settling onto the futon. “Looks like we’re stuck here until morning,” she murmured, trying to mask her frustration.

But her partner shook his head, his gaze sharp. “We’re not waiting until morning. We’ll sneak out and head to the gambling house.”

Y/N blinked. “Won’t that make it more suspicious to the elder couple? If they find out we’re gone…”

“They won’t,” Giyuu interrupted, his voice calm and steady. “We’ll be back before dawn. We just have to be fast and kill the demon before then.”

The young lady hesitated for only a moment before nodding. There was no time to waste. Silently, they both rose, moving with the practiced ease of seasoned warriors. Their Hashira training made slipping out of the house without a sound effortless. In moments, they were outside, the cool night air brushing against their skin as they retrieved their swords, leaving their uniforms behind to maintain their cover.

They moved quickly, their feet barely touching the ground as they sped across the rooftops, silent as shadows. The city below was eerily quiet, the curfew keeping the streets deserted. But the stillness only heightened their senses, every noise and movement scrutinized as they made their way toward the gambling house.

The building came into view, its dimly lit entrance and faded signage a stark contrast to the bustling nightlife it once hosted. Y/N and Tomioka paused on the roof opposite, taking a moment to observe. The house was old, its wooden structure creaking in the night, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible hum of activity inside. This was their target’s lair.

With a silent nod to each other, they descended, landing lightly at the entrance. They adjusted their disguises, ensuring they looked the part of weary travelers seeking some entertainment before stepping inside.

Both of the slayers stepped through the weathered doors of the gambling house, and immediately, the atmosphere shifted. Despite the eerie quiet that had fallen over the city outside, the interior was alive with activity. The room was spacious, adorned with the warm glow of red lanterns that cast an almost dreamlike hue over the polished wooden floors and tatami mats. The scent of incense mingled with the sharp odor of alcohol, creating a heady mixture that clung to the air.

The gambling house was a stark contrast to the desolate streets outside, bustling with energy and life. Men, mostly young and brash, crowded around low tables where dice were cast, and cards were shuffled with quick, practiced hands. Their laughter and voices mingled into a loud, chaotic symphony that filled the room. It was clear that these were the city’s youth, wasting their nights and money in a desperate bid to stave off the darkness outside.

Scattered among them were a few women, their vibrant kimonos and painted faces a sharp contrast to the men’s worn attire. But it was the men who dominated the space, their flushed faces and drunken grins evidence of too much sake and too little sense.

As they both entered, their presence immediately drew attention. Y/N felt eyes on her, a few of the young men leering openly as she passed. The attention made her uncomfortable, the leers and whispered comments causing her to stiffen. A group of particularly bold men, their breath heavy with alcohol, stumbled forward, one of them reaching out as if to touch her.

“Oi, pretty lady! Why don’t you join us?” one of them slurred, his words barely coherent.

The girl’s discomfort was quickly replaced by a flash of irritation, but before she could respond, Giyuu stepped forward. His presence, usually so quiet and unobtrusive, suddenly became imposing. The cold, sharp look in his eyes was enough to send a chill down the spine of the drunken men.

“Back off,” Giyuu said, his voice low and deadly serious.

The men hesitated, the alcohol clouding their judgment for only a moment longer before they seemed to recognize the threat standing before them. They quickly backed away, muttering apologies as they slunk back to their games, their bravado fading under Tomioka’s sharp gaze.

Y/N shot Tomioka a grateful glance, though he only nodded slightly in acknowledgment before they continued deeper into the gambling house. They both knew better than to let their guard down; the demon was somewhere in this lively, chaotic mess.

They moved through the crowd, carefully scanning the faces of the gamblers and patrons, searching for any sign of the demon’s presence. The noise of the room seemed to pulse around them, but both Y/N and her companion on this mission remained focused, every sense alert.

As they navigated the maze of tables and bustling bodies, they began to subtly separate, each taking a different path through the room. Y/N’s eyes darted from face to face, noting the shadows and angles, the way the red lanterns flickered and played tricks with the light. She knew the demon could be anyone here—hiding in plain sight, blending into the chaos.

Tomioka, on the other side of the room, was just as vigilant, his movements precise and controlled as he examined the scene. They moved like two predators in the night, their senses tuned to the slightest anomaly, the smallest hint that their prey was near.

The girl moved quietly through the winding hallways of the gambling house, her senses alert despite the lively atmosphere just beyond the walls. The further they ventured, the dimmer the lights became, the noise of the main room fading into a distant hum. Eventually, she reached a door slightly ajar, revealing what appeared to be an office space. Papers were strewn across a low desk, and the room smelled faintly of ink and tobacco. This must be where the business side of the gambling house was managed.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room for anything out of the ordinary. But before she could investigate further, the hair on the back of her neck prickled—an instinctual warning honed by years of fighting demons. They turned just in time to see a man step into the doorway, his presence eerily quiet, almost unnatural in its suddenness.

The slayer’s suspicion flared, but she forced herself to stay calm, masking her unease with a friendly demeanor. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, her tone light, as if she hadn’t just been caught snooping around. “I was looking for the owner of this lively place. I’m hoping to discuss some business opportunities.”

The man, who was tall and thin with an unnervingly placid expression, watched her for a moment too long before finally speaking. “The owner? That would be me,” he said, his voice smooth but carrying an undercurrent of something darker. “I’m the one in charge of this establishment.”

“Ah, perfect timing then. I was hoping to discuss a partnership, perhaps an investment opportunity.”

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still unreadable. “Why don’t we discuss this somewhere more private?” He gestured for her to follow, leading her deeper into the building.

The corridor they entered was poorly lit, the shadows thickening as they walked further from the main hall.

Y/N kept her pace measured, though every step heightened her wariness.

Finally, they reached a small room at the end of the corridor. The man held the door open for her, his smile never reaching his eyes. “After you,” he said, his voice dripping with false politeness.

Y/N entered the room, taking in the sparse furnishings and the flickering candle that offered the only light. She turned to face the man, her muscles tensing as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Before she could react, the man’s demeanor shifted, his hand reaching out to touch her arm. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and oily, “I think we could work something out… something a bit more intimate.”

Y/N’s eyes darkened with anger. In one swift movement, she gripped his hand and twisted, throwing him across the room with a force that belied her slender frame. The man hit the wall with a dull thud, his body crumpling to the floor. But before she could make another move, she felt a presence behind her—silent, predatory.

A cold hand clamped around her wrist, pulling her back with unnatural strength. Y/N spun, coming face to face with the demon. Its eyes gleamed in the dim light, a twisted smile spreading across its face as it realized she had caught on to its identity.

“So, you’ve figured it out,” the demon hissed, its voice now a low, mocking growl.

The girl didn’t waste a second. She wrenched her wrist free, the demon’s grip surprisingly strong, and dashed toward the door. The demon snarled, lashing out with a speed that barely gave her time to dodge. Its attack missed her by inches, smashing into the wall and sending splinters of wood flying through the air. The sheer force of the strike confirmed what Y/N had suspected—this demon possessed a devastating explosive power that had likely caused the destruction in the city.

Y/N’s heart raced as she bolted from the room, her one goal to retrieve her sword, which she had left outside to avoid raising suspicion. Without it, she couldn’t decapitate the demon, and any fight would be futile.

Behind her, the demon’s footsteps echoed through the corridor, its fury palpable as it gave chase. Y/N darted through the hallways, her mind racing as she tried to recall the path back to the exit. The demon was close behind, its anger manifesting in bursts of raw, destructive energy that splintered the walls around her.

Finally, she spotted the exit, the faint light of the street just beyond the door. She burst through it, her lungs burning as she sprinted toward where she had stashed her sword. The demon’s rage was palpable, and she could hear it tearing through the building, its frustration growing as she evaded its grasp.

Y/N reached the spot where her sword lay hidden, her fingers closing around the familiar hilt. She spun around, her eyes locking onto the demon as it burst from the doorway, its form twisted with fury.

Y/N's grip tightened on her sword as she faced the demon, its eyes burning with fury as it charged at her with reckless abandon. She could feel the weight of the city behind her, the lives of countless innocents depending on her and Giyuu to stop this creature before it unleashed more destruction.

The demon's claws slashed through the air, but Y/ N was faster. She sidestepped, her movements precise and fluid, and retaliated with a quick slash aimed at the demon's torso. The demon twisted to avoid the strike, but not fast enough—her blade grazed its side, drawing black blood.

Just as the demon snarled in pain, Giyuu appeared from the shadows, his movements as smooth as water. He caught YIN's eye, and in that brief exchange, they communicated wordlessly, forming a plan. They had to corner the demon, keep it from using its explosive power to destroy the city or harm any of the civilians nearby.

Giyuu moved first, his sword flowing with the grace of a river as he executed Water Breathing: Seventh Form - Drop Ripple Thrust, Curve. His attack was perfectly timed, aimed to force the demon back toward Y/N. The demon recoiled from the strike, barely managing to avoid the sharp edge of Giyuu's blade, only to find itself trapped between the two Hashira.

With the demon momentarily disoriented, Y/N unleashed her own technique, her blade glowing with a deep crimson hue. "Blood Breathing: Second Form - Scarlet Mirage!" she called out, her sword slicing through the air.

The technique created a series of rapid, blood-red slashes that blurred before the demon's eyes, disorienting it further as it tried to keep track of her movements.

The demon snarled in frustration, its claws digging into the ground as it prepared to unleash another powerful attack.

But Tomioka was ready, his stance calm and unyielding as he drew on his own strength. With a swift motion, he performed Water Breathing: Fourth Form - Striking Tide, a series of flowing, consecutive strikes that aimed to contain the demon, minimizing its ability to unleash any explosive damage.

Y/N followed up immediately, her movements a dance of deadly precision. She darted in, her sword glinting in the dim light as she executed her next move. "Blood Breathing: Fifth Form - Crimson Bloom!" Her blade moved in a spiraling motion, leaving a trail of blood-red energy in its wake as it closed in on the demon's vulnerable neck.

The demon, now fully cornered, lashed out in desperation, but Tomioka and his companion moved in perfect synchrony.

Giyuu deflected the demon's claws with a final Water Breathing: Second Form - Water Wheel, while the girl closed in for the kill. In one swift motion, she brought her sword down, her blade severing the demon's head cleanly from its body.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause.

The demon's body crumpled to the ground, its head rolling away before disintegrating into ash. The city around them was eerily quiet, the only sound the distant echoes of the citizens who had no idea how close they had come to disaster.

The young girl stood still, her breath steady as she sheathed her sword, not a scratch on her. Glyuu did the same, his eyes meeting hers in a silent acknowledgment of their success. Despite their different styles, their teamwork had been flawless.

As the demon's ashes scattered into the night, they both knew that the city was safe-for now.

The mission was complete.

As the last echoes of the battle faded, the quiet night of the city was abruptly broken. Doors creaked open, and footsteps shuffled out onto the streets. Citizens, startled and bewildered, emerged from their homes and gambling dens, shaking off the stupor of drink and confusion.

Their eyes widened as they took in the scene—the lingering traces of demon blood on the streets, the slight tremor of destroyed wood and stone where the demon had unleashed its explosive demon art, though thankfully contained by Giyuu's swift intervention.

The once-rowdy gambling den had gone silent, save for the murmurs of the shaken gamblers. The few sober enough to comprehend the chaos looked around in bewilderment, while the drunk ones tried to piece together the fragments of their shattered night.

Faces, once flushed with the thrill of betting, now turned pale as the reality of what had transpired dawned upon them.

The city bells rang out, louder and more frantic than before, signaling a call to arms. The authorities, alerted by the noise and the tremors, were swiftly mobilizing.

The distant clatter of armor and the shouts of orders echoed through the streets as the police prepared to investigate the disturbance.

Sensing the urgency of the situation, Y/N and Giyuu exchanged a brief glance. There was no time to waste. They moved in unison, slipping away from the scene with the fluidity and speed that only Hashira possessed.

In a matter of moments, they were mere shadows in the night, their presence erased from the minds of those who had witnessed the chaos.

With practiced ease, they navigated the rooftops and narrow alleys, making their way back to the old man's house. Their movements were silent, a stark contrast to the earlier commotion. As they approached the house, they ensured that not a single sound betrayed their arrival. The night, once again, fell into an eerie stillness.

Inside the old man's house, the warmth and coziness of the modest home provided a stark contrast to the cold, tension-filled night outside. Y/N and Giyuu settled into the small room they had been given, the weight of their recent mission still lingering in the air. Though they were far from physically exhausted, the social toll of the evening was evident. Their energy was spent, not from battle, but from the constant vigilance and unspoken understanding that had passed between them during the fight.

As the night deepened and the quiet of the house settled in, the realization dawned on both Y/N and Giyuu that there was only one bed available for them to rest in.

Giyuu, ever vigilant, immediately offered to stay on guard for the night, insisting that he wasn't tired. Y/N, equally drained but not in the physical sense, suggested they could take turns or, better yet, she could keep watch.

"You should rest," she urged softly, noting the slight tension in Tomioka’s posture. "I’m not tired either, and I can manage a few hours on watch."

“…I’m fine," he finally responded, his voice even but firm.

The young girl sensing his resolve, didn't press further but instead moved closer to the small light that flickered in the room, trying to dispel the lingering tension. She didn't want to force him, yet she knew he needed rest, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

As she considered what to do next, her eyes caught a glimpse of something unusual—a small, charred spot on the sleeve of Giyuu’s haori, where the fabric had been slightly burnt away.

"You're hurt," Y/N said, her voice soft but insistent as she reached out to touch his arm gently.

Giyuu looked down, as if only just realizing the injury. "It's nothing," he murmured, brushing it off as unimportant.

Y/N, however, was not so easily swayed. "Let me help." Her tone left no room for argument as she moved closer, her fingers gently tracing the burnt edges of the fabric. She had noticed the burn earlier, but now that they were in a moment of quiet, she couldn’t let it go untreated.

Before Giyuu could protest, Y/N summoned her blood breathing, her hand glowing with a soft crimson light as she focused her energy on healing the burn. The blood cells within the wound responded to her control, rapidly mending the damaged tissue.

As the burn slowly faded, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the closeness between them—his steady breathing, the warmth of his skin under her touch, the way the dim light seemed to soften his usually stoic expression.

Giyuu’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched her work, the tension between them palpable in the quiet room. Y/N felt it too, a strange mix of emotions that she couldn’t quite name. The silence stretched out, filled only with the soft sound of her breathing and the gentle hum of her technique.

Finally, the wound was healed, and Y/N withdrew her hand, the glow fading from her fingers. "There," she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "That should do it."

Giyuu's gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment longer before he spoke, his voice low and curious. "How can you do that?"

Y/N looked at him, her expression softening as she considered how to explain it. "It’s a bit complicated," she admitted, sitting down beside him. "My blood breathing… it actually stems from water breathing."

Tomioka’s eyebrows raised slightly. "Water breathing?" he echoed, the connection between their techniques piquing his interest.

She nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I never mastered water breathing the way you have," she said, her tone warm with genuine admiration. "You’re incredible with it, Mr. Tomioka. Your technique is flawless, so fluid and powerful. I always aspired to reach that level, but I could never quite get there."

Giyuu remained silent, listening intently as she continued.

"One day, during a battle," she continued, her voice growing quieter as she recalled the memory, "I was losing… badly. I was injured, bleeding more than I could handle. I thought it was the end, but then… something changed. I felt this surge of power, of control, and in a desperate moment, I used my blood to attack. It was like water—fluid, adaptable—but it was mine, born from my own desperation and will to survive. That's how I created blood breathing."

She paused, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the healed wound on his arm.

"It wasn’t easy, though. Manipulating my blood, and sometimes even others' blood, takes a toll. It drains a lot of my energy, and it has some pretty nasty aftereffects. But… it can be useful, like for healing minor injuries."

“it’s impressive," he finally said, his voice carrying a hint of something deeper, perhaps respect or understanding. "You found a way to survive, and you turned it into something powerful."

Y/N’s smile widened, a touch of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you," she replied softly. "But it comes with a price. After using it, I need time to recover. That’s why I try not to rely on it too much, unless I really have to."

Giyuu nodded, his gaze shifting to the quiet night outside. "Still, it’s a gift," he said, almost as if to himself. "And you’re using it to protect others. That’s what matters."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her at his words, however she couldn’t help noticing the spark or sadness reflected on Tomioka’s eyes as he said those words to her. There was something about the way he spoke—quiet, measured, but with a hint of there being more to him—that resonated with her. For a moment, the weight of the world outside their small room seemed to lift, leaving only the two of them in the peaceful silence.

"Maybe," Y/N mused, "that’s why we’re here together. Water and blood, they’re not so different, are they?"

As Y/N had finished healing the burn on Giyuu's arm, she found herself tracing the lines of his hand absentmindedly. Her fingers lingered on his skin, even though the wound had already closed, the flesh now smooth and unmarked. It was a simple, thoughtless action—a way to ensure her work was complete, but one that neither of them expected.

Tomioka had yet to notice it at first. But when he felt her fingers softly brushing against his hand once again, he snapped back to reality. His gaze shifted to their hands, the unexpected touch jarring him from his thoughts.

Without hesitation, he pulled his hand back sharply, the motion sudden and definitive. The connection between them—whatever it was—was severed as quickly as it had formed.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone neutral and controlled. “You should rest now. I’ll stay on guard.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by his abruptness. The shift in his demeanor was like a bucket of cold water, and she quickly withdrew her own hand. She nodded, trying to suppress the slight embarrassment creeping in. “I…Alright.”

His words were final, leaving no room for further discussion. Therefore, Y/N swallowed and simply went along, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. She had crossed a line, let herself relax too much around someone she barely knew.

She turned away from him, lying down on the bed with her back facing him. The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with the unspoken awkwardness of their interaction.

As Y/N lay there, she tried to push away the discomfort gnawing at her. The presence of Tomioka behind her, though calm and collected, felt distant—an unfamiliar presence that only added to the tension. It was clear they were both here for the mission, nothing more, and she had to remind herself of that. There was no need for unnecessary familiarity.

Focusing on her breathing, she tried to will herself to sleep, forcing her mind to quiet down. There was no point in dwelling on what had happened. They were both professionals, after all, and this was just another step in their shared duty.

To be continued….

a/n: hope y’all enjoy!!!!! take care of yourselves <3

[bcolfanfic]

If you're still accepting young vets au requests - would you be up for exploring more of how they fell in love when they were in the service? Did Buck have a Marge at home? Were they both 'out'? etc etc

Thanks!

standard disclaimer that i am not an expert on the us air force or the afghanistan war- ive done a little research so i have a basic grasp on things but not much. i know because my brother was in iraq that he wasn't just gone for years at a time like the 100th was in wwii which makes this is a littttleee more complicated. but here goes.

in my mind, they enlisted at around the same time and met in basic.

and then after basic they both got sent to the same tech school in texas. this is where bucky did his EOD training stuff. in my head gale's "outside of flying thing" was security forces.

they became fast friends in basic, and then only got closer when they got to texas. maybe gale was originally going to get sent to a different base for tech school, and poor bucky was quite bummed about that!

but then things got moved around and how happy he was that gale *would* be going with to texas made him a little hmmm. maybe this is something i should unpack! not now though!

samesies for gale. he's excited that he gets to go to texas with his buddy. if there's something nagging at the back of his mind about why exactly he's so excited, he ignores it.

according to the internet the dorms are 3 ppl per, so maybe that's where they meet curt and become buddies with him.

gale and bucky start getting closer and well, curt is gay too. he has the spidey senses.

but poor gale and bucky are uh not as in touch with their sexuality and about jump out of their skin when curt ribs them a little saying if they ever want some SpAcE they can tell him to scram.

i don't think it really goes much farther, conversation wise or otherwise, till they're overseas.

esp bc bucky has to finish his EOD training in florida so he does have to, much to his chagrin, leave gale for a bit. they stay in touch, which is much easier with today's technology, but in my head this is when gale and curt get quite close.

gale does have a girl at home, but he breaks up with her in the ten day leave between tech school and leaving the country.

he tells her it's because things are really volatile and she's a good girl who he doesn't want to force to wait around for him.

which isn't a lie per say. but if he leaves out that the more late night talks with curt he has the more he thinks he might be gay well. that's his own secret.

the buckys meet again at their first deployment. in my head its not straight to afghanistan (though maybe for curt it is) and they're in africa first.

very sweet reunion- they missed each other. and now looking at his face on the other side of all those late night talks with curt, gale is *really* like oh. oh.

one night not long after they get to africa they're talking and gale tells him he broke up with his girl. bucky is a little surprised and when he prods gale gets a nervous and just blurts out that he thinks he might be gay.

bucky, though he's a little scared by labels, has been involved with people uh ~across genders~, so he tries to make him feel less nerved out about it. tells him its nothing to be ashamed of etc etc. and then question of the hour, can i ask what the 1+1=2 here was y'know?

sweet gale just looks at him all wide eyed. and bucky knows, knew before he asked him the question.

*fade to black*

[thewritingstar]

Pls do a story of bc and butch with kinda nsfw🙏💕

Merry Christmas! I hope all of you had a wonderful holidays and hope the new year treats you all well. This might be the only fic I posted this year (ik ik) but for some reason when I saw this ask, my fingers danced across the keyboard and I didn't think twice about things. It felt freeing and fresh and I haven't written like this in such a long time, I had almost forgotten that I could.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. I will say it is very slight nsfw, I may not even consider it that either. But this is where my mind took me. I was looking at a more fluffy approach to their relationship so I do hope you like it. (if its not what you had in mind, send in another request)

I hope everyone enjoys reading this and I hope I can continue to post more next year because I do love writing. Requests are always open :)

Rating: T (some sexual themes implied)

--

Hummingbird Heartbeat

Adrenaline, it makes you do crazy things.

It was one of her favorite things. Doing crazy things to get that sensation that ices over your body and your heart pounding. It was rare that her hands would get sweaty from anticipation or that her heart beat a little too fast. However, she tried anything to get that feeling.

Maybe she was a junkie for it. Maybe it wasn't that healthy to want to feel that way. It wasn't like she wanted it constantly, but when you can fly and shoot lasers and see the world in a different way, your standards become a little higher.

Rollercoasters were one that most people did. So Buttercup and her friends would fill up in Mitch's shitty van and go to the nearest theme parks to get that adrenaline coursing through their bodies. It was satisfying for a moment but she needed more.

Once Butch became part of their pack in high school, thats when it got good. They would race each other in the sky and throw chunks of buildings at each other. Sometimes they would fly up to the top of a skyscraper and free fall until they were an inch from the ground and see who would fly first.

They were always getting into dangerous situations but never involving their other friends because Buttercup might be fearless, but she wasn't stupid. Sometimes these things were just for the two of them.

But even when she would close her eyes and gravity would take hold of her, that anticipation still wouldn't get the smallest itch out of her system. She was afraid that she never would get that feeling.

She had told him of this stupid idea in her head about not getting to feel a rush beyond the usual. Perhaps it wasn't possible. He would listen and then suggest deep diving into the ocean or running though a fire. She said no to the latter.

Then one night in the summer after they had graduated, they went to the forest. They came here often enough that she had memorized a few of the trees wood patterns.

It was just the two of them. It was normal for them to hang out but lately she's been wanting it more. She loves her friends but there was something about being around someone who knew your mind before you've even spoken a word.

She thought it was gonna be one of those nights where they float above the trees and gossip about everything and nothing at all. It could be a serious talk night where they share their troubles and let them soar until they reach the stars.

When they got to their spot, Butch took out a bandana that had a dark green swirly pattern on it. Buttercup raised her eyebrows.

"What am I suppose to do with this?" She questioned.

He only laughed and approached her. He spun her around so she faced the trees and covered her eyes. His chest was against her back much closer than they had been before. His fingertips brushed some of her hair and he was gentle as he tied it.

"Fly." He whispered in her ear.

They say that your other senses get heightened once one is removed. Right now all she could focus on was the smell of his cologne. Pine and campfire, a slight smoke to him that she desperately tried not to take a deep breath to smell him better.

Her heart pounded when he told her to fly.

"I can't see." She whispered.

Why was she whispering? Why did she feel small when they were the only ones here?

She could feel his laugh on her neck.

"No shit. I'm gonna tell you where to go so you don't smack into a tree."

"Promise?"

She had never heard him so serious.

"I promise." He whispered to her.

Slowly her feet came off the ground. She wasn't as scared as she was worried. She didn't want to crash but the trees were so close to each other that she wasn't sure if flying through them with her sight would have her not have a scrape or two.

But instead of coming back down, she bolted into the trees. She could feel the wind in her hair and Butch calling behind her.

"Right! Left" Left! Right"

Even though she couldn't see, she didn't feel anything but the rush. Sometimes she would turn over or do a corkscrew and hear Butch laugh behind her. If a tree branch did hit her, she didn't feel it. She only felt alive.

"You're doing great, Doll!" She could hear his voice.

Doll. That was the nickname he had for her. It didn't suite her. Not like the other ones. Sugar for Bubbles was common for most people to use. It lost any sliver of endearment and Butch liked to called that usually when he was being sarcastic with her.

She once asked him why he called her doll but he only shrugged. He said something about not even realizing that he did it. She dropped it after but she noticed every time. She also would call him doll in spite of him, but he never seemed to mind.

Her heart picked up and she wasn't sure if it was the thought of connecting with a tree in a millisecond. So she kept going for a few more minutes until Butch told her to ease up and they came across a small clearing.

Her feet connected to the ground and she took off the blindfold with a smile.

"That was crazy!" She jumped up. It was definitely a rush she had craved. "I've never felt more alive!" She shouted to the open sky.

"See told you I wouldn't let you crash." He smiled as he join her on the earth.

Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through her and maybe it was a mix of emotions. Maybe it was the way the moonlight captured his face. Maybe it was the way her heart always seemed to beat around him. Maybe, just maybe, she craved something more.

And maybe she grabbed the front of his black shirt and yanked him until their lips smashed together. Maybe it was the way that he didn't hesitate for a single second and pulled her closer. Or maybe it was the way that when they pulled a part for a single second he whispered,

Finally, against her lips.

Somehow her back was against a tree and she didn't mind the slight roughness. Her hand found his hair and her legs found their way around his waist.

Sometimes she would lay in her bed and stare at the ceiling while her sisters were asleep and think about his eyes. How they were a dark velvety green but the light could capture them in a way that would make her lips part slightly. She would think about what would happened if she admitted something she didn't believe herself. She would mostly think about how it would be to kiss him.

She didn't wonder anymore.

It was warm and felt perfect. One of his hands stabilized him with the tree and the other held was holding her up at her ass. Ever so often his lips would turn up into a smirk when he gave a small squeeze and a noise she would never let anyone else hear except him would escape her.

They made out for a while and her hand slipped under his shirt and traced against his abs. She wanted more. She wanted this to not be some flimsy make out session in the woods where they would never speak about it again. She didn't want to go to college in the fall without her hand in his. She didn't want anything but him.

Because kissing him sent an electric pulse through her in a way it never has before. No amount of rollercoasters, free falling or daring each other to do dumb shit could give her this rush. Maybe her hormones were going ballistic and maybe it was the moment itself, but she could feel the world shift and the stars started to align. Perhaps thats too much but thats what it felt like. Perfection.

She liked the way his body molded to hers. A perfect fit like a puzzle piece. Yes it was clique but to think that someone was made especially for her but if she was honest, it was true. Who else got to say that some genius monkey decided to create your own personal destruction? Little did that monkey realize, he created all her desires.

Butch shifted until there was no space between them. Until the bulge in his pants was felt by her and grinding to a shaky rhythm. She wanted to ignore that feeling and focus on his lips, not because she didn't want to feel him, but because she could feel just how much there was of him. She was certain if they started anything else against this tree, they wouldn't stop till morning.

"Butch." She moaned into his mouth.

"Yeah?" He grunted and suddenly his hand was under her shirt and she shivered as she remembered she didn't wear a bra.

His lips found her neck and she's trying her best to remember what she was gonna say. The rush is too much in the best way possible. While he's busy making her blush and pant, her brain decides to remember it all.

"This isn't it, right?" She say between breaths.

He stops and looks at her. His pupils are blown wide and a sloppy smirk is on his face that he can't remove.

"Whats it?"

His fingers are still tracing her skin under her shirt.

"This." She points between each other and now she feels like an idiot for ruining the moment.

Of course he surprise her when he places a quick kiss against her lips. Its much softer and tended then before and its more gentle than anything.

"I hope not." He says. "Its okay if it is, if that what you want, but I'm not very good at lying to you so there's no point."

It was true. Butch could put on a performance for the cops or his dads, even his brothers to get out of trouble. But no matter how hard he tried, he could never keep anything from her. Not even when they were younger and hated each others guts. Blossom would grill the boys and they wouldn't budge but then they would locked eyes and his mouth would open.

She smiled. "Good, yeah thats good. I don't want this to be it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Her feet came back to the ground and she smooth her shirt as he fixed her hair.

"Its a shame you didn't bring your car." She said as they walked.

"Why would I bring my car if we can fly?" He questioned.

She decided that he looked cute, very cute, when he didn't pick up on things.

"Oh, no reason." She shrugged.

Oh.

Oh.

She saw his eyes widened and she could have sworn he blushed. Never thought she would see the day that Butch would get shy.

His hand rubbed the back of his neck.

"I just wasn't thinking about that."

"I know." She smiled. "Still, it would of been fun."

He shrugged. "I don't know. I mean yes it would because who wouldn't want that, but I'd like to have more room than the back of my car."

"Why you don't want me pressed up against the window? Or better, me on top of you until not even the air can get between us?" She teased and their fingers touched.

Butch held in a groan. No doubt the image was running through his mind. "Well when you put it like that."

Buttercup laughed and hit his arm. She then wrapped her arm around his bicep and tried to keep it together when she felt him flex. She felt giddy and light. It was weird. Usually she was tough and content with everything around her but the smile would not come off her face. Maybe this is what being Bubbles was like. Maybe she understood her sister more. Or maybe she was just in a haze from him.

They arrived at the entrance of the forest where they had started. It was well into the night and she held down a yawn. She didn't want to leave yet, she just wanted to stay and be held by him.

"I don't want to leave." Butch said. She liked that they were on the same page.

"Me either."

He turned and tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes.

"How about tomorrow I pick you up in my car and we go and get breakfast and see a shitty movie at the drive in at night?"

"Butch Jojo are you asking me out on a date?" Again with her teasing. They always teased each other and she hoped it was still okay if they were together.

"I guess so. But you will be paying if you want any of this and I'm not a cheap date." He gestured to his body.

She rolled her eyes and stood on her toes and flung her arms around his shoulders. She probably could have floated up to be at his eye level, but it felt more romantic this way.

"I'd pay anything for you." She said and kissed him again.

He pulled away and brushed her bangs from her eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow gorgeous." He said. "I'd fly you home but I'm scared of your sisters if they see me."

He was not joking.

She understood and she didn't want him to either. She didn't want anyone to know right now just because she just figured it out too. It was hers for a moment and she want to bask in it for a little.

He pressed one more quick kiss to her lips before letting her fly off into the night.

She arrived home to Bubbles passed out on her bed and Blossom sitting with a book with a small light on.

Buttercup said nothing as she kicked off her shoes and changed into her pajamas. She tried not to notice Blossoms stare on her but it was nearly impossible as she slid into her bed.

"Have a nice night?" Blossom asked as her book was set on her nightstand.

"Yep." Buttercup said she stared at her nails.

Buttercup made the mistake of looking up at her sister who stared at her with a knowing expression. Blossoms lips curled up into a smile.

"What?" Buttercup asked and she felt her heart pick up.

"Nothing, I'm just glad you had a good night."

"Oh, yeah. It was fun. Well good night."

"Night."

The sound of the lamp flicking off didn't have Buttercup close her eyes. Instead she stared at her ceiling where dim plastic stars glowed. Her smile still didn't leave as she replayed her night in her head and the possibilities of tomorrow.

She began to close her eyes and drift to sleep before she heard her older sister whisper,

"Your lipstick was smudged."

"Blossom not now-"

"Lipstick?" Bubbles voice cracked in the dark.

"All over her mouth like an animal with rabies." Blossom added.

"Oooo" Bubbles giggled.

"No, shut up." Buttercup threatened.

"You owe me five bucks Blossy."

"Five bucks!" Buttercup whined.

"Could of been ten if we got to Christmas." Blossom laughed.

"I hate both of you."

Bubbles giggled again. "Well we love you."

"So what time is he picking you up tomorrow?" Blossom asked smugly.

Now she wanted to throw her pillows at them. Buttercup flipped over on her side, back to her sisters to hide her blush even though they couldn't see her to begin with.

"Ten."

"Oooooooo." They both cooed at the same time.

"Go to bed!"

Her sisters laughter died down eventually just in time for Buttercup's phone to light up.

Sweet dreams, Doll

She had felt the rush of adrenaline thousands of times, yet right now, seeing that message, scratched the itch that she had craved for years.

-----

Thank you so much for reading!!! I appreciate you taking the time to read/ leave comments.

-Star

'

[irisxstardust]

1 | Shut Up

SUMMARY: You and Ellie used to be friends until one day when she decided she was done. You hadn't spoken to her since and now, five years later, you are given the unfortunate task of going on patrol with the girl. A little argument and one stalker later, you're playing her hero. But is it enough to repair the damage made to your relationship all those years ago?

A/N: wowzers. ive spent like two weeks going back and forth on this piece bc UGH i want to get into the cutie stuff but i like want that angst and slow burn yk. and i also want it to be good like this is my first real tumblr post and yall are such good writers ive got a lotta standards to meet. ugh pls tell me its not boring i dont want it to be boring since its not fluff. anyway there will be more but im not sure how fast ill be able to write it. i like really dk how many more parts i could make of this ngl like i just wanna make a happy amazing pt 2 where reader and ellie just like live happily ever after. also this is my first time writing in second person so pls give me grace if its bad lmfao. love you🫶🏻

CW: cursing, angst?/slow burn, fem!reader (she/her), CAT (🤮🤧😵‍💫)

WC: 3,688

You didn’t hate Ellie Williams, not in the slightest.

In fact, when you first met the girl you were impressed by her nonchalant attitude and how quickly she adjusted to life in Jackson. You admired the bond she shared with her companion, Joel - the closeness they shared, the softness of his voice when he spoke to her, the glint in her eyes when she looked at him. That didn’t mean you missed the way she stared off distantly in her free time, or the way she would talk to others with a certain tiredness in her voice; but it wasn’t like you could talk to her about it.

You weren’t friends with her. Well, not anymore.

Ellie and you were friends when she first arrived, you made sure of it. You were always bringing her things to make the adjustment easier: blankets, sweaters, new socks, ammunition, and a new hairbrush, among other things. She was grateful for it at first, always thanking you, hunting you down for movie nights, and inviting you over for dinner with Joel. But at some point you messed up - you did something wrong.

She slowly began to ignore you, she started returning your home-baked goods and stopped inviting you to her house to watch movies. She started to talk to you just as cold as she talked to the others. She didn’t like you anymore.

Eventually, probably tired of your haphazard attempts to fix your friendship, she snapped. You left her house in tears that day with your head down, shoulders hunched and wobbly, trying to cover the tear streaks with your hair.

Ever since you’d tried to ignore her, her words, and the wounds they made. It was hard when she consumed your every waking thought. You thought about Ellie all the time - what you did wrong, the way her hair bounced as she walked, what you said to make her hate you, that one time at dinner she accidentally choked on water and spit it out her nose, the look in her eyes as she yelled in your face, all of the science stuff she had hidden away in every crevice of her room.

Every thought you had about Ellie contradicted the other and it was all so confusing that every time you thought too hard about it your head spun.

So you quickly found yourself doing simple, menial tasks to keep your thoughts at bay. You were picking up every patrol you were allowed, volunteering at the daycare to help your mom care for the kiddos, spending any and all free time at your friends houses instead of yours. You always finished your house chores early in the morning, always walked your neighbors dog once before noon and once after, always doing whatever you could to stay out of your own mind.

So you forgot about Ellie - as best as you could, at least.

It almost worked, too. Five years you got away with it, hiding from your mind and from Ellie. Until today, the one day you had been dreading for years. The day you knew was coming.

You were partnered with Ellie for patrol.

At first, you'd spent the first three hours complaining to your friends - Jesse mostly ignored you, only cracking jokes here or there, and Dina just didn't understand why you hated Ellie so bad. Eventually you just gave in and stopped complaining, finding some solace under the heavy duvet on your bed.

Before Dina left your home she gave you a warm smile and said, "You're gonna do great." And then left you to your own devices, not realizing she was leaving you to rot in your own brain.

When the time came to get up and get ready, you found yourself picking through your clothes, trying to find the cleanest shirt to wear and the pants that fit you the best. You wanted to look nice, most people would, but you weren't sure if it was for you or for her.

You walked nervously towards the stables, taking firm, heavy breaths as you shoved your hands into your jacket pockets.

"It'll be okay... It'll be okay," you chanted the words under your breath as you neared the stables, clenching and unclenching your sweaty fists.

When you arrived, Ellie was already leading Shimmer along to the exit, hardly glancing at you.

"You're late." She said, sucking on her teeth.

You nodded slowly, inhaling sharply, "I am aware..." speaking slowly and cautiously, trying not to poke the bear. "I kind of have my own stuff, though," the pitch of your voice raised slightly, as if you were unsure of your own words, "so I got here as fast as I could."

She scoffed, her head shaking slightly which sends her short strands of hair bouncing around her ears. "Just get the fucking horse."

You walked off hastily, unfurling Japan's reigns - when Dina didn't take him out, you did, because you both liked to make sure he had enough exercise everyday. You walked him down to meet Ellie at the gate.

Ellie was standing on one foot, shifting her weight every now and then and rubbing her palms down the length of her thighs; almost as if she was rubbing something off of them. She rubbed her thumbs on Shimmer's reigns nervously, head darting back and forth to see if you were close or not.

When you came into her line of sight, she hardened up and stood taller. Her face sharpened and her eyes filled with the same distance that kept you up at night, though today they also harbored another emotion, one you were no longer privy with.

It filled you with a sense of confusion and dread, causing you to mumble incoherently under your breath.

"Fucking Williams... cold as shit... pain in my ass..." you muttered as you mounted your horse.

Giving you one last weary look, Ellie also mounted her horse. She pulled her fingers through her hair, tucking it back behind her ear as the two of you left Jackson.

The horses trotted slowly, easily stepping over the tree roots in the ground as if they had the whole route memorized.

For you, this was one of the few routes you hardly visited. It wasn't too far from Jackson, but it was just far enough that you knew it'd take up the rest of your day.

As your eyes danced between the trail ahead of you and Ellie beside you, you didn't know what to think.

Sure, you'd thought of all the ways you would yell at her and all the things you'd say if you ever got the chance again; but you'd also thought of all the ways you'd make it up to her, all the things you wanted to say to let her know you weren't the same person you used to be.

What did it matter, anyway?

You were stuck here, letting your old wounds sit and fester in the bitterness of it all. You were stuck here, next to her but unable to fill the empty silence with words. You were stuck here, on patrol with the one person who hates your guts and you couldn't do anything about it.

"It's not polite to stare, you know."

Her voice echoed through the dense trees, bouncing off branches and leaves only to worm its way back into your brain.

"I'm sorry?" you hummed, caught off guard by the sound.

Her head slightly turned in your direction and Shimmer slowed down to a light trot, matching Japan's speed. "It's not polite to stare."

Her words were much sharper the second time around, with much more emphasis placed upon them.

She's angry. Amazing. You scoffed to yourself, trying to keep hold of your composure.

"I wasn't staring..." you paused. You almost said her name, but the word caught in your throat. "At you. I wasn't staring at you."

She glanced at you sideways before she continued, "you were."

"Was not!"

"Were too."

"I wasn't staring-!"

There it was again. You'd almost said her name, but it got caught in the back of your throat, which left you to haphazardly cut off your sentence and leave her hanging, waiting for it.

She scoffed. "Yes, you were."

You closed your mouth and pressed your lips into a line, "I wasn't fucking staring at you, Williams."

"So you stare at me, deny it when I tell you it's impolite, and then can't even use my name?" She stopped her horse, leaning back in the saddle as she spoke.

And the words get caught in your throat. Your mouth dried as you slowed your own horse.

"I used your name," you whispered, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

She laughed sourly, pulled on Shimmer's reigns and began to trot ahead of you again.

You sighed at the bitterness brewing in the pit of your stomach. You certainly fucked that up - but was it entirely your fault? Surely some of that had to go to Ellie too - I mean she's the one who broke off your friendship... she's the one who yelled at you for "staring." You weren't staring in the first place... right?

You began to question yourself, yet again, as Ellie spoke up once more.

"You're still staring."

And suddenly it's almost as if you could hear the smirk she had on her face.

"Could you fucking not? Please? I'm just trying to get to the tower and go home alive. I don't want to deal with this bullshit too."

"Stop fucking staring then," she whipped around to face you. "I definitely didn't ask for this either, so stop being a baby and get over it."

You clenched your fists and brought one to your face, rubbing your eyes with your palm.

"I'm not staring at you, El-"

You stopped talking after you finally looked directly into her eyes, catching sight movement behind her.

She began to scoff but suddenly stopped as your face changed.

"What?"

"Shut up."

You tilted your head to the side, narrowing your eyes as you focused on a shadowy figure hidden in the trees.

The figure stilled under a long branch, the leaves creating long shadows which warped around the curves of the figure.

Slowly, you reached for the pistol strapped to your thigh. Ellie's face scrunched in a mix of confusion and worry.

"Don't," you breathed, "move."

At the sound of your sharp exhale the figure screeched and aimed for Ellie, its dark eyes fixated on her.

You brought the gun up, aiming and pulling the trigger as fast as you could, but the stalker was hardly affected by the single bullet.

Ellie whipped around, yelping once before the stalker jumped on her and yanked her off of Shimmer. The stalker pinned her to the ground, its teeth already bared and ready to bite.

You pulled the trigger again. And again. And again. Until eventually the stalker slumped down above Ellie.

She pushed it off and brought herself to her feet, head whipping around to look for others.

"Do you see any more?" you asked as you scanned the area.

She shook her head, "I don't think so... holy shit."

You both sat quietly for a moment as you tried to process what just happened.

"Thanks- thanks for uh, for that," she panted, mounting Shimmer again and looking around, "that was close."

For a moment you were rendered speechless, trying to piece the puzzle back together in your brain before responding. "Yeah... of course," you paused, adding lightly, "s'what friends do." It came out a little mumbled but you knew she heard it.

You didn't keep your eyes on hers long enough to gauge her reaction, but you figured it was one full of something negative. You looked up one last time and caught her eyes, the strangest look on her face, before turning back down and looking away.

"The tower's just up that way," you hesitated, waiting for her to say - or do - something. To do anything. But she didn't, so you continued, "there shouldn't be any more in the area, they just cleared it last week."

You shifted on the saddle, cringing slightly, urging Japan to move forward again.

The rest of your route went okay - you didn't encounter anymore infected and the area is mostly barren anyway so you didn't find anything worthwhile. The tower was cleared already, too, so you and Ellie mostly found solace in your own thoughts for the rest of the route.

She didn't mention the staring thing again, opting to keep quiet instead, but you could feel her eyes meeting the side of your head every now and then.

You didn't say anything to her as you re-entered Jackson, walking side by side to the stables to put the horses back.

Ellie was brushing out Shimmer's mane as she opened her mouth to speak, "hey, thanks for earlier. Seriously. It means a lot."

You nodded, "no worries," and you paused, unsure of what to say next. Before you could, Ellie spoke up again.

"And sorry, by the way," she said, eyes darting around the stables, "for being mean."

At that, you found yourself completely dumbfounded, eyes wide, staring across the stables at her. And before you had the chance to recover from the shock she was flying out of the stables, probably heading back to Joel's house.

Within the next four minutes you'd rushed to Dina's, tripping and stumbling over your own feet, heart pounding and mind racing.

"She apologized?" Dina asked incredulously, eyebrows raised and lips turned downward, "for real?"

You shrugged, "I guess. I can't believe it either."

"Yeah, dude, she hated you for years but you play hero once and now she likes you again?" Jesse laughed, shaking his head, "bullshit."

"I never said she liked me again, Jesse. I was just telling you what happened. She apologized. That's what happened."

"Maybe she realized you aren't that bad," Dina smiled.

"Oh thanks, Dee, I'm honored."

Dina chuckled, leaning towards you and smacking your shoulder playfully, "and it's about time."

You paused, chewing on your lip as you thought of the day's events over and over and over again.

"I hope this is a new beginning for you guys, you deserve it."

You stopped your thinking, pulling yourself out of your thoughts to respond with a smile, "thanks, Dee."

"So, now that that's out of the way," Dina smiled suggestively, narrowing her eyes and raising her eyebrows, "you want to come to the bar with us later? Everyone's gonna be there."

You couldn't miss the suggestive tone in her voice, the way it dropped a pitch and she gained a mischievous glint in her eyes.

You hummed, "are they? Good for them."

Dina sighed exhaustedly, "c'mon! You never come with us! It'll be so much fun, I promise!"

"I don't know, Dina. You know I'm not one for parties."

"Well, you are tonight," she tapped the palm of her hand against the table, "because you are coming with me and we are going to dance all night and have so much fun. So much so, in fact, that you're going to completely forget how much you hate parties!"

"Oh, is that right?" You smiled as you began to chuckle.

She hummed, a particularly big grin splattered on her face.

"Yeah, your new best friend might be there too," Jesse added, which earned a nasty look from you and a disapproving look from Dina.

"Shut up!" Dina shouted, turning her attention to Jesse - which only threw you right back into your own head.

After Dina snapped you out of it, and after a lot more begging and pleading on her part, you agreed. It couldn't be that bad - right?

The party was nothing short of what you'd expected.

It was loud, crammed, kind of smelly, and definitely not the place you wanted to be spending your time.

But every time you caught Dina's eyes or you looked over in her direction, the smile on her face was enough to make you feel so deeply guilty that you stayed put. You stayed with her if she brought you out to dance and you stayed with her if she brought you to the bar to get a new drink.

It wasn't a surprise when you noticed Ellie at the bar, nursing a cold cup, staring at you with a conflicting expression. It also wasn't a surprise when Dina grabbed your hand and started dragging you in her direction, giving you one last reassuring smile.

It was a surprise, however, when Ellie greeted Dina with a hug and you with a smile.

She smiled at you.

Completely unable to quickly recover, you let Dina do the talking, trying to calm your racing heart.

"Hey, El! How're you doing?" she had to shout over the music but you knew Ellie could hear her - everyone could hear Dina.

"Pretty good! You okay?"

They began to exchange pleasantries and all the usual small talk, so you spaced out for a moment, waiting for the moment Dina would pull you away again. That moment didn't come, however, because Dina ran off without you.

"Wait - where's she going?" you yelled, eyes finally meeting Ellie's.

"Said she was gonna grab Jesse," Ellie began, eyes scanning over your outfit. "You want a drink?"

You hesitated, thinking over what happened during patrol. You lost yourself, again, and began mulling over what you could say and how she would possibly respond.

But then you began speaking, your mind not caught up yet.

"Sure!"

Ellie's face relaxed a little, and she waved you over towards a quieter area of the bar. The flannel tucked up to her elbows showcased the way her muscles flexed as she signaled Seth over to your side of the bar.

"You doing okay?" You asked as Seth walked away. "It just... looked like that stalker shook you up a bit."

She nodded, "Yeah, yeah. It was a little," she shrugged and let out a mangled noise, "nerve wracking." You both laughed.

Seth dropped your drink in front of you, giving you a sideways glance before returning to the packed end of the bar.

"You know how it goes, though," she finished. "I'm good."

"Well, that is certainly a plus."

Her lips tugged into a small grin, making you mirror the expression.

"Thanks again, by the way."

"Hey, we were partners. It was my job to have your back."

You both laughed again.

And you fell back into it. Into that easy-going, comfortable rhythm you had with her so many years ago. It was like no time had passed at all; like you were fourteen again.

And even when Dina came back she didn't hide it. You were finally able to openly talk to your two friends together again. It was like a dream.

"Hey, Ellie!" No. "I haven't seen you in forever!" No. "You look so good!" No.

"Oh! Hey, Cat!"

No.

You could almost taste the tension that had suddenly built up around the three of you; the sudden change in the air sending your head reeling and heart pounding.

Ellie and Cat exchanged pleasantries (not like you were interested or anything) as you suddenly honed in on a weirdly shaped ice cube in your drink. Poking at it with your straw, you waited for Cat to leave, holding your breath.

And in less than five minutes, you fell out of it.

You fell out of your rhythm, Ellie already ten beats ahead of you while you seemed to have changed rhythms completely.

When Cat did (finally) leave you let out a shaky breath, watching as even Ellie noticed the shift in you.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, mostly directing the apology to Dina. She turned to face Dina straight on now, no longer moving her eyes between the two of you.

"You're fine," Dina brushed it off quickly, seemingly unaware of the sudden awkwardness.

"I should uh... go anyway. Joel's waiting for me, so... you know."

"Oh, yeah, sure. We should go soon too," Dina draped an arm around your shoulders, "I have kept someone here for way too long. She's getting a little antsy." She gave you a pointed smile, a teasing tone lacing her voice.

Ellie gave Dina a half-hearted chuckle before standing and hugging her. She gave you a very awkward, sideways, one armed hug before turning around and almost running out of the building.

"You want to go now or wait a little-"

"Can we go, Dina?" you rushed, clenching your eyes shut as you rubbed the balls of your palms into your eyes. "I'm just... really tired."

Dina stared at your face, her eyes scanning yours, for an extra beat before nodding, "Yeah, of course."

At home you spent the rest of your night hiding under your duvet, pulling at large chunks of your hair with your fists, digging your heels into your bed; all the way until you finished the night tiredly blinking away tears and chewing at your lips.

It was all so confusing. One minute you're dreading even looking at her and the next you're talking and laughing with her like you're best friends - and then? Then you're sitting there like the two of you never started talking again at all, all because Ellie said hi to an old friend.

One minute she's talking to you, then the next she's talking to you through Dina.

You woke in the morning with blood dried on your lips and dark bags under your eyes. You found it hard to keep your eyes open as you brushed your teeth, and one look in the mirror showed that you were in no state to leave your home anytime soon.

Your parents left quickly for work, not giving you a second glance even as you asked them to clear your schedule for the day.

Around noon you received a familiar knock at the door, and when you opened it you saw a face that hadn't graced your porch in a few years.

"Hey, Ellie," you paused, panicking internally. "What's up?"

"Do you want to talk?"

[qwesty-030]

hello ASP fandom

I’ve been lingering on the ASP tag for a while bc I wanted to find ppl that like the book as much as i do. I’ve seen all the beautiful fanart and whatnot. and I wanna thank yall bc I’ve been inspired to make my own post ✨! I too shall contribute to the ASP fandom too bc tumblr is the only place i can find an active asp fandom🧍

thank you and have a nice day

—

so uhm these are my designs for Finny and Gene. I drew these back when I started reading A Separate Peace in my high-school sophomore year. They’re pretty old drawings. At the time, I only drew these just to have some faces to put a name on (to help me visualize easier idk)

Well fast forward, my class finished reading ASP and I have been an ASP addict ever since.

okay im going to word vomit now

okay erm thought process of these designs:

Finny-

i tried to make him as book accurate at possible but ngl i actually i thought he was a red head before i looked up what he actually looked like. I genuinely wouldve believed he was a red head if i didnt looked it up (yes im referring to the ppl propagating redhead finny)

i gave him very sharp features and a somewhat messy hairstyle to symbolize his wild nature but also neat enough to get him by in school.

His shirt usually untucked or hastily put on. Most times he has his coat off or unbuttoned

he has some freckles and moles too YAY

Gene-

made him the most basic looking guy with the most basic features: black hair and brown eyes (okay ik his hair looks blue and u can barely see his brown eyed but i was limiting myself on colors GSSSYSHDHHSHA )

ofc i HAD to make him the complete opposite of Finny. His features are more squarish and rounder. because he always does random 90° angles out of nowhere

his hair is more neat and put together compared to Finny’s. It’s very structured to be square shaped. i like to think he uses a little bit of gel but it’s not a tight slickback. he lets his hair go loose bc he wants to follow Finny’s footsteps and be wild and free too 🤩🤩 yet he can’t help but follow the standard of having a neat slick hair and ofc follow school dresscode 🤷‍♀️

his fit is also more put together. he always makes sure his tie is neat and his coat is buttoned up most times

i gave him a mole :)

this was a fun one to make cuz he literally never describes himself in the book💀💀 i find that really interesting tho. perhaps it was on purpose so readers can relate to Gene more by emotion and not feel distanced by physical features

(yea i obviously put in a lot more thought into Gene’s design than Finny’s)

(i still love them both tho)

FUN FACTS YES THERE’S MORE:

honestly thought Finny was a latino and/or hispanic cuz of his tan skin. (im well aware white ppl can look tan and not be a hispanic but also hispanics and latinx could also look pale white i was lowkey a little ignorant back then 💀.) idk maybe he could have some hispanic blood 🤷‍♀️

do not mind the messiness and low quality, i did this in the dead of night on a note-taking app called Notability

that last note may sound absolutely unrelated BUT WAIT! I actually have a whole stock of ASP Notability doodles! More to come!! maybe…

if i feel like it…….

we’ll see

their hairstyles and clothing are based on actual 1940s styles :D it’s my favorite thing about their design especially their hair. it was fun researching and incorporating historical trends

the chair Gene is sitting on is supposed to be the Early American chair from Finny’s house! I did not put any effort into the chair whatsoever 😀

although i gave Finny short hair, I’ve come to see how good long hair Finny is

Yup that’s all for now. Thank you all who stopped by. It’s so nice meeting u guys!!

[devil-doll13]

My current ideas on the Percy Jackson AU

Inspired by @the-pinstriped-hood and @solmints-messyocdiary’s posts on the matter

Abigail - Daughter of Hecate

Wasn’t born in a graveyard in this AU. Instead, was left at the doorstep of one of her aunts. Her Warlock father, Lucien, was found dead in a cemetery however. It seemed like he was trying to perform some kind of ritual…

Experienced similar isolation from her family members, and one early sign of her Half-blood status was the fact she ended up speaking to dead spirits and ghosts. She also showed a knowledge for things she rather shouldn’t know, such as on poisonous herbs and plants.

Many of her relatives were killed by monsters trying to get to her, but by eleven years old the family ‘curse’ was finally lifted as she was brought to camp Half-Blood.

The powers she inherited from her mother are the standard umbrakinesis and necromancy. Abigail has also taught herself magic by studying and researching various tomes. She is strongest at night and weakest in the day.

Hecate is a tough parent who expects nothing but the best from her. The only reason she had her at all was to rear a powerful sorceress - her love is conditional. Abigail only earns a claiming when she has proved herself with her magic. She did this by slaying the Medusa. She still keeps her head as trophy, and sometimes to scare people bc she’s a fucking menace.

Wields a Stygian Iron sickle which disguises itself as a lipstick or mascara tube.

The only universe in which dogs don’t hate her little guts, since they’re a symbol of her mother.

Max - Son of Hermes

Either the result of an affair or a rebounding of sorts after his father died, now earlier than in canon. He has his father’s blue eyes and his mother’s curly yellow hair.

Max already canonically has ADHD so adding dyslexia to that only makes it even harder for him in regular school. This doesn’t stop him from writing or enjoying tabletop games though. Hermes is the god of many things, including writing and language.

Hermes seems to have a problem with claiming his kids, at least before the events of the fifth book. The cabin is going to be packed anyway, so Max has a whole bunch of adoptive half-brothers and half-sisters since he’s a friendly guy.

He gets along really well with Hephaestus cabin too, might even suspect he’s his kid because he’s also great with cars and mechanics. Basically he has an eclectic range of skills and interests due to Hermes’ Jack of all Trades nature.

Also very much a gotta go fast boi. Max is naturally athletic and outpaces his brothers (at home) in races every time.

Speaking of which, he does actually go home after every Summer to see them, though he isn’t spared from usual half-blood shenanigans…

Doesn’t like fighting much, but he has a Celestial Bronze sword which appears to mortals as a can of hairspray (I mean have you seen his curls!)

(Zach, Jude, Adam, Ciarán and The Librarian under the cut)

Zach - Son of Ares

Being that Zach’s mother, Isabel, was an elite member of a fairly militant organisation, it makes sense why Ares took an interest in her. His mom was killed by a monster when he was pretty young so he found his way to camp Half-Blood pretty quick and is an all year rounder.

It’s for this reason that he absolutely hates monsters, and Zach dedicates himself to slaying as many of them as possible.

Is naturally talented with just about any weapon he can get his hands on. Spears, swords, even archery though it is more of Apollo’s area. His feats in battle led to him being claimed by Ares pretty quickly, kind of a favourite child tbh.

He and Jude relate on a lot of things and have a pretty long history of friendship. They often accompany each other on quests whenever they can and make a great fighting team.

Very competitive in Capture the Flag though, and Chariot Races of course (though it’s very hard to beat Ciarán…)

Zach has many scars which he publicly treats as trophies due to the belligerent nature of his cabin, but really he doesn’t like them that much. He kind of puts on a show for his half-siblings, since weakness is targeted and all. They tend to idolise him as well, especially the younger ones.

He’s a collector of physical spoils of monsters though. Proud owner of a minotaur horn, which hangs ominously over his bed.

This is allegedly how he lost his eye. It’s a false story, though. The truth of it involves a certain goddess named Hecate…

Wields a super-heated Celestial Bronze spear which disguises itself as a lighter to mortals.

Jude - Daughter of Apollo

The result of a fling that her mother, Mary Bell, had when she was fairly young. Jude only knew her stepfather as a dad, at least until a monster attack killed both of her parents and left her completely shellshocked. She was taken to camp by a Satyr and felt very lost the whole time.

It was perhaps for this reason that Jude has taken to fighting off monsters so well. She doesn’t like keeping any trophies though.

Off the battlefield, she has a talent for healing inherited from her father, and spends a lot of time treating other demigods’ wounds.

She is always strongest during the day when the sun is highest, and hates Winter because there isn’t much daylight for her.

Despite being the daughter of the god of archery, she is an absolute garbage shot. She couldn’t believe it when she was claimed because of this, she almost thought it was a mistake lol. Probably thinks her dad is embarrassing as fuck too.

Also enjoys gardening so she’s friends with a lot of Demeter’s children. Except for Adam, who she gets real weird vibes from… Also, due to a feud she had with Hecate on a quest once, she and Abby don’t speak to eachother anymore. It seems she can’t forgive her.

Her weapon is a dagger made of Celestial Bronze that appears to mortals as a gold cross necklace.

Because her father is also the god of prophecy, Jude’s half-blood nightmares are especially vivid and foreboding.

Adam/Bill - Son of Demeter

It may seem pretty strange that Demeter would even take an interest in Bill’s dad, seeing as he was an asshole, a gambler, and lived in the desert… But sometimes weird things happen. Like Bill and Charlie.

As it was the arid desert, maybe Bill should’ve known something was up with him when he tracked grass and flowers everywhere. He loved to keep cacti, and had even more of a pronounced green thumb than his brother.

Being twins, obviously they were very close. Weird shit (like math teachers trying to kill them) always happened, but they didn’t think much of it until they were recovered by their Satyr. Actually, they were both pretty happy to get away from their shitty dad.

Of course, all good things come to an end. During a quest, Charlie died in a fight with a monster. Charlie, who was always the better warrior, the extroverted twin, the ace. Bill had to finish the Nemean Lion off himself.

Half-blood casualties happen all the time, but he was so well liked there were many mourners when burning his shroud.

The pelt also did come into his possession afterwards, but he didn’t want it, so it’s been left to rot away in the oracle’s attic.

After his brother’s death, Bill was never really the same. His other half-siblings tried to comfort him, but were discouraged by his change in personality. He started to experiment with plants in ways that most find a little sickening.

Like Max, he doesn’t like fighting. He isn’t great at it either, so he only really owns a greatshield that appears as a guitar case.

Ciarán - Son of Hades

Hades once fell for an Undertaker in Ireland, and the result of this union was Ciarán. That’s about the most you’ll get out of him though.

He doesn’t speak much, let alone about himself.

Ciarán is a very mysterious guy. He’s one of the oldest in camp, though he didn’t arrive until he was well in his late teens it seems. Nobody knows how old he is except possibly Chiron/the Camp Director. He also constantly wears a mask. No other half-blood has ever seen his face.

The visible appearance he does have is also a bit odd. He looks young, but has white hair, and he’s so pale and sickly that his skin is almost grey.

Maybe it’s this, or maybe it’s the fact he’s apparently the son of a god typically ostracised from the rest of the Olympians, but most people avoid him and think he’s intimidating or creepy. Even his own half-siblings aren’t immune tbh.

There are rumours that he’s not a half-blood at all, but actually a minor god of some kind… There’s no concrete proof to this though.

Often hangs around the Demeter cabin, (much to their dismay) and some of them could swear they’ve seen him admiring their flowerpots.

Carries a sword made of Stygian Iron that disguises itself as a horse-head whistle.

Max and Ciarán are often neck-and-neck in Chariot Riding activities. Neither of them are a bad sport about it though, it’s pretty easygoing.

Besties with a black Pegasus named Gormlaith.

The Librarian - Son of Athena

I know you don’t know this guy but bear with me

Being Athena’s brainchild, he was probably going to end up as a smart aleck. His rich father’s influence, however, led him to being even more of a pretentious know-it-all whose only downfall was the usual ADHD and Dyslexia, something that wasn’t understood during the time he was born (almost a century before modern times)

Even if his father survived, it didn’t matter. He had to be sent to camp half-blood for his own safety, and he was eager to learn more, but…

Just like Nico and Bianca, he spent time in the Lotus Hotel and Casino completely by accident. His Satyr had told him to wait around the area and his curiosity led to him wandering in. By the time another demigod’s quest brought them to him, decades had passed in the outside world.

So his arrival at the camp was difficult to say the least. He buried his sorrows in learning, as he always did. But misfortune followed him everywhere, even into the infamous labyrinth.

As for what happened to him, it’s difficult to say. That place isn’t exactly known for letting people out alive, though…

[drpeppertummy]

Pls do Leon for all ;; I love this man so much

ALL,,,,,,,,,, i was gonna tell u to come back with less but u know what . hes my special little guy im going for it [under a cut for 8 million miles length, warning for various bad eating habits, mentions of past abuse/trauma, addiction, self loathing, etc]

🎵 Do they have a noisy tummy? Is there anything unique or notable about the sounds their tummy makes? - i dont think theres anything too special about his tummy noises but it does have a lot to say. he either neglects to eat or eats absolute garbage, has a tendency to eat too much garbage in one sitting, chews a lot of gum (alternative to smoking) & gets bloaty from it, etc he does not treat his poor tummy kindly & it has no issue with speaking up about it

🏃 Do they eat faster or slower than average? If so, are there consequences? - he tends to eat way too fast & winds up 1. full of air and 2. too full bc he ate too fast for the fullness to catch up with him until its too late

🤬 How do they act when they're hungry? When they're too full? Which is worse? - he tends to be relatively quiet in his suffering so neither is awful. he forgets/works through/skips meals often enough that its just standard business for him, he'll be tired & achy & low energy but not That much more than usual. too full is probably worse bc a belly full of crap may incapacitate him for a while & then hes all sad & miserable

🥺 How do they feel emotionally when they eat too much? - shitty ! his lousy ex husband bill always made him feel awful about himself for overeating, putting on weight, etc & that mean-ass voice is still in his head. & he also feels like a stupid asshole for putting himself into that situation

🫢 Do they have any kind of belly kink or awareness of it? Do any of the characters around them? - i dont think so, although shel is very fond of his tummy but not necessarily in a kink way

📅 How frequently do they get into tummy shenanigans? - All The Dam Time [see first question] its rare for his tummy to Not feel at least a little crappy or be at least a little bloaty

🫥 Are they able to hide their hunger? Do they try to? - he tries & he usually succeeds at least until his belly starts growling enough to notice. cant hide it from shelly tho that guy can read him like a book

🤢 Are they able to hide it when they're too full? Do they try to? - Not At All. he tries to downplay it but he cant even try to hide it bc its useless. his tummy sticks out so much

🛌 What's the number one thing they want when they're too full? (belly rubs, sleep it off, lay down, etc) - mostly he just wants Comfort. wants someone to hold him so gentle. & if he feels all yucky n queasy he wants to sleep it off

🕒 What's the longest they've gone without eating? How did they feel? - probably like a day and brother . He Did Not Feel Awesome

break bc it straight up will not let me put all this in one block

🥘 What's the most they've eaten in one sitting? How did they feel afterwards? - i have 2 scenarios in my brain. one is the time someone talked him into weight watchers & he snapped like 3 days in & ate a ton of random crap in the middle of the night and the other is eating an entire pizza in one evening for no good reason. hes a little guy and in both scenarios his belly is so distended he can barely move. hurts and feels like a dumbass

🍽️ What's the most they can eat without getting a bellyache? - Good Quastion it depends on What hes eating. i think if he goes out for lunch somewhere & gets like a decent-sized sandwich & fries or some shit he can finish the whole thing & be just about at his limit before it becomes uncomfortable

🛑 Do they tend to stop eating when they're comfortably full, or do they keep going? Why? - he has a tendency to go overboard for various reasons. knows the food wont stay good any longer, eating his feelings, cant stop picking at it, etc

🧑‍⚕️ Do they usually ask for comfort when they don't feel good, or does somebody just know to comfort them? - hes too ashamed to ask for comfort. he feels awful making anyone worry about him. lucky for him shel knows when he needs a little extra care

💝 Do they want comfort when they don't feel good--even if they won't admit it--or do they prefer to deal with it alone? - he wants comfort So Bad even tho he doesnt think he deserves it & doesnt wanna worry anyone he wants nothing more than to be held & comforted when he feels shitty

😢 Are there any specific foods that upset their belly? - i dont think theres anything really Specific & his body is so used to eating like shit that its more the quantity of whatever hes eating than the food itself

🎈 Do they ever find themselves feeling bloated from something other than food? (swallowed air, too much liquid, period, illness, etc) - swallowed air is a big one, both bc of the fast eating & the gum, and liquid is also one. it doesnt really come up in my writing much but he is a (semi-recovering) alcoholic & this naturally causes some considerable bloating

🍎 If the goal was to eat as much of one food as possible, what food would they choose? Why? - i dont know if its the Best choice but i think hed go fries. that guy can put away some fries. even when his belly is absolutely stuffed he cant stop pickin at fries

👕 Have they ever had a belly-induced wardrobe malfunction? (popped button, shirt riding up, etc) How did they feel about it? - almost certainly. his empty tummy is nothing to write home about but it gets Impressively big, bordering on looking pregnant, if hes really full/bloated. i dont have a specific scenario in mind but whatever it was hed be absolutely mortified, even if nobody witnessed it

😈 Have they ever gotten into tummy shenanigans on purpose, for their own pleasure or somebody else’s? - no. he doesnt need to tho bc it happens by accident enough

😝 How would they feel if someone teased them for being hungry? For being too full? - he can laugh at himself a little when hes hungry but if someone teased him for overeating hed probably cry

😟 Are they shy about their belly for any reason? - he Hates his belly he thinks its so ugly. all he can see when he looks at it is this pasty doughy un-masculine mommybelly. he hates how chubby it is he hates the stretch marks he hates his dumb little appendectomy scar & bill Really hammered it into his head that his body is unappealing, esp after having their baby

🖼️ How would someone close to them describe their belly, in appearance or otherwise? - to contrast that last response, shel would describe his tummy as Absolutely Adorable and soft and pillowy and warm and squeezable and very nice to touch

🕴️ Is there a certain type of situation that frequently results in tummy shenanigans for them? - some days he'll go to wawa after work for a snack/dinner & overestimate how much he can eat bc hes starving. winds up getting a bunch of greasy crap & giving himself a bellyache

⚖️ Has their weight changed at all over the years? How do they feel about it? - hes never been really skinny but hes def put on some weight over the years. he mightve been ok with it if bill hadnt been so awful to him about it but alas

🫄 Has there ever been a time when their belly was so bloated that it got in their way/made a task difficult? - his belly sticks out Far when hes really bloated. things like washing the dishes when his bellys pushing against the counter, trying to reach to the bottom of the washing machine, etc become Awkward And Uncomfortable

🧐 Is it obvious when they’ve overeaten, be it by the appearance of their belly, their behavior, etc? - even if his belly wasnt Crazy Distended i think itd still be clear that whatevers in there is weighing him down, esp if its something really heavy thats got him feeling kinda queasy

🍔 Has another person ever caused them to overeat deliberately or unintentionally? - shel has def gotten him to eat too much unintentionally. not his fault he wants leon to eat good food for once🤷

🫧 How do they feel about burping in front of others? Does it happen often? - i think it happens fairly frequently with the amount of air he swallows & he tries to keep it quiet or swallow it back down bc hes a little embarrassed about it

☹️ Have they ever forced themself to finish eating something that they didn’t want to finish? - probably, if he didnt think he was gonna be able to save it for later. doesnt wanna waste it & if nobodys around to share it with hes gonna cram it in

😍 Does anybody give their belly extra attention even when it feels perfectly fine? How do they feel about it? - shel is all over his tummy he Loves that thang. leons all bashful about it but it Does make him feel loved & it helps to combat some of those negative thoughts since shels affection is so genuine

💭 Have they ever had a memorable tummy shenanigans incident that other people still bring up to this day? - i think he once overate at a work party & popped a button upon sitting down. hell on earth humiliation. one of his annoying coworkers still brings it up from time to time. he wants to bite her head off

🚗 Does their tummy get upset from things other than food or hunger? (nerves, vehicles, etc) - he gets carsick if hes not the one driving. nerves probably also but thats indistinguishable from any other aspect of his day to day life

🛏️ Does anybody ever use their tummy as a pillow? If so, how do they feel about it? What’s it like for the other person? - shellyyyyy i just Know shels using his belly as a pillow its so soft & plush & cozy he'll fall asleep on it so fast esp bc leons playing with his hair while hes layin there. & then leons Stuck There. he thinks its kinda sweet tho

🙄 Is there a certain type of recurring tummy shenanigan that they’re notorious for? - everything .

🫱 Do they like having their belly touched? In what circumstances, if any? - hes a little skittish about it even with shel bc of The Insecurity & also bc bill would like jab n pinch him so sometimes he still flinches a little (shel wants to hunt bill down & skin him alive every time that happens) but he Does like when shel rubs his belly once he settles into it

[havethetouch]

Gen Life Update (a bit ranty tho)

Figured I write a thingie because I noticed some time has passed me by again because stuff got hectic and ehh the radio silence was not intended but might hold for a bit.

Here is the thing - back in November 2022 my best friend and I had some talks about the future, we are roommates, she has a boyfriend who wants to move in together and our lease will end this year and well.. we put a maybe on moving out in general or extending the lease for a year back then, mainly because such a talk was a bit scary and weird.

For context, we both moved out at age 19 from our family homes and moved in together because were we life living alone is not feasible it is too expensive (and it has only gotten worse since) so we have been cohabitating for over 10 years now and such a big change is just... damn.

Anyway fast forward to the beginning of the year were we got back to that talk and decided yeah, moving out it is we do not like the flat much we hate our landlord because he is a piece of shit but we also have no energy nor want to find a new flat that is kinda affordable (almost impossible) and meets our standards because we are in our 30s now and are not willing to go back to living in a small flat like we used to before this one we have right now (even more impossible these days we pay too much for too little space already)

Now we are suddenly at "fuck this we goin!" because roughly two weeks ago our landlord decided to send a formal letter to inform us that we should pay him more money by the beginning of March. Which: fuck off. Pissed off is a cute way to describe how I regarded this shitty piece of paper from a piece of shit person :) So we went from "maybe" to "we gonna write a formal termination letter today weeehhh~"

What our landlord don't know is that in our first year of living here and noticing that he is difficult (example - one off the electrical outlets is broken, has apparently been broken for a while, this is a wee bit not good and he basically gave us a formal warning that this is our problem we should pay to fix that which is legally not true and just bs but I kept the letter so if he wants to fuck us over I have proof that he was aware of the issue and did not care There were other issues with the flat too like heating did not work at first, a window mechanism broke in winter and every time we called to have this fixed he dragged his feet, screamed a bit at us and was a lil bitch about it. For the record, I fixed the window myself after training myself on youtube videos and other stuff to identify the problem and then get creative with fixing that because a part was simply broken in the metal frame which would have meant to replace the whole window mechanism and he would not have paid that shit so I had to made do so my roommate would not freeze in the night bc her window was not closing properly (fuck this man so much eyyyy))

Anyway so we noticed he was a prissy bitch which probably was fueled by the fact that he is both rich and a lawyer and therefore two people he clocked as young as stupid clearly can't outwit his greatness and be too difficult because clearly we would not fight him or whatever. Jokes on him, we joined the tenant union in our first year of his bs and dutifully paid our fees to have help on standby when things get even more dicey. So things are dicey now and I know he will probably try to fight us tooth and nail to keep as much of the security deposit as possible and make things hard he is just this kind of a douchebag. But since we are members of this union we have a right to a lawyer from them at no additional cost (which is a perk you reach after 1 year of memebership god bless them) and they are already alerted of the situation and will help us not only combat his rent increase demand (which he technically can do but he did not do it the legal way and so we have grounds to refuse atm, also hitting us well into February with a sudden "this new price at the beginning of the next month" is also not quite legal either soooo) And yeah so we prepare ourselves for a big blow up on our landlords part because he is deeply allergic to people who do not cower and know their rights. So we are down to "moving out? Nah, exit strategies are planned over here now". My bestie will move out in two weeks we currently pack her stuff and dismantle her furniture and I will not stay here for long either. We will have to adhere to the notice period of our termination but hey maybe he just throws up his hands and terminates from his end to make the time shorter so he can get new folks in asap. It will be fun to deny him prominent viewing spots for new prospective tenants simply bc I work from home and have meetings and can't reasonably be expected to be disturbed by viewings and also can not be expected to vacate the premises bc work. I mean I will fuck off from here asap too I am done with the flat, the landlord and if I'm honest, I'm kinda really tired of the city too. Don't get me wrong i love Vienna with all my hart but there is also lots of bs that happened in this city and I am so ready for just getting outta here and go rural.

As for a more positive note to end this on (kind of) I will be moving into my forever home (possibly). We had some deaths in the family in the last four years and some of you know one of them was my dad. he left me this house and while i have still some reservations to call it my own, I am ready to start my life there and make it my own. Still have to go through some stuff because a lot of the stuff from our dead relatives ended up in the house because we had nowhere else to put it than there so we have to make some room to store my stuff at least and then I can slowly work on the rest. I am still kinda apprehensive about a lot of stuff because there are just many ghosts in this house and it will be hard but it also probably will be freeing and good and I want to tend to my garden and despair on the possibilities on so much space like the house is big, I am used to live out of one room and now soon will have two extra rooms to do as I please with and this is wild to me. all of this is kinda wild to me because I never had much money and with how expensive everything is in the city never had much opportunity to put money aside in the first place I was unemployed for a while some years ago i am used to surviving on little and worked myself into somewhat comfortable as i am currently. Moving into this house will be a game changer because it is paid off. This will absolutely change my life in so many ways, many many good ways. I have rich people dreams on renovating the bathroom because I would love to have a bathtub and it doesn't sound as crazy anymore to think along these lines. Wild. But first I have to pay off some debts and my teeth and then watch me go willllld I guess xd It also is a bit bittersweet bc like I said, my best friend and I (we met at 15 and have been inseparable since then) have been living together for so long and I personally have never lived on my own ever in my life and this is kinda exciting but spooky and I look forward to it but also stress out already over all the stuff I have to think about ahead and plan but ehhh for the first time in 4 years I am actually looking forward to the future and feel tentatively hopeful and this is also kinda heavy because it's been a while since I did that, the last 4 years were just a bit too hard to look past the next day or even beyond that. But now I look at my plans for just 2023 and I'm like "fuck yeah, screw surviving I'm ready for thriving" So... Imma be a bit more busy in the next days than I had expected due to vacating my flat as fast as possible and I hate moving but i love the idea of this being the final time so bear with me I work on art still in my downtimes when I need some cleansing but yehhh bit busy. Wee bit busy but finally busy with better things. Hopeful things. Life stuff, you know?

Love ya~

[canirim]

God I forgot I made this post and left it unposted so anyway, this was me screaming right after watching All of Us are Dead .

.

SO yeah I just spent the night binge watching All of Us are Dead and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

spoilers under this cut, don’t say I didn’t warn ya

I really just loved how every character was brought into the story and how they reacted. Even the ones with less screen time and back stories are interesting and the actors where just amazing. Also, the actors that played the hybrids (nam-ra, eun ji  and gwi nam) where SO GOOD - and also the makeup and special effects team, 10/10 great job.

I HATE WHEN THEY MAKE A DECENT TEACHER CHARACTER AND KILL THEM OFF Mrs. Park Seon ily

I absolutely love On-jo and how brave she is, and the fact that even though there was jealousy with Nam-ra involved bc of a romantic interest, she never once tried something cruel or spiteful. LOVE IT - ALSO NAM-RA love her "lack" of expression in many scenes, the actress worked very well. -go girl give us nothing /j- STILL on Nam-ra, I really like her! And I love her romance with Hyeok.  WHICH I HAVE TO SAY, Hyeok became my favorite from the moment he just....he just fucking did that thing where you kick a wall to jump higher and then kicked a zombie right in the face??? insane - love absolutely crazy people fighting zombies with kicks and punches like?????????? I would never I would simply cease to exist really I have no idea how people would stay motivated on being alive during shit like that - the moment I realized my family and friends where dead I would 100% just die that is if I didn't die sooner bc - ZOMBIES MORE ZOOMBIES amiright they run so fucking fast I would be dead in seconds

okay back to the characters: Dae Soo is a blessing and I'm so glad he survived. The scene in the rooftop where they sing is just...THAT'S THE GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE!!! THAT'S WHAT HUMANITY IS ABOUT BABY!!!! CONNECTION!!! EVEN THROUGH HELL (also the actor is really cute without the character haircut so yeah Dae Soo is top 2 best boy in this series for me)

but talking about the top 1 Soo hyeok absolutely meet all the standards and AGAIN I LOVE HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH NAM-RA THEY ARE SO CUTE

now to the not happy screaming NA YEON WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK - LIKE I GET PANICKING LIKE JI MIN, who ran away when her friend needed help but YOU ACTUALLY FUCKING INFECTED SOMEONE *ON PURPOSE* AND FOR WHAT REASON?! BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT HE WAS ANNOYING AND POOR???? WHAT THE F-  seriously I'm always in awe that people actually hate others for........not being born into wealthy families?? being poor?? like what the fuck but like YOU FUCKING MURDERED HIM and I really liked him - Gyeong was such a good friend...

WHICH ALSO BRINGS ME TO I knew this show was going to be good the moment where I cried in the second episode in I-sak's death. In just two episodes they managed to make me care and feel how this impacted the other characters - and I love the show for it. I've seen shows with whole ass seasons that didn't develop nor narrated the characters connections like they did.

also honestly Min Eun Ji just going feral about the school and everyone was a cathartic experience the whole scene where she put fire on the teacher's room, and later left the school on a bike in the middle of the road... not gonna lie my first thought was "ha must be nice being able to go anywhere anytime and not have to worry about men anymore"

[kirillmarchenko]

hockey stats crash course

hi guys!! here is my (not very) brief attempt to give a basic foundation of stats and how they relate to hockey, specifically looking to explain a couple of the popular models used. if i missed anything (or misspoke) please let me know! thanks for reading :)

let’s get into itttt!!!!!!! let’s start with the different types of data: qualitative and quantitative. qualitative data is arbitrary stuff like when you ask someone on a survey what their favorite color is. their response is a qualitative data point. quantitative data is numerical; think quantity. examples would be height, weight, or the year you were born. so why does this matter in hockey? think of it this way: the eye test is based on qualitative data points, things like how well defenders disrupt passing lanes. goals and assists are quantitative data points. but how do we reconcile the two to more accurately evaluate players with numbers? this is what models try to account for.

a couple important reminders: correlation does not equal causation. just because over time, nic cage’s movie appearances correlate to the number of people who drowned in a swimming pool does NOT mean that nic cage is the one causing this. he’s not pushing them into the pool himself. 

also, statistical tests work better with large sample sizes. the data is more normal, meaning there is less of chance that the data you’re looking at is just an outlier. for example, at one point this season matt boldy had like 10 points in 10 games. does this small sample mean that he’ll be a ppg guy for the rest of his career? of course not. this also brings up the point of context is KEY. all data can be taken out of context. numbers lie. we’re having fun. :) in the case of matt boldy, you can look at the context of those 10 points. is he playing with high quality linemates? is he only being deployed in his offensive zone? the models we’ll talk about try to take these things into account to give the numbers some more context.

some key terms real fast on the slide above. for mean, think about test scores. to get the average exam score, you add up everyone’s grade and divide by the number of kids in the class. for median, you get the data point that’s dead center. this can be useful in situations where the data set is skewed to one side, like when we look at income. median income is used because if they used mean as a descriptor, the really rich people would skew the average higher than is representative of the population. for standard deviation, if there is a town with incomes that are relatively the same, the standard deviation will be small. There is less variance between each data point (i’m including this bc of dom’s recent awards article). Linear regression is great for predictions; we could draw a line that most accurately represents the proportion of nic cage’s movies to pool deaths to predict how many people he would kill if he did six movies in a year.

SO let’s get into the hockey part now :) we’ll start by looking at game score, or a sum of a bunch of box score metrics to evaluate a player’s performance that night. It uses a common technique called weighting, which we’ll reference a lot. Weighting is just numerically giving importance to certain stats. For example, goals are weighted higher than primary and secondary assists (.75 vs .7 and .55) which makes sense! A lot goes into the GS, including corsi for and against. Corsi seems confusing but it’s not; shots your team takes when you’re on the ice = CF. shots the opposing team takes when you’re on the ice = CA. a high CA indicates you spend a ton of time in your defensive zone. the goalie GS is much simpler, looking at just goals against and saves. 

Now, you may be asking yourself why is this stuff so hotly contested? Seems pretty simple, right? That’s part of the issue, it’s too simple. The skater GS values offense more to a fault, especially when it comes to comparing a defenseman’s impact to a forwards. this is partly due to the fact that more quantitative offensive stats exist. A goalie’s GS doesn’t factor in the quality of shots they face either. A high shot volume doesn’t necessarily mean they were all good chances, half of them could have been point shots that were easily deflected by the goalie. On the other hand, a high GA doesn’t tell the whole story either. All those goals could have been the result of 2-0’s for all we know. These problems with a simple model like this are partly why fans claim bias against their teams. For example, the islanders are a defense first team, meaning they’ll usually have a low shot volume and not a ton of goals. That’s not going to rate too highly in this GS model. A team like Toronto will though, and so islanders fans could claim the model has a leaf bias. This is not the case and is why context is SO important in these models.

Dom at the athletic uses a modified version of GS to create his own regression model that determines a player’s wins above replacement, or WAR. This measures the impact of a player according to the mean. His tweaks include using expected goals instead of corsi, which look at shot quality instead of only volume. 

Here are some of the microstats that go into expected goals. It’s a good example of quantifying things you would see with just the eye test and putting it to good use in a statistical model. 

Back to dom’s model. Updating the GS to include shot quality helps evaluate goalies more than before, and gives a different insight into the quality of offense being produced by skaters. However, this doesn’t exactly account for the discrepancy between offence and defense, so he weighted defenseman xGF, xGA, and GA higher in all situations. This tweak places emphasis on play driving (xGF) and defending (xGA and GA). Dom’s model isn’t perfect because none of them are, but it’s a cool way to compare players based on position. There still isn’t a great way to compare goalies to skaters, so goalie GSVA numbers should be looked at based on position. 

The other commonly used WAR model is by the twins at EvolvingHockey. Their method and model is more complicated and basically takes into account every stat reported by the NHL. They also split up the WAR based on situation, looking at each strength and data like finishing. Quality of teammates is always brought up in award conversations, so their model has an way to account for the strength of teammates as well as strength of opposition they face. I’ll let y’all read their explanation for the thinking behind their regression choices if you want. Machine learning is a whole different beast and it’s so painful.

JFresh’s infamous cards use the twins’ WAR data, splitting up their outputs into nice digestible pieces. The key with these cards is to understand what the percentage means (and that blue = good, red = bad). Makar doesn’t have a 100 point WAR, he’s in the .01% of all defenders based on WAR. If a player had a 0% WAR, they could be sent down to the AHL and no one would notice. It would probably be for the best tbh. The cards help you see which parts of the game each player excels at relative to their peers in that position. Makar’s strength is offence, but he still has insane defensive numbers, ranking in the top 24% of defensemen based on that WAR value. You can also see the how the quality of his teammates and opposition rank, as well as his penalty differential.

The last person I want to talk about really quick is Micah at hockeyviz. His graphs are awesome and are really good for visualizing where shots come from and how teams generate offense/defense compared to those around the league. He also has nice shift charts so you can see who is being deployed when, and against who. 

The biggest disclaimer with all of the stats websites you can find are that you have to pay for each one, which sucks but it makes sense, considering they created these networks themselves. Full disclosure, I only have a subscription to the athletic. the other three have their processes pretty well documented for free, you just can’t get to the actual numerical content without paying. Unless you catch JFresh in the middle of a twitter rant. Basically, they all have a ton of cool information on how to compare players across the league keeping in mind the limitations of each model. Dom is really good at explaining his thinking behind some of his GSVA results that most of his commenters fully ignore, resulting in a ton of accusations of bias and denouncing of stats as a whole. i personally think the eye test vs stats debate is stupid when you can just use both to your advantage. hopefully this will put into context some of the numbers you see floating around and if you have any questions let me know. :)

[fbfh]

robin buckley relationship and intimacy hcs

wordcount: 700

warnings: yearning, fluff, nsfw content, robin is really down bad for you, she's a switch but this is more about top!robin

a/n: JUST FINISHED ST4!!!!!!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!!!!!

also robin being a bottom will be coming soon so will all of us

tags: @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @littlewinter1917 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @Sad-brunnettee

As with all nsfw works all characters are age up to 18+!!

THAT BEING SAID

HOLY SHIT LET’S GET INTO IT

Ty for requesting this bc I’ve been wanting to write it forever

As we’ve previously established, Robin Buckley is an AMAZING girlfriend

She’s definitely a switch

But like

A top leaning switch

Bc first of all

She hasn’t really had a girlfriend before

So once you had even started flirting with her

Useless Lesbian Mode activated

And then when you start dating, any time you instigate kisses or cuddles or any kind of intimacy

She just short circuits

You could take advantage of this and top her

But you have to act fast and keep her really flustered

Bc in a few seconds everything catches up to her

And she is so filled with love and yearning and desire for you 

The only way it manifests is by her topping the shit out of you

Remember how I was like “yeah making out with robin ends one of two ways this is the sfw cute cuddly ending”

Yeah

The other nsfw really hot ending is right here

And it’s robin going down on you until you cum at least a dozen times

The first time she made you cum??????

Oh my god

It did something to her

It unlocked a part of her brain

And now she is not satisfied until you’re both exhausted, dehydrated, and entirely out of orgasms

She is so, so into you

She can last for hours 

A quickie  by your standards is what most people would consider a normal session

And yeah she can make you cum crazy fast

She can have you writhing and clenching around her and pulling her hair in minutes

But by that point 

She really can’t keep her hands off of you

Literally

You’re so pretty and you like her so much and you smell so good 

And you taste even better

And that cute little face you make when you orgasm??

If she can make you do that again and again and again 

She’s going to

She is so good with her mouth

And her hands

Her hands are so soft and pretty and her fingers are so long

Oh my god oh my god

Half her diary entries are about you by now

Okay more like most

And a lot of them are very detailed accounts of the nights you spend together

She finds herself rereading old entries from time to time

She used to hate looking back through her diaries

Especially in high school

But now she’s filling them up faster than ever

The first diary she started once you two got together is her favorite

Bc she realized there won’t be one page in there where you’re not in her life

And let’s be real

She’s so fucking smart

She’s going to figure out what makes you tick

And moan

In minutes

And dear god, she loves your chest

Big boobs, little boobs, uneven boobs

Or as Steve would say, boobies

She loves them

She loves your boobies

Your boobies? Great! Your hips? Great! Your face? Great! Your hands? Great! Your laugh? Great! The way you look at her? Great! The way your lips feel on her skin when you press warm kisses against her? Great!

Me?? I’m tight as fuck!!!

Sometimes after you’ve been at it for a while

When you’re lying next to each other, legs still shaky

All the hickeys you gave each other blooming on your skin

You’re both so warm and blissed out and sleepy

Sometimes she’ll start rambling 

She’ll just start absolutely word avalanching about how great you are

How hot and sexy and amazing you are

How much she loves you

How much she hopes you like her

And mostly how she never ever ever thought you would ever like her like this

Like ever

Sometimes when she’s rambling like this she really wishes she could stop

But she just can’t

So if you caress her cheek and let out a sweet little giggle 

And press a kiss to her lips to shut her up

And give her mouth something else to do

She’ll be very grateful 

Like grateful enough that it might lead to another round

Or several

[oftenderweapons]

hello 👀 first of all i love your writing. second of all idk if you saw joon’s make up artist reaching up to him to fix his makeup on set but i could think about vixen bc we all know how volatile and jealous she may get.... so may i suggest a joon x vixen jealous sex drabble??? thank u!!!

Hello, dear reader. Thank you soooo much for the compliments. I couldn’t help but deliver, it literally wrote itself. There you go 💜✨

title: yours, truly

pairing: namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

wordcount: 2.7k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

synopsis: Vixen doesn't appreciate the imbalance between her belonging to Namjoon and his belonging to her, and although she understands the limits due to his job, at the same time she's uncomfortable about the way she feels. However, Namjoon is eager to reassure her.

trigger warnings: argument on jealousy and double standards. There is one very specific passage where Namjoon imposes himself physically on Vixen, grabbing her and pinning her while she's trying to get away from him. If this triggers you, please do not read further. On to sexual topics: mention of cunnilingus, masturbation (male and female receiving), unprotected sex (BE SMART!!!!!!), marking, power struggle, several occurrences of pinning and top-bottom shifts.

a/n: Hello people, here's the first of several drabbles I've been working on. Please, stay tuned cause HOPEFULLY Jimin and Princess should be next 💖

Here's my masterlist enjoy 💜✨

⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂

You stormed into the apartment, Namjoon hot on your heels.

“Vixen,” he called, watching you take off your shoes with a frown on your face. “Babylove.”

You lifted a finger, inviting him to keep quiet before you stood and headed to your room.

“Vixen?” he called, once more. He knew what had happened, and he knew you didn't mean to act like that. He knew you didn't like feeling jealous or possessive, but the footage of him wrapping an arm around his makeup artist — even if it was just to keep her from falling — had unsettled you more than you wanted to admit.

There were women who dried his sweat and helped him change his clothes and saw him half naked regularly, and they were out there doing so publicly, while you didn't even own a picture of him kissing you. After being together for six months. After him asking you to be his wife.

To anyone except his friends and family, you were nothing but a stranger to him.

“Vixen?”

You were his. Always. All the time. You wore his clothes and had his marks on you from Monday to Sunday, twenty-four seven, uninterruptedly ever since he'd first told you he loves you — with an unintended pause because of the tour.

But what about him? Did he even belong to you?

He called your name shyly, fearsomely. “Look at me, please.”

“I'm going to take a bath,” you announced dryly.

“I'm coming with you,” he replied, already taking off his clothes.

“I want to be alone.”

He inhaled and did the crudest, most animalistic thing he could think of. He grabbed your waist and made you face him. “Vixen. Look at me.”

You shook your head and tutted.

“Say 'no' and I'll let you go,” he said, his voice booming like thunder.

You stayed silent.

“Look at me,” he repeated, an arm around your waist, his free one coming up so he could grip your chin and force your eyes to meet his. “Like this.”

“I hate this!” you spat, looking away right before he forced you to meet his eyes again. “It's not fair!” You snarled before angrily pushing the heel of your foot against his toes.

He hissed and let you go, only to catch you once more half a second later, pinning you against the wall. “Talk to me.”

Your brow furrowed, your eyes like a dark storm, you looked at the floor as you admitted, “I have no right to feel jealous. And I hate it. It’s not fair.”

Namjoon hugged you to him, kissing your head as you pressed your forehead to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, I just… hate that you make me feel like this. It’s not you, it’s how I feel about what you do. That is, the position you’re in.” You bit your lip nervously, gripping his shirt in your fists.

Namjoon didn’t quite understand what you meant by that, but reversing the situation gave him a quite poignant point of view. The idea of you being chaperoned by other men at all time, of you being in his shoes, with people drooling over you at all times, being backstage and having no privacy with or without your clothes on, people imagining you as their partner, as their hot one night stand, as their one true love.

The thought of having to share you the same way you had to share him all the time made a shiver run down his spine. He knew he would never be able to tolerate all the things you went through for him without batting an eye. “I’m so sorry, love.” He ran his hands to the back of your thighs lowering himself to pick you up, your arms latching behind his neck as he did so. “I’m so, so sorry, little fox,” he repeated, his voice so deep and soothing.

“I’m okay, it’s just that…”

He kissed your cheek as he sat on the bed, placing you on top of him, straddling his hips. “You’re not okay, and that’s alright.” He waited for you to oppose as he let his lips linger one millimeter from yours.

Shyly, almost as if reluctantly, you pressed your mouth to his, feeling his hand on your nape, tangling in your hair, the other one pressed to the small of your back. “Take off your clothes, please,” you whispered in between kisses. Unquestioningly, he took off his undershirt, your body still on top of his while you undid the buttons of your blouse — actually, only a couple of them before you slipped it off from over your head. Namjoon’s hands went around your waist, lifting the lace and satin top you were wearing underneath, pressing his nose to your sternum once your torso was so enticingly naked, your body rising to your knees so he could reach your breastbone more comfortably, your arms hugging his head.

“You’re so precious, my babylove. So strong,” he murmured, “You’re so understanding and I’m so glad when you open up to me.” He inhaled you as he confessed some more of his worries, “I always fear that someday it will feel too much and you’ll leave.”

You shook your head, squishing his face in your palms before standing before him, taking off your jeans lightning-fast, watching him quickly remove his slacks and underwear in one go.

“Come claim it, babe,” he growled, extending his hands to you, making a come-hither motion.

You wiggled out of your panties and smiled sweetly, joining him, sitting on his lap and batting your eyelashes with a cute pout, Namjoon shaking his head at you with a knowing grin. And at that, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down. “You really thought?”

He licked his lips and rolled his eyes. “I, at least, hoped.” His hands landed on your ass before you could grab his wrists and pin them above his head while you made your way up, your naked fold glistening with wetness already in the unforgivingly bright light of your bedroom.

You knew he had a thing for keeping the lights on anyways.

“Come on, sit,” he said, his arms fighting you only playfully as he ached to grab your ass and make you ride his face.

“No.” Your reply was lapidary as your free hand began to tease the skin around your sex — not yet your folds, nor your clit,

“Vixen.” Your name sounded like a warning.

“Maybe you’ll learn I can do without you.”

“Enough,” he growled before his arms escaped your weak excuse of a grip, his jaw locked and his eyes stern in what would be nothing but his hard dom look. “You think you’re funny?”

The way he pushed you with your back to the mattress, your arms trying to save you from losing your balance, made your heartbeat flutter.

“You think I don’t know that already? You think that doesn’t scare me to the bone?” He hissed as he laid on top of you, holding back his weight only slightly. “We know who can do without who here,” he said, his eyes so tormented you wanted to comfort him. “I’m half a soul without you.”

You wrapped your legs around him, rubbing your pelvis against his hardening cock. “Stay with me, then. Remind me.” You placed your lips against his neck, licking up the curve of his throat before bringing your lips to his ear. “Are you mine, Joonie?”

His eyes rolled shut, his head moving in a nodding motion. “I only want to be yours. All the time. I wish we could be naked and alone every single second.”

You giggled and moved your hand between your bodies. “Can I stretch a little? I need you inside.”

“Do you want me to do that?” He asked, right before you shook your head. “Fuck, ____, you're fucking perfect,” he murmured, kissing down your body, licking your nipple, sucking it briefly. “I'm so in love.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night?” you asked him, purring as you pushed two fingers inside you.

“That you're gonna be my wife, someday?”

You chuckled and nodded. Sometimes it felt unreal that he had proposed to you. Already.

And that the ring around your right fourth finger was not your family ring.

“I told you I'm dedicating my life to you. That I want to live by your side for as long as we can. That I believe in you.”

He found solace in the crook of your neck, his lips searching for your collarbone before his teeth nibbled at it gently. “Don't stop. Ever.”

A third finger entered your hole, stretching your inner walls until you were comfortable. Still, you were too impatient to wait any longer, grabbing his cock and placing its tip against your folds. “I won't,” you promised, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as he sank in. “Fuck, too big.”

Namjoon backtracked as quickly as possible, but your hands stopped him just in time. “No, no, stay inside, please. I can get used to it.” Your nails sunk into his ass. “Don't go. Please.”

Namjoon inhaled, trying to keep his cool as much as possible. “I should have prepped you.” He groaned and pressed your face into his neck. “Hold tight, love. I need to shift just a little.”

You loved when he pampered you like that, when he treated you like his delicate porcelain doll. With a loud exhale, he fixed his position until he could rest more easily and resist your tight squeezes as you adjusted to him filling you to the brim. In maybe a minute, you shifted your hips, whispering, “Okay, move, please.”

“That's my good girl,” he replied, smiling at you before giving one slow, smooth stroke that made you purr and throw your head back, his tongue drawing the arch of your throat. “My jealous little thing, mh? You're so adorable.” He gave another deep, slow thrust, watching you writhe below him, legs shaking as they tensed up in pleasure. And then again, pulling out and pushing in making your toes curl, your entire mind malfunctioning into bliss.

“I love it when you're jealous,” he taunted you. “Makes me feel so wanted.” He drew the shell of your ear with his lips, your body drowning in sensations, too small to handle all he had to offer. “Almost as sexy and as desirable as you are. My little fox.”

“Joonie…” you almost sobbed, clawing at his shoulders before remembering you must absolutely not, throwing your hands off him and tugging at the sheets.

Namjoon nuzzled his nose against the side of your face. “Scratch, mark, bite. I don't care. I'm yours, Vixen.”

You whimpered and forced yourself not to. Maybe you just wanted to see who would cave first, maybe you were still feeling too petty about all the times you had been denied.

“Do it. I know you want it,” he tempted you. “Take what you want, little fox.”

You shook your head and brought yourself not only to pin your hands in place, but also turn your face away.

Namjoon rammed into you aggressively at your act of defiance, causing you to gasp and flinch. “Claim me. Do it, ____. I belong to you. Won't you acknowledge that?”

Lips sealed, eyes closed, you fought him, knowing you were absolutely hopeless the moment he pulled you on top of him. “See. This is what you do to me. Look at me. Look at the mess I become for you. For you, alone. No one else in the whole world, Vixen. Only you.” He led his hand on your belly, rubbing at your clit with his thumb, letting you grind on him with your own pace. He only wanted to make you feel good. “Vixen, please, baby. Look at me.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, your hands on his pectorals, your hips moving on him so naturally, so comfortably. He looked beautiful. Grandiose. Magnificent.

He looked like the only man you would ever look at. You knew there was no way you would look at anyone else if he was in the room.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked fondly, placing his hand atop of yours, lacing your fingers together.

“That you're the only one for me. That I need something of you that belongs to me alone.”

He shifted your hands slightly, his engulfing your own on top of his beating heart. “Here. Yours. All yours. Take it.”

You started going faster, needing for the messy ordeal to come to an end so you could sleep the afternoon away wrapped up in his arms.

With quick swivels of your hips, you changed your angle, making sure that he rubbed against your sweet spot, deep inside you.

“Guess what else is yours?” he teased, looking down, keeping his finger steady against your sensitive nub.

“Your exceedingly large dick?” you suggested with a gleam in your voice, sending the both of you into a tumble of laughs.

“Exactly,” he replied playfully. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” you replied quickly, feeling your high spiral out of control. “Cumming.”

“Let go,” he reassured you, catching you with his arm once your body collapsed, his thumb still teasing you while he started thrusting from below, making sure that your orgasm peaked and extinguished in pleasure before he finally climaxed, knowing all too well that your final squeezes would trigger his own ecstasy.

“Doesn't it feel good to cum on your favourite dick, mh?”

“My one and only,” you stated openly, watching him get increasingly worked up. “Show me who you belong to, Joon. You say you're mine? Then cum inside me.”

He shut his eyes tight. “Come on. Gimme all you've got,” you taunted him.

He grit his teeth and shook his head. He needed better leverage to go harder.

You understood that immediately. “Wanna get on top?”

He was conflicted, but in the end you found yourself with your back once more to the mattress, his cock pushing inside you so hard and fast that you were ready to start all over again if it weren't for the numbing sleepiness pulling at your mind.

“I'm yours,” he gritted out, in between strokes, like a mantra. “Get it into your pretty head that I'm yours. That I only want you. For the rest of my life,” he breathed out the final part. “I'm gonna—” and with a wildly erotic growl you felt him swell inside you before his release flowed into you, his body too sensitive to handle the high for too long.

Once he was done, there was nothing but spent, panting bodies, your hand in his hair as you helped him calm down.

“Are you feeling better, little fox?” he asked, taking your joined hands and bringing your knuckles to his lips. “If we swapped roles for a day, you the idol and I the normal person, I don't think I would be able to face it like you do.”

With your eyes closed, you waited for him to pull the two of you on your sides, your head on his chest, legs tangled together as he rubbed his feet against yours lazily and lasciviously.

“I know you don't like feeling jealous and I'm sorry that I made you feel that. You always say it's part of my job and you're understanding, but we both know it's hard to stop these emotions from happening.”

You nodded, inhaling his scent, so deeply mixed with yours. “It's worth it though. Because of the man you are, and what you mean to me.”

He kissed your head.

“I need to clean up. I want to sleep with you.”

He nodded. You were both more than happy to cancel the date and just sleep in, wrapped up in light sheets on the late September day.

Once washed and ready for sleep, Namjoon found your perfect position, your right hand in his left one as he toyed with your ring, pushing it around. Even though he had proposed, he knew the wait would be long. Still, he tried. “How much time left?” he asked, the question a cliché between the two of you by now. You always knew what it meant to him.

“A while,” you replied — your usual answer.

He nodded and pulled you closer. “Sleep tight, baby fox.”

“Sleep tight, big bear.”

[epicene-humanoid]

some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

[fuck-customers]

A fuck managers/store owners:

At my former job at a Midwest fast food chain, I had just been promoted to shift leader like 3 months previous to this incident.

At night, part of my job was to clean the pass through where we put hot food so it could then be bagged up front. It had this large tray part that lifted out and a set of tongs that fitted into it. After cleaning it would be put back for the morning. I always put the tongs back with it bc to me, it was just a part of the pass through.

The GM and owner (who were frequently in store) had this big thing about bringing any issues up to them right away instead of letting it fester. But.

For three months, I did my close the same and they never commented on anything being done wrong. Then, they had a store wide meeting in which they called me out and ranted for 10 full minutes about how the tongs for the pass through weren't meant to be put back, and that we were expected to follow procedures, and were held to a high standard etc etc. They behaved as if I was willfully and repeatedly defying them in something major. They never ONCE mentioned that I was doing anything wrong. It was humiliating and infuriating. The hypocrisy too!

This was only one of many, many ridiculous incidents at this place. The GM and store owner were sisters and the owner was very manipulative and gaslit me all the time. Of course the GM believed her over me bc they were sisters. :/

[sassyhobbits]

for one night standards would you write a scene where aelin cant be found in the castle maybe bc shes doing sth ridiculous with her daughter like a mother daughter photoshoot to surprise rowan with later but when rowan can't find her he gets all panicked and out of his mind bc he still has unresolved trauma from when she was kidnapped and its all angsty until he has both back in his arms but also gives rowan a chance to talk and work through his experience with aelin gone? (because lets face it he probably ignores his feelings about that as much as possible in order to not burden aelin further and because it was just too painful)

loved this idea!!! i also added the prompt “Because I know when I open my eyes this will all turn out to be a dream and I’ll lose you again“ Thank you to everyone who supported ONS!! i had such a fun time writing it and im always happy to come back to it. enjoy!!

~~~

Rowan Whitethorn was generally a patient man.

He knew how to wait his turn, to take his time. He was always one to raise a brow at those who seemed to be in a harried rush to everything. It seemed stressful, to say the least. He was perfectly content to sit back when needed.

Except for now.

He had made a trip back home to Doranelle to surprise Isolde for her graduation from her masters program. Aelin had wanted to come as well, but with the baby and the responsibilities she had back in Orynth, it just hadn’t worked out. Still, she sent her well-wishes to Isolde through a video chat, letting little Eliora babble into the camera and say hello as well.

Their daughter was just over six months now, already growing far too fast for Rowan’s liking. He treasured every moment he got to spend with his two favorite girls.

And although he was always happy to see his family back in Doranelle, it had been the longest he had been away since Eliora had been born. It made him highly impatient to return home.

His jet touched down in Terrasen in the early afternoon. It was summer, though the day was mild. The sky was a vivid blue, fat white clouds floating lethargically on the breeze. Absolutely beautiful.

Due to the time difference, he hadn’t been able to call Aelin before he had got on the plane. He tried to reach her as he slid into the dark sedan that would drive him from the airport to the palace, but all he got was her voicemail.

Maybe she was in the shower, or changing Eliora’s diaper. Maybe their daughter had a finicky night of sleeping and now the pair were trying to catch up on their slumber. It was fine. Or so Rowan told himself. He still hadn’t been able to stop the small clench of nerves at the pit of his stomach.

He scolded those foolish feelings. Of course his wife and daughter were safe. They were just waiting for him to return.

The drive was quick and easy and he was back at the palace before he knew it. His feet carried him towards the room he shared with Aelin, a small smile curling on his lips as he thought about having his wife and daughter in his arms once more. He missed the feeling of Aelin curled against him as they slept.

“Aelin?” he called, pushing into their room and nudging the door shut behind him. “I’m home.”

He was greeted by nothing but silence. No sound of running water in the bathroom to suggest a shower, so soft snores or shifting sheets meaning a nap. He strode into the bedroom, finding that the bed was already neatly made, not a thread out of place.

He dropped his bags by the dresser, noting that Aelin’s phone had been left there, face up. He picked it up, seeing that she still had the notification of a missed call from him and a few miscellaneous emails that hadn’t been checked.

“Aelin?” he said again, moving towards the nursery. He had gotten used to the sight of Aelin sitting in the rocking chair with Eliora, either when the babe was hungry or she just wanted to hold her daughter. Rowan had countless pictures on his phone of the two of them in that position. The sunlight streamed from the window and hit them just right in the mornings, making them look like a painting.

But the nursery was empty and the window was shut.

Those nerves reared their ugly heads once more. He had no reason to assume the worst, the palace was one of the safest places in the kingdom.

But… Aelin had once been snatched away from him on palace grounds. During their own wedding.

Rowan shook himself. No. That was the past. This was now.

Since his wife didn’t have her phone, he knew it would be fruitless to try and contact her that way. But, Rowan knew Aelin better than he knew himself.

He began a sweep of the palace, checking out her favorite haunts. The library was a bust, so was the gym. He had checked the kitchens to see if she had swooped in for a snack or something sweet, but she wasn’t there either. Rowan luckily ran into Aedion, asking the prince if he knew where Aelin was. But her cousin hadn’t seen her at all that morning.

With each failed attempt at finding them, Rowan’s fears steadily crept up. It wouldn’t be much longer before they had wrapped themselves around his throat and pulled him deep into their depths.

He took a long breath to center himself before striding out into the gardens. His heart started beating faster, not seeing any sign of her at first. Rowan’s fingers curled into tight fists as he stepped over fresh, green grass. Gods, where were they? If something had happened to them…

But before Rowan’s fears could conquer him, he heard a soft voice on the summer breeze. A familiar voice at that. Relief washed through him, heavenly and soothing, as he followed that melodic sound.

It was Aelin. It didn’t take him long to realize that she was reading one of Eliora’s favorite books to her. It was a silly tale, and it was made even more vivid when Aelin told it. She was an excellent story-teller. They didn’t know how much Eliora really understood, whether she just liked the brightly colored pictures or the faces her mother would make when she told it. Regardless, it always made the little princess smile.

Rowan rounded a hedge, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight before him.

Aelin had spread out a large quilt under the shade of a willow. Some of Eliora’s toys were scattered about, but currently, the toddler sat in her mother’s lap, wide-eyes glued on the book before her.

Rowan couldn’t help but think Aelin looked stunning today. Her golden hair was left loose, swaying on the breeze, the summer sun bringing a healthy flush to her cheeks. She wore a silky, pale blue wrap-dress, bare feet tucked beneath her as she read. Eliora looked mighty charming too in a bright pink dress with a matching bow.

Rowan strolled towards them, Aelin’s eyes jumping towards him as she noticed his presence. A huge smile broke out on her stunning face.

“You’re home!” she greeted, putting the book she had been reading aloud down. Eliora, no longer entertained by her mother’s storytelling, crawled over the quilt to grab one of her brightly colored toys. “I thought you were going to call me when you landed?”

“I did, Fireheart,” Rowan said. He lowered herself behind Aelin on the blanket, his wife situated between his legs, before wrapping his arms tightly around her and tugging her back into his chest securely. “You left your phone in our room.”

Rowan placed a lingering kiss on Aelin's shoulder, breathing in her scent deeply. She was safe, in his arms, Eliora happy as can be, sticking her toys in her mouth. Everything was fine.

Aelin turned in his arms slightly, brows knitted slightly. Rowan knew she could see right through him.

“What is it, Ro?”

“It’s nothing, love.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at him, as if to say, Don’t you lie to me, Buzzard.

Rowan heaved a sigh, reaching out and brushing some of Aelin’s silky hair behind her ear. “It’s just… you didn’t answer me when I called, and I couldn’t find you and Eliora when I got back. I just couldn’t help but think…” His hand drifted until it rested on Aelin’s abdomen, right over the scar she bore from fighting her way to freedom. He saw understanding on his wife’s face.

“We’re here, Rowan. We’re safe.” She placed a gentle hand on Rowan’s cheek, bringing his gaze towards her.

“I know,” Rowan whispered, jaw clenched. “But sometimes, I just worry that when I open my eyes, this will all turn out to be a dream. And I’ll lose you all over again.”

Aelin took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “This is real, Rowan. We both fought for this life, for each other. And nothing, nothing, is going to take it away. Ever.”

Rowan saw the determination blazing in Aelin’s eyes. She was right, of course. This was their life now, they had built their happiness bit by bit, even when so much seemed to want to go wrong. But Aelin and Eliora… they were everything to him. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to banish his fears entirely, but he would treasure every moment he spent with them.

Rowan leaned in, kissing Aelin softly before murmuring against her lips, “I missed you.”

She smiled, kissing him again. “I missed you too, Ro.”

They indulged in a few more slow, sweet kisses before loud babbling sounded, tiny hands twisting into Rowan’s trouser. He looked down, finding Eliora’s wide eyes looking up at him, flashing a gummy smile.

Aelin laughed. “It looks like someone else missed you, too.”

Rowan grinned, reaching out and picking up his daughter. He held her up high, making her release the sweetest little laughs, little legs kicking in delight. He kissed Eliora all over her little face before tucking her in one arm, throwing the other around Aelin. Immense love and devotion flowed through him, holding his two girls close.

No wonder why he had been so impatient to get home.