#thoughts from the mountaintop | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starsforxavi · 22 days ago

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unexpected visit ⁘ sylus

·······•✦ description: In which: Your unexpected visit to Sylus' penthouse reveals a side of him you never knew, a side that he wished to always keep hidden because he was a monster. At least, that's what he told himself. But you never thought of him that way, and you want to prove it.

·······•✦ pairing: dragon!sylus x afab!reader ·······•✦ word count: 3.1k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Walking In On Someone, Dragon!Sylus, Well more like Hybrid, Mentions of his lore, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Horns, Grinding, Cowgirl Position, Missionary Position, Voice Kink, Praise Kink, Words of Affirmation, Horns as Handlebars, Mentions of Aftercare, Creampie, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, POV Second Person, No use of y/n

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

You never thought it would be possible to sneak up on the famed Onychinus boss… His guard was completely down, back turned to the doorway as you pushed it open with a slow hand. His scales glittered a beautiful black with an undertone of red under the lights of his bedr-

Scales?

The gasp you let out alerted Sylus, and then you caught sight of his blazing red eyes. They seemed brighter than normal, matching the intense red crackling beneath the surface of the black scales. It was only but a moment that you saw the adornments along his spine before his bare chest was in your vision.

You had seen him shirtless many times, touched along the warm skin from above and below, but the way your jaw dropped slightly sent a shiver through Sylus’ spine. A hint of fear edged into his vision, his throat bobbling with unspoken words.

It took only a quick clear of his throat for him to steel his expression, lips curling into a smirk. Though the look in his eyes gave away the hint of nervousness. He could hide himself again, but it was painful. Retracting his scales and horns took energy, something he had learned how to do over millennia.

“I didn’t-” he cleared his throat again, legs carrying him until he was almost right in front of you, “expect you this early, sweetie.” His words stuttered slightly, the divet between his pecs throbbing slightly. Even though he didn’t want to remember, his body remembered…

“I was eager to see you.” The smile on your face was genuine, eyes sparkling under the dim light of his bedroom. “I am eager to see you.” There was a beat of silence, and then you danced your fingers up his arm, wrapping it around his neck. “Do you want to tell me?”

The softness conveyed everything you needed to say. It’s okay if you don’t want to say anything. Your eyes gazed into his, seeing the raging inferno calm into a gentle bonfire. There was no fear in your irises, only the love that you had harbored for so long.

“It’s just…” He sighed, his eyes flickering down to your lips as he gripped your waist. His touch seared into your skin, and you swore you could see his silver hair twisting into tiny horns. “I’m a monster, sweetie. I have horns and scales. It’s a sight for sore eyes.”

“Can I see them?” Ignoring his words to tear himself down, you ran your fingers through his hair. The unmistakable hitch in his breath gave him away. “The horns… And the scales.”

The tips of your fingers danced between his shoulder blades, edging along a hard shell almost as if you were touching bone. It was interesting, the way the hardness seemed soft in its own way. Armor guarding him from harm.

There was a hesitation in his eyes, his smirk still plastered on his face. The chuckle he let out was soft, and in the small space between you, his warmth wrapped around you. He trusted you with every ounce of his soul, but he also knew how others looked at him. You, however, weren’t like the others. You never were.

“Are you sure?” He sighed, eyes closing as your fingers delivered a gentle massage to his shoulders. The reminders of the wings he once had, the freedom he experienced kissing the mountaintops with you in his arms… He missed it. “Once you see me like that, you can’t go back.”

With a chuckle, you brought him down to press a kiss to his lips. It was chaste, your mouths slotting together perfectly before you pulled away just enough to speak. With your nose brushing his, you smiled.

“I’ll love you in every form.” The hand on the back of his neck moved to his jaw, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. “I fell in love with your soul. Your looks are just a bonus.”

A true laugh burst out from his chest, eyes crinkling shut for a moment. His hands settled on your hips, his grip tight as if he didn’t want to let you go. It was impossible to let you go. To let you go would be to lose a part of himself. His heart soared at your words, knowing you felt the same connection. You remembered the same connection. Even if your brain didn’t, your heart did.

“Well, I’m glad you at least like my looks.” The smile faded just a bit, his eyes flickering between yours before capturing your lips in another kiss. That one was more intense than the last but not overwhelming. His deep breaths filled his lungs, groaning into your mouth as he pulled you closer.

When he parted, he kissed the edges of your lips, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’ve already seen my back. I guess it’s time for you to see it all.”

Stepping back, there was a silence as he turned away from you. The scales were the same black color, with a soft glisten under the light. Beneath them, a light red glow had the skin around it bathed in a hue.

Then, those same scales spread across his wide shoulders. It was like a suit of armor settling on his body, the outline intriguing and beautiful at the same time. They went down his arms but stopped at his fingers.

Before you could ask if he had claws, you gasped as you looked up at him. Very noticeable dark horns sprouted up from his silver hair. It framed his face, and you knew to others it would be scary, but you were excited. Yes, he was different, but he was still the attractive Sylus you met and fell for.

“So, do you think I’m a mon- mmph!”

You cut off his question with a kiss. It was desire-filled and desperate, wanting to assure him that you loved him. You still wanted him, even after seeing that. As if it were an ultimatum. Your steps pushed him back until he hit the bed, sitting down.

“Sit against the headboard.” You said, watching as he settled on the sheets. The grey sweatpants were low on his hips, giving you a peek at the small trail of hair from his navel. His hair was disheveled, and his chest was flushed dark.

Wide eyes watched you strip down to your underwear, climbing onto the bed and situating yourself in his lap. You wanted him, but you also wanted to make sure he knew how much you loved him.

“Can I touch you?” Your hands hovered over his arms, feeling heat radiating from the dark adornments.

“Yes, please.” It was a whisper of a response, his eyes locked onto your face. Oh, how he itched to read your expression. He was normally so in tune with your body, but the way you gazed at his horns and the scales, he wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, and heat immediately seared into your skin. He was hot, in the literal sense, but it didn’t hurt. If anything, it only added to the intensity of the warmth inside you—a fire that burned eternally, only stoked by the raging heat from your lover beneath you.

“Sweetie,” He started, his muscles flexing as you traced the line of scales. They were surprisingly nice to touch, gliding along each one until you reached his shoulders. It was reminiscent of wings, and while you wanted to prod more with questions, you settled on silence. “I need you.”

“You’re not a monster, Sylus.” His statement caused your hips to stutter against his, the bulge pressing against your core only covered by your panties. The silver hair was soft under your fingers, and you massaged his scalp until you touched the hard, bone-like horns.

His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he fought back a groan. The grip he had on your hips tightened, pinky fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. He was desperate, but he also wanted to let you speak.

“Sensitive?” You teased, wrapping your hand around one of his horns. It was a lewd image, one that had your body trembling. A small surge of electricity shot through you, and you leaned down, your clothed breasts flattening against him. He could feel your hard nipples through the padding, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Y-” he swallowed again, his ears flushing deeper red as he tried to collect his thoughts. “Yes…”

Another groan - louder and slightly higher pitched - fell from his lips, eyes closing. If it weren’t for the hold on his horn, his head would have his the wall behind him. But you held on, tightening your grip. To see him so vulnerable, so pliant under your hands as he bared his soul to you…

Your lips found his in a messy kiss, head tilting to deepen it. Tongues danced to their own rhythm, and your hips did the same. Grinding down on his lap, then nipping at his bottom lip… It was an art to the way you kissed him. It all came naturally, as if you had been doing it for centuries.

A hand pushed down Sylus’ sweatpants, freeing his leaking cock that had already dampened the fabric. That own hand also moved your panties to the side, exposing your soaked pussy to the cool air. Sylus groaned into your mouth, guiding his tip along your folds.

Your whimper was caught in his throat, knees pushing you up until his head was nestled right inside your entrance. The stretch was delicious already, feeling yourself accommodate his thickness. With a hand on his horn and the other on the warm scales of his shoulder, you let yourself sink down.

Both of you moaned at the intensity, his hips sitting flush against yours. His cock twitched with each slow graze of his scales or horns, fingers threading through his hair and dancing between the dark protrusions.

“I love you so much, beautiful.” He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. It wasn’t just a statement for the moment, the way his cock buried so deep inside you, tightening around him with each pulse of your pussy. The statement was meant for every single moment for the rest of his life.

“I love you too, Sylus.” Your hips shifted, body stuttering as his cock pressed against the most sensitive spot inside you. “So much… So, so much.”

Each movement sent shocks running through both of you. With your hands anchored on his shoulders, the thick vein of his cock dragged along your walls as you rode him. It was slow and intimate, eyes locked on each other.

Questions popped up, but were immediately wiped away with the desperate rutting on his cock. That could wait until you were finished. Literally. Now, all you needed was Sylus to know how much you loved him.

“You’re so - ah - hot,” you whined, bouncing faster on him. Each time you clenched your pussy around his cock, his hips bucked, pushing himself deeper and deeper. He was uncontrollable, like he was in heat and just needing release. “You’re still, fuck, Sylus.”

Just Sylus…

He was just Sylus.

Sylus’ hands pressed against your back, holding you closer to him. With his feet planted on the bed, he turned onto his side and then, eventually, let you rest comfortably against the sheets. His body enveloped yours, cock still nestled inside you.

With the new position, he struggled to get rid of his sweatpants, eventually taking them off and throwing them to the side. His hands held your waist with a tender touch, his eyes roaming over your body before settling on your face. When he spoke again, it was with a gentle voice.

“Panties off?” That would mean he would have to pull out, and while he was desperate to stay buried inside your tight heat, he would do whatever you asked.

“Just fuck me, Sylus.” As soon as he leaned down to capture your lips, you ran a hand through his hair, gliding your fingers along his horn while the other pressed between his shoulder blades.

It was like his spine was stronger, harder beneath your fingertips. You wondered what it would be like to give him a massage, touching along every small scale that decorated the wide expanse of his back.

Sylus’ hips continued their slow rolls, teasing you with just enough to have cut-up moans echoing from your lips while not enough to bring you one step closer to ecstasy. In truth, Sylus loved hearing your voice; the poetic way you strung together your words sounded like a symphony to him every time.

“Keep talking,” he said, the sentence halfway between a command and a plea. His whole body was hot, molten lava bubbling in his chest, and he could almost feel the pulsing of the ruby that was once laid between his pecs.

“Fuck, o-okay,” swallowing the lump in your throst, you wrapped your legs around his waist. Low whimpers came each time he touched a new part of your body.

“I love the - hhng - way you t-tou-ch me.” his left hand gripped your breast, thumb flicking your nipple.

Despite the bursts of pleasure, you continued. “Love your - ah - horns… How - fuck - sens-itive you ah are,” you could barely keep your eyes open, your pupils halfway obscured by your eyelashes.

Sylus picked up his pace, his right hand pressing against your lower abdomen. He could feel each thrust of his cock, his tip kissing his palm. The only wall between the two is the flesh of your stomach.

“Keep - ah fuck - going,” Sylus breathed out, leaning his body down so he could press a kiss to your lips. You were irresistible to him. He would never get tired of seeing you, hearing you, feeling you, tasting you.

“You- are- not- a- monster-” each of your words was cut off with a moan, his hips clapping against yours. Your breath mingled with his, noses brushing together as you stared into each other’s eyes.

His eyes were the windows to his soul, which was yours. Everything of his was yours. Every material thing, every emotional thing, every spiritual thing. Anything that had his name on it was also yours. No question.

“Your eyes are—ah—gorgeous,” it was a ghost of a whisper, your lips finding his in a clash of tongue and teeth. The kiss wasn’t even an actual kiss, just a desperate attempt to get even closer to one another.

His cock throbbed, twitching inside you with each compliment that came from your heart. You meant every word… You knew that. Sylus knew that. He gave you his everything, and you did the same in return. Though he would never ask anything of you.

Sylus was content being alone, knowing he would never find you again, but fate has a way of reconnecting two lost souls. Just as you did before, you thundered your way into his life, showing him his true purpose.

He felt it in every tender love-making session in bed, and the feral fucking that happened in bathrooms or his car. There was love in fucking and there was also carnal desire in affection. You were the balances that forced the other to a happy medium. Two sides of the same coin and owners of each others’ soul.

“You’re gorgeous.” He panted, thumb finding your clit and rubbing quick circles. “So- so- gorgeous.” As you tightened around him, his hips stuttered, the heat surrounding him and filling every ounce of his being becoming too much.

Your hips bucked up to meet his, finding the right amount of friction as he repeated the word gorgeous against your lips. He would never miss the chance to shower you in compliments, making sure you knew just how perfect you were.

“Is my pretty girl gonna - ha - cum for me?” The hand not stroking your clit held the back of your neck, his lips slotting perfectly against yours.

He knew you were getting close. He was more attuned to your body than anything else. Your rhythm, your touch, every bump and dip in your skin. If all his senses were taken away from him, he would still be able to feel your presence. His soul was at peace when you were around.

“Yes, fuck… Yes.” You panted, eyes threatening to close. Each time you blinked slowly, he pinched your clit, pulling whine after whine from your lips. “God, Sylus.”

“Say my name, pretty girl.” He purred, his eyes locked on yours as he pistoned his cock right against your sweet spot. Stars danced behind your eyes, jaw stuck open in a perpetual moan that was stuttered with each thrust.

“Sy- ah- Sylus!”

Your high crashed over you before you could say anything else, legs locking around his waist. Each wave of pleasure caused your pussy to pulse around him, coaxing him further and further until barely seconds after you came, he was slowing down.

His cock twitched, shooting load after load inside you until his body slowly lost strength. The muscles in his back and legs tensed, and he lowered himself until he was laying completely on top of you.

At the awkward angle, you felt him slip out of you, a small trickle of his release dripping from your hole. His chest pressed against yours, face nuzzling into your neck as he breathed in gentle sighs. He made sure not to hurt you with the horns, feeling them press against the headboard behind you.

“I love you, Sy.” You whispered to him, letting his lips carve a path along your shoulder and neck. His legs were intertwined with yours, hands tapping up and down your torso.

“I love you too, beautiful.” The mumbled words fan across your skin, bringing a smile to your face as you carded your fingers through his silver hair. “Thank you…” He started, closing his eyes. “For not viewing me as a monster.”

You didn’t remember the past, the heartache he faced, and the light you brought into his life. His light was back. The person who taught him how to be, how to love, and how to lose.

“You will never be a monster to me.” You leaned down enough to press a kiss to his forehead. “I will always love you, no matter what.”

There was a beat of silence as you listened to each other’s hearts and the way they complemented each other, the way they completed each other.

“Now, can we clean up?” You chuckled, running your hand up and down the scales of his spine. “As much as I love feeling these,” the touch on his spine is light, “I really don't want to ruin the sheets with your cum and wake up with sticky thighs.”

Sylus laughed again, a loud laugh that rumbled through his chest and had your heart soaring through the clouds. Sitting up on his elbows, he looked down at you, eyes glowing red with adoration and pure love.

“Let’s clean up then, beautiful.”

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jaggedamethyst · 3 months ago

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tandem

alternate timeline jayce talis x f!reader

content: after an explosion, jayce is sure he’s somehow rewinded time and saved you. instead, he’s been transported to a new timeline—one where he’s dead.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected p in v, soft sex, edging if you squint, oral (f!receiving bc jayce is a munch in my head), a single spank lmao, angst, canon typical hextech danger, mentions of death, mental health, character death, jayvik is real so if you think im implying something…im not…they loved each other your honor. thats a fact. not proofread im too lazy.

word count: 6.2k

notes: omg…my longest one shot so far (I think) enjoy!! i’ll be back soon (maybe) with more but this is a one shot don’t ask me for anymore i can’t be extending everything into multiple parts bc yall are GREEDY!!! (with love of course)

- amethyst 💟

main masterlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You refused to say or acknowledge that Jayce was dead. That couldn’t be true. The man that you’d grown to love wouldn’t be so careless as to step into a battle field and sacrifice himself to stop his lab partner. No, you thought, the Man of Progress would never. The accomplished scientist wouldn’t have—knowing the variables of such an action—leave you. Not deliberately.

Time was insanely delicate and Jayce always said as much. There was never a second to spare, a minute to waste. Yet, it felt that since he’d made such an inconsiderate choice—you were forced to watch yourself drain entirely.

You were never good at telling time. Sure, you could glance at an analog clock and decipher the hour and minute hands’s significance. The passage of time, however, was a struggle.

“Okay, I should be back in about an hour. Is that okay?” You would always assure Jayce, despite both of you knowing it would take you longer.

He’d humor you every time. “That’s perfect. I’ll be here when you get back.” Always with a warm smile, before turning to his work—always his work.

You weren't good at telling time, but you knew it’d been a long time since you last saw him. Even longer since you held him, felt his scent whip past you in a persistent breeze. You’d recounted the last time you saw him so vividly in your mind—physically kneeled over in distress at a mountaintop. The thought of running to him, saving him, had crossed your mind and left it just as quickly as it appeared. You figured that of all people he’d be safe with Viktor; Jayce loved him. How shocked you'd been to realize that maybe it wasn’t reciprocated—that maybe Viktor had hated Jayce. So much so that he’d take him away. In fact, maybe it was you that he despised. That he smiled at the thought of ripping Jayce from your grasp. Every thought swelled in your mind, the only way to make sense of the inexplicable.

At the end of the day, you weren't there. Standing at the base of all of the destruction meant you weren’t there, but a distance away from them. Perhaps this was the only way they could commit themselves to each other as partners, them and only them.

So, you’d been left out, and every day you craved being loved so intensely as to die together.

You shrugged the thought off, cleaning up Jayce’s forge for him. Wiping the dust and sweeping away the mess was your own way of maintaining it for him—since he’d have to return at some point. Busying yourself with organizing his workbooks took the most time. He was so sporadic; he would doodle and scribble with no rhyme or reason. He would leave tools just out of his grasp, but littering the floors that had now become impossible to walk on.

I have to make this perfect, you’d think. For him.

So you did. Every week you would commit to tidying his space. What started as an intense job seemingly dwindled in necessity. Eventually, there wasn’t much left to do. The realization that there was truly not much reason to be here hurt so bad. The only part of Jayce left had again been taken from you—and it was your own fault.

Without thinking, a few months passed. So much had occurred that you let the thought of Jayce come less frequently despite the pain in your chest lingering consistently. He’d still appear, though, fluttering through your brain in flurries that left you sobbing.

That’s how he found you—crying in his noticeably changed workspace.

Jayce scrambled to you, ignoring your hunched over form. The awkward positioning of you sitting down, leaning on your knees and into your hands didn’t matter to him. He let his arms yank you toward his chest before you could even register his presence.

“My god,” he spoke into your neck. A hand rubbed up and down your back. You froze at the contact. Not only did you not hear anyone come in, you were sure this was a dream. In spite of your adamance to never indulge in shimmer—there was no other explanation that found you. Surely this pressure was your imagination. There was no way the familiar smell of Jayce swelled around you. Not after all this time.

He noticed your stiffened body and pulled back. His eyes looked between your own; there was a familiarity that instantly broke him.

You spoke through his tears, clawing at his shirt now. “I don’t understand—how?”

“I made a mistake. Like I always do.”

“No,” you shook your head. “Not a mistake.” You attempted to correct him. How could something that bought Jayce back to you be a mistake?

“One minute I was…I’d been helping Heimerdinger.” He nodded, assuring himself. “The next I’m here.” He paused before whispering. “God, I thought I lost you.”

You shook your head, mind immediately rushing to a similar thought. “I thought you were gone for good. That Viktor-“

“Viktor? What happened to Viktor?”

You froze, taken aback by his question. An event that was so tormenting for you hadn’t even been of significance to him? Had he not remembered his own death? More importantly, did he not recall the inherent pain of it being at the hands of his partner?

Examining him left you to pick up on details you didn’t at first. The last time you’d seen Jayce, you thought, he wasn’t himself. In the fleeting moments of imagery in your mind, his hair had grown—facial hair as well. His crooked smile had been riddled with cracks of dryness. The shoulders you once loved, that would stand tall, now slumped in determination. All of these things weren’t like the Jayce in front of you.

Wrinkles and dark rimmed eyes were nowhere to be found as you looked back at the man. Slowly, you reached up to cup his face.

“You’re not him, are you?”

Jayce’s face twisted. You watched his eyes flicker down and light up in recognition, or rather lack thereof. Your clothes weren’t the same as they were just a moment ago.

Your question echoed in his mind, and he realized that no… he wasn’t him. He was Jayce, of course, but not yours.

Your fingers pulled back, relinquishing the relief you’d felt. Moving to stand was a battle of its own. Somehow you tricked yourself into thinking the man you loved had returned to you. It was foolish, really.

“No, please-“ Jayce reached out. He looked down at you, confusion riddling your gaze. “Please don’t leave.”

“This is just like you.” You deliberately avoided eye contact, a sincere smile creeping up on your face. “You’ve always been so smart. The smartest man I know.” Wringling your hands, you continued. “Makes sense Jayce Talis of all people would find a way to clone himself.” You paused briefly, finally looking at him, “And I’m guessing this is because of Hextech?”

A nod. You knew it.

“Do you hate it as much as she did? My work?”

She. You figured that there would be another you out there—hoped she’d been important to him.

“I don’t hate your work.” You spoke quickly. “Odds are, neither does she. But look at you,” a hand panned up and down his body quickly. “Look where you are. I think we have a right to be cautious of what it can do. What you can do.”

It was him who sat then, letting his knees buckle. “You should be--cautious, I mean. Hell…you should be scared.” An image of the last thing he saw flashed in his mind—you lying still on the floor. Blood seemed to drip from your head and seeped into your clothes. It was his fault. He hadn’t kept you safe. He hadn’t done a proper job at telling you the risks, he thought. So when you arrived with a warm smile, and was met with an explosion—Jayce could only blame himself. His version of you had been so eager to check on him, as she always did. If only she’d known how volatile Hextech could be.

You watched tears appear in his eyes. Even now, knowing that this wasn’t your Jayce Talis, you couldn’t see him in pain. More importantly, you couldn’t separate the love you had for him.

“I’m not scared.” You kneeled down and reached your hand out again. This time you didn’t marvel at the man, but comforted him. Letting the pad of your thumb fall just under his eye—you wiped away the single falling tear that had appeared. “I couldn’t ever be afraid of you.”

You’d always been so in synch and the same was true now. The rise and fall of your chests mimicked one another. His hands snaked up, too, gripping your forearms as they brushed against him. Slowly, he made his way up to fold his hands into yours and squeezed. Both of you knew, without saying, that there was an undeniable magnetism.

Your eyes flickered between his facial features—all so independently beautiful despite them working together to make his perfect face. He watched your stares in admiration. Even with his version of you, he would let your eyes trail over him. You knew that he was aware and yet the two of you let it go unspoken. The similarity of your action made the distinction slip away; there was no other Jayce or other you…only both of you here, right now.

You spoke softly first, “I missed you…so damn much.”

He held onto your hands still, “I only lost you for a second and even that was too long.”

Both of you moved slowly, savoring the moment. After all, it could be gone in an instant.

The brush of his lips over yours caused your breath to leave you entirely. A warm breath flew into you as Jayce parted his mouth, working on a lip of yours at a time. You returned the soft pressure with a similar vigor—gasping at him sucking on your lips.

Allowing yourself this pleasure felt wrong. Sure, he was Jayce—but you knew that he’d never be yours entirely. The thought caused you to break, pushing Jayce away.

A hand covered your mouth, a gasp escaping you. “We shouldn’t.”

“But-“

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He licked over his lips in embarrassment and lowered his head. He nodded, silently running his hands up and down his pant legs.

You continued, breaking the silence. “We should get you home. That should be our focus.”

“Focus,” he repeated plainly. “Right—home it is.”

But for him, home was pain. To be home was to acknowledge the euphoria he felt levitating in his office to only have you be lifeless the second later. Returning to his timeline meant jumping back into his pursuit of progress—upholding an image he wasn’t quite sure he could fulfill. Being back there meant he had to face you, the remains of you.

You went to stand, wiping your face clear of the daze simultaneously. “This is everything you—that he left here. Feel free to use it.” You circled a nearby table, adjusting a book that wasn’t quite in place. “It was a mess before…figured I should tidy it up a bit. Sorry if it’s not exactly how you’d like it.”

Jayce followed you, examining the oddly neat assortment of writing, sketches, and tools. He looked down at you and held your gaze on him, “It’s perfect.”

You nodded silently—a fulfillment in you at the thought that you’d done this right. “I’m gonna go.” You quickly broke the eye contact and stepped out toward the door. “You know where to find me if you need anything?”

“Yeah.”

You quickly left without another word. Jayce and you would interact like that often in the weeks that followed. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not really. There was little room left for full conversation, rather longing stares and stolen glances from each of you when the other was trying to not pay attention.

Jayce was as he’d always been—consumed by his work. As much as Jaycee tried, you would always be second place to Hextech, possibly even third most after Viktor—but he made sure you were a close runner up.

Reluctance was the only feeling you knew these days. Inherently, you felt Jayce should go home—go back. It meant the presence of him would cease to exist again, though. As much as you wanted to do the right thing the yearn to have Jayce back was even stronger. You needed him here.

So you stuck with reluctance. A smile would stay plastered on your face, but inside you were aching every time you were asked for help. Jayce, Ekko, and Heimerdinger had somehow reunited here as well and insisted on working together to get to their respective timeline. On the outside you were the picture of a friend; you simply seemed willing to help with whatever they needed. Jayce could tell, though, that you weren’t okay. He knew you better than anyone—it proved to be a burden sometimes.

You busied yourself as you always did, finding something to clean around Jayce’s work area after they’d departed for the day. It went unsaid, but the knowledge that the disarray would be nonexistent by the next day fueled Jayce, Ekko, and Heimerdinger. The trio would work tirelessly for hours daily; the fatigue was apparent on each of them. The least you could do was straighten up the mess of the past few work days.

The sound of the door behind you creaking open and closing softly caught your attention. It didn’t stop your sweeping. You didn’t have to look to know it was Jayce—there was a certain rhythm about him. In instances where a drawer would open and slide shut in your peripheral, you could decipher whether it was him or not. The constant tapping of a pencil signified his concentration. A well timed shuffle always made his presence known. Even though he wasn’t the man you’d grown to know, the echoes of him lingered.

You weren’t sure if that made it hurt more or less.

“Please,” Jayce stepped closer to your turned back. “You don’t have to clean up after us.”

You shook your head, keeping your back facing him, “It’s okay. I want to help-“

“You’ve already done enough.” Jayce softly tugged on your arm, stopping your sweeping motions. “You do so much around here.”

Wiping a hand over your forehead, you nodded up at him. “Okay,” you sat the broom aside, “Okay—I’ll stop.”

“Good,” Jayce smiled at that, allowing his hands to drop from his hold on your arm. “You need the rest as much as any of us.”

“Well, you have been hard at work—and I’ve been the designated housekeeper.” You chuckled dryly, pinching in the sarcasm. Sitting in a nearby chair—you avoided eye contact—intentionally probing for information. “Speaking of—how’s it going? How much longer until you guys can get home?”

“I’m not in any rush.” Jayce glanced over at you, sitting across the table. He secretly had been pleading that you’d look at him. Somehow of everything, denying him the sight of you hurt him most. He continued with a whisper, “There’s nothing for me back there.”

Your head shook again, this time toward the floor. “I’m sure that’s not true.” He shrugged, without looking you knew he did. “And don’t give me any of that sad shit…you’re great at what you do and that’s why people look for you.” You squeezed your hands together before looking at him. He’d already been staring at you, holding a breath at you finally speaking more than a few words to him. “You have a lot to get back to, even if it’s not me.”

He stiffened at that, immediately remembering your body sprawled on the floor. He urged forward then. “Why don’t you understand how meaningless this all is without you there to see it?”

“Because I have seen it—beyond this.” A hand tapped the table without thought, “I’ve seen you…and I’ve seen Viktor…I saw this at the worst it could possibly be.” You paused and blinked frantically. “Despite all of that—regardless of how awful it feels to lose you…I know it’s worse for a timeline to not have you at all.”

Jayce shook his head, “I’m not that important—that significant.”

“You are and you have to know that.”

“How can you be so sure of that, of me?”

“Because everything good about the Jayce I knew exists in you.” Looking at him through this was a lifeline, a tether to the man you’d lost. He would never hear you uplift him again, so you could only make sure this Jayce knew. “I’ve never known a better person.”

Jayce’s eyes flickered down as they had before, tempting him with a sensation sweet enough to spur him on for days. The sweetness of your touch had been motivation enough to keep working. He thought, hoped, that somehow he could feel that again one day. His mind begged him to cross that line but he couldn’t.

“You’re like her, too, you know?”

“Stop-“ you smirked a bit.

“I’m serious. She’d probably say exactly what you said in this moment—I like the thought of you being the same in all timelines.” He looked away and spoke much quieter. “Makes me hopeful that we’ll always find our way to each other.”

Your body tingled, lit up by his words. There was an inherent need for him you couldn’t deny. The lack of difference made it hard for you to fight off the desire for him—to be held by him at the very least.

Unsure of which hand moved first, the two of yours somehow became interlocked. Jayce pulled you by your hand, allowing your chair to glide over to him. You watched as he lifted your hand and faintly kissed over your knuckles, then fingers. A second hand followed, holding your hand with a persistence that showed he’d never let you go. He nuzzled your ball of hands into his cheek, allowing his eyes to close at the feeling. Hesitating, you slowly let your other hand reach up to his face and wipe the strand of hair from his temple. You then mirrored his actions, pulling his hands toward you and softly pecking over them.

You let your hands fall between you—still interlocked. That familiar feeling of reluctance stabbed at you again, this time at the prospect of letting go of him, even if only for a second. He watched you, chest slowly rising and falling in time with yours.

He couldn’t bite his tongue any longer—not when he finally had the chance to say what he wanted to since he saw you.

Jayce whispered your name, “I’m so in love with everything about you.”

“Jayce-“

“I know,” he interrupted what he knew you would say. “I know you’re not her…that I’m not yours.” He inhaled with apprehension, scared by your eyes on him. “But could we forget…just for a while?”

You understood his perspective—the inability to see the person in front of you as different from who you knew. To be honest, you didn’t want to, not now. Biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded slowly.

“Yeah?” Jayce was stunned by your response, but refused to waste anymore time.

He pulled you in again, letting your chair glide closer to him as he slid off of his own. The softness with which Jayce let his hands run across your thighs, over your hips, and up your torso was nothing short of electric. He pleaded with you silently, a look that said he wanted to do everything—coax whatever he could from you. You’d never deny him.

Jayce rested his hands, stilling them in your lap. Him bowing his head surprised you—the sudden lack of eye contact specifically.

“I love you, you know?”

“You mentioned that-“

“I just wanted you to hear it again…understand,” you noticed the way his voice had dropped and slowed with every word. “Because you might forget in a few minutes…days…but I do.” He looked up at you again while simultaneously moving to take your shoes off, then to undo your pants. “I’ll never stop.”

He didn’t leave time for you to reply, swiping his fingers over the outside of your underwear. He blinked, enticed by the hisses you let out at the soft contact.

“Take these off.”

You stood and swiped the pile of your clothes further away. Looking down at him was a sight you hadn’t been blessed with in a while, it made you suppress the very adamant pulsing of your lower stomach. He maintained that eye contact, letting you slowly remove the last barrier between you.

“Sit down.” He tapped the chair—urging you to move faster.

Jayce hardly let you fully sit before grabbing your legs and lifting them on his shoulders. The sudden motion had you grasping at the table for stability—the urgency of his tongue knocking the wind out of you.

The sound of his name dripping from your lips could've made him cry, but he settled for you instead—his goal to have you completely unwound.

One of your hands landed on his head and clawed at his hair, searching for relief while he let his entire mouth open over you. The sensation bordered on painful but the twinge of sweetness kept you teetering on the edge of wanting more. The feel of your nails scratching over his scalp had Jayce right with you, a constant pain feeling comfortable for him but making him need you even more.

You looked down, not at all phased by the wrinkle in Jayce’s brows. He took everything seriously, needing to be the best at it. You’d never told him but he was. The way Jayce would mold his fingers into your skin and leave every inch of it burning was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The finesse with which he’d drop an inch or so down, torturing you with his constant sucking as his nose brushed over your clit at just the right tempo…it was as if he studied. There wasn’t a single person who could tell Jayce Talis that he wasn’t the best—truly golden—and he made sure of it.

“Jayce,” your voice dragged, fearful of the sounds he could elicit if you spoke any faster than this. “More…please.”

He considered slipping in his fingers, knowing you’d be throbbing around nothing about now, but decided against it. He was truly greedy in that way; he wanted to savor every drop of you for him fully.

“I will sweetheart,” he spoke into you, letting the vibration work you up. “I will…just be patient okay?”

You nodded with your eyes screwed shut, attempting to convince yourself that you could take a sensation so good but not exactly the release you needed.

He wanted to be softer with you, show how much he adored you, but simply couldn’t. Jayce was truly starved, kissing and licking over every crevice and inch of skin in front of him. The pressure had you shaking and sliding more off of the chair—the lack of handles not at all helping. You noticed your hands paling at your finger tips, grasping so hard on the table and him for stability.

“I’m-“ you hissed at the constant rubbing of Jayce’s nose over your clit. “I’m gonna fall.”

“Hm?” Jayce breathed into you, not paying attention to your body slowly finding less of the cushion of the seat underneath you.

“The chair…fuck…I can’t-“

He stopped abruptly, kissing at your shaking thighs before pulling away. He slid back on his knees and quickly searched around the room. He sucked on his teeth, not having found exactly what he was looking for…but he genuinely couldn’t care less. You watched him intently, craving the heat of him on you again. The feeling of yourself dripping, mixing with the cool air, allowed you a sort of reprieve. You missed the feeling of him, though, and he knew it.

Jayce shrugged, moving to undo his top few buttons on his shirt. He slid down, letting his back hit the floor. The movement was unashamed—without any hesitation.

He waved his hand, gesturing for you to get down from the chair. “Come here.”

You paused, so many questions and ideas hindering you from moving to him.

“I don’t care,” He knew what you’d say, try to get out of this. “Sit on me right now.”

You wanted to be conscious of him—how uncomfortable this could be. But when he was so adamant and looking at you the way he was…and when you remembered how your Jayce had made you feel…

“Fuck it.”

You slid down from the chair, at first settling comfortably over his clothed groin. He was begging to be free of the confines of his pants, and you would allow him the relief soon. How excited you would be to finally have him in you. The man was owed as much.

Using his shoulders for leverage, you trailed up him, letting the mix of him and his work glide over his chest. The distinction in his pecs made you hitch and pause, sensitivity catching up to you. Until now, Jayce had kept his hands away—fighting the urge to ignite you again. Physically he was strong but mentally he could be so weak. He couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

You didn’t bruise easily, but the strength with which he grasped you surely would leave marks on you for the coming days. He yanked you to him, nuzzling himself just between your thighs and left no space for you to move. He immediately started in on you, his groans muffled but you surrounding him.

He loved the warmth of you—in whatever way he could find it. This undoubtedly was his favorite, completely drowning in you. He would be okay if this was the last thing he ever did, it’d be okay to satisfy you with his very last breath.

You began to writhe on him, finding the apex of nose and letting that pierce into you. He felt you, moving his face up and circled to match you motion. You began to stutter your motions, overwhelmed by him hitting every spot in just the right way. He noticed you slowing, and instinctively swatted at your ass to keep you going.

He spoke, his voice stifled by the weight of you. “Don’t stop.”

You wouldn’t, couldn’t if you tried—the feeling was too good. Your fingers fidgeted, shockwaves running through you but the idleness becoming too much. A single hand reached over, the chair Jayce had been on becoming a lifeline. The other slid on your own thigh and peeled Jayce’s grip away. He let you guide him, sliding his had underneath your shirt and pushing your bra to an awkward angle but relieving some of the tension in your aching nipples.

“Should I-“ you interrupted yourself, overwhelmed by every sensation happening. “Can I?”

Your Jayce could be greedy, not wanting you to finish around anything but him. Not sure if the one beneath you was the same, you had to ask—you were on the precipice of eruption.

“Not yet…please?”

He sounded so sweet, so different from the feeling of him ravishing over you with every inch of his tongue and mouth.

“But I’m almost- I’m not gonna last.”

He slowed his motions, sucking and kissing over you as he pulled away and relaxed his neck. He tapped you, signaling for you to move back. You fumbled, shaking over the man. Jayce held you firmly, guiding you just beside him. He watched you lean on the leg of the table, your back finally resting.

Jayce sighed, the work area truly was quite desolate save for a few chairs and that wouldn’t do. He quickly undid the remaining buttons of his shirt before gingerly laying it out on the floor. His pants were next, finding their way into a ball and placed in a pile with your clothes. Inhaling, he looked at you and found you staring into space.

“You alright?” He was wary of your dazed look.

You didn’t let an extra second pass, immediately locking in at the sound of his voice. “I’m good…you?”

“The best.” He smiled, sliding his hand into yours. He kissed your hand again, ushering you toward the makeshift blanket and pillow he made for you.

Looking up at him made you feel the tether the two of you had. You smiled to yourself, realizing how true it had been, that you found each other in every universe. If you had any say you’d never let him go.

“I love you, you know?”

Jayce smiled at the recollection of his statement. Holding himself in his hand felt sickening, opposing how sweetly you sat beneath him. He huffed—unadulterated yearning shining at the tip as he began to leak for you.

He didn’t reply, not needing to. He did slide into you though, allowing you time to adjust to each additional inch he pressed into you. He could feel the tip of him hitting the spongey spot already. He lowered his head to your shoulder, overwhelmed by the heat emanating from your body.

You reached around, cradling his head and resting another hand on his back. The tension in his muscles persisted, flexing even more so as he began to pull in and out of you. He refused to move from you, loving the feeling of your skin on him from top to bottom. Jayce was slow…sweet in the way he pumped into you and held you simultaneously. Settling into your touch let him kiss all over your neck, ear, and shoulder. He’d even made a note to peck you over your temple and ease the creases the feel of him made on your forehead.

You were caught up in the moment, thoughts filling your mind of all the loss you’d experienced. This was enough for you now…but what about later? What happened when this was over?

Jayce continued his movements, writhing forward and back. You fought to let that be the only feeling that pierced your body but it was hard. You clutched him harder which made him only snap into you with a certain insistence.

Him hitting inside of you in repetition had you shaking, limbs locking at the overwhelming agitation. He kneaded at your legs again, squeezing you and sucking into your shoulder as he froze with you. Jayce would always finish alongside you, even forcing himself if he could. The traits of the sweet man you knew inherently found its way to your intimacy—him wanting to stand beside you through anything.

Despite how much quicker they’d been now, your chests still moved together. You gasped in between struggled inhales, trying to level your breathing.

Jayce pulled out of you, making both of you whine. He collapsed beside you, not at all caring that his bare body was splayed on the floor.

Without thinking you spoke quietly, looking toward the ceiling. “Please don’t leave me again.” A deep inhale from you resounded in the room, “Please.”

Jayce glanced to the side of him and looked at you, grimacing at your words.

The air between you shifted as Jayce turned his head. He looked away, shaking away a thought he clearly had.

You called out the indecision on his face, it boiling anxiety in you. “What?”

He sighed and turned his head to the distance, “The machine’s almost ready.” His hands found their way to his stomach, folding over it in apprehension. “Ekko says it should be a few days, if not sooner.”

You froze at that. You’d been so stupid.

“I’m sorry.” Jayce sat up to get a better look at you. “I didn’t mean...gosh, this is just awful timing.”

“No, it’s okay.” You nodded, “You deserve to get back home.”

The truth was that you’d been used to it—the feeling of being left behind. You prepared for this. So while it hurt for the days to pass by with an incomparable speed—you didn’t let it show, couldn’t.

The sight of Jayce working alongside Ekko and the professor was the hardest to endure. It seemed your mind tricked you into thinking every small action was him acting on a desire to leave you. An adjustment here, a calculation there—he was ready to make his escape. It was because of this you missed the way he looked at you. A somber aura surrounded the man and only worsened when you deliberately avoided him. Busying yourself hurt the both of you, and yet everything still went unaddressed.

Heimerdinger made work of some cables to the side of you before speaking up. “We should be good to go as soon as you all are ready.”

Ekko nodded, looking over at Jayce with a knowing look. With a flick of his head, he motioned to you. “Go ahead, talk to her.”

Without a word, Jayce nodded and stepped down to make his way to you.

“So, I guess…this is it?”

You nodded as you did often, “I guess it is.”

“I’m sorry…for how this happened.” He watched you turn your head away from him, hands coming up across your chest. “I want you to know that I meant everything.”

Your tongue pushed into the inside of your cheek, “I know.”

Jayce swallowed, not sure of what more to say. He settled for taking your hand in his, kissing over the back of your palm. The recollection of the gesture allowed you to smile, finally.

Heimerdinger interrupted the moment, “We should be going as soon as possible. This technology is fragile and we have one shot at it.”

You let your hand fall, pulling back from Jayce and turning toward Heimerdinger in a swift motion. Jayce turned, then, moving to stand beside Ekko on the platform.

You stood entranced by the sight of Jayce, and him by you. The two of you held eye contact, savoring what would surely be the last time you would see each other. Time was sweet now, passing in such slow progression that Jayce was awarded the view of you for just a bit longer. His brows furrowed suddenly, causing your head to snap to Heimerdinger.

Ekko called out in front of you, slowly lifting from the floor and levitating on the platform. “Heimerdinger, what are you doing?”

The sight of the scientist plugging in the machine gave you pause. He yelled over the whirring sound of the machine, “It has been a pleasure…to help you both get home.”

“Wait!”

Without a moment more, Heimerdinger swiftly pushed the plugs together—a ripple sending through the air. A blinding light flashed as the figure of the short scientist in front of you fizzled into thin air. The gust of wind and power knocked you off of your feet and across the room. The sound of the room dimmed, all feeling in your body hard to process. You head throbbed, rang. Trying to decipher how the explosion had occurred so fast left you weak. You physically couldn’t move. Yet, the room continued to swirl around you.

Jayce watched the orb forming around him, the web of the Hextech pulling him and Ekko further into the air. He was frantic, triggered by the sight of you hurt. There was blood. Her head, he thought. Gosh, her clothes. Not again.

He fought the technology, pulling himself toward you as hard as he could. Jayce ignored the calls of Ekko, who urged him to be careful. None of it mattered—only you.

Your hand shook, then, finally showing Jayce a sign of life. With every ounce of energy you had, you moved to lean up, a hand urging Jayce to stop. He watched you, hurt but alive, with tears brimming at his eyes. He could tell you were fighting, mustering what was left of you to crawl toward him.

He couldn’t hear you, but watched your head bob and your lips mouth to him.

“It’s okay.”

The webbed ball that floated above the room continued its movement and in a sudden whip, left the room completely black.

The prospect of Jayce, or the lack thereof finally became realized to you. Not once, but twice, he’d so quickly came and went. The pain was impossible to endure. You were thankful, though, that the ringing in your head came—even more so that it seemed to dissipate now. The end was coming—finally a resolution to the internal battle you’d waged alone. A conclusion was on its way, and you smiled at that…letting it consume you.

In their original timeline, Jayce and Ekko had been spit out in the exact moment they were plucked from—left to face the reality of the explosion. Jayce was first to acclimate himself, searching the room for the familiar body on the floor. He ran, with every remaining urge in him he rushed to you in spite of his fear.

He grabbed and shook you softly, his silent pleas for you to wake up transferred to his searching over you. Jayce grabbed your head, turning it to observe the injury—it looked bad. He searched the room, looking for anything to help.

A small vibration below him paused his movement, his eyes looking down immediately. You coughed, pushing out the smoke that had filled your lungs. The sudden pressure of Jayce falling over your chest made it impossible to move an inch.

You let your head fall back, relieving the pressure of the impact your skull had made to the rogue piece of concrete. Jayce shook into you, sobbing over your body.

“What happened?”

“There was an accident,” he gasped into you and fought for air. “An explosion.”

You sighed, the sudden collision of your body making more sense now. You let your hand rub over Jayce’s hair, softly comforting him.

“It’s okay.”

main master list

(note: someone asked me for clarification…yes…reader died 😭 HOWEVER—the version of you that was in the explosion in jayces timeline survived. he only saw her briefly and believed she didn't live at first. when he and ekko get transported back, we see the parallel of the explosion/you saying its okay. i added a few more words in there so I hope it makes sense!! ty for reading)

#jaggedamethyst #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce talis x reader #arcane #jayce talis x you #angst #arcane x reader #jayce x reader #jayce league of legends #jayce talis arcane #jayce x you #jayce arcane #jayvik #jayce x female reader

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iloveboysinred · 5 months ago

Text

SNOWED IN.

|MDNI 18+ content | Sylus x afab reader

synopsis; Sylus surprises you with a week-long trip to a ski resort in Alaska.

cw; afab reader, no use of y/n, crack/fluff. Sylus and reader are whipped for each other, sylus is bad at skiing , Gets a bit spicy but not outright smut, an attempt at writing something cutesy for the holidays. instagram posts at the end <3 (lets all pretend alaska exists in the lnds universe)

3114k words | playlist

If there was one thing Sylus was exceedingly good at, it would be spontaneity. It seemed like every other week he had something new scheduled for the two of you. Whether it’d be a date to an upscale restaurant, or the grand opening of a new club he had recently bought; Sylus liked to keep you entertained.

Christmas was coming, and it was his favorite time of the year to spoil you and treat you to luxuries you’d never thought accessible before. This year he’d planned a costly week-long getaway trip to a ski resort in Alaska, complete with a cozy private cabin and various activities to make your stay as memorable as possible.

You were beyond excited, packing all of your warmest garments and feeling less than guilty clearing out your schedule for the entire week. Your heart nearly fluttered away from your chest when you heard the coded knocks at your front door. Sylus, your very own prince charming, was finally here to rescue you from the painful dullness of everyday life. Eager, you open the door and pull him inside before he could get a word in, his surprised grunt ripping a fit of giggles from your chest as you embraced him, rocking his taller frame side to side in your arms. Sylus laughed, affectionately petting your head when you released him, running around to collect your things and throw in whatever you thought appropriate.“What an excited little kitten.” He mused to himself, holding his arms out dutifully as you piled on suitcases and bags for him to carry.

You don’t even try to hide your appreciation, doting on him with warm kisses and words of gratitude as he finished hauling the last of your luggage into the car. He returned your affections with quiet mirth, cradling your face into the plane of his chest, lovingly sharing his warmth with you. “Let's go, sweetie.” He murmured into your hair after a while, regrettably pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of your head and opening the passenger door for you all gentlemen-like.

Mephisto cawed to you in greeting from his perch on the arm rest, quickly nestling into your lap when you sat down, cooing like a needy cat demanding his share of your attention. You complied, stroking the bird’s bill tenderly as Sylus started the ignition, driving at less than favorable speeds.

Arriving at the resort felt like you had just stepped into winter wonderland. Undisturbed snow stretched for miles, blanketing the large hills and mountaintops overlooking the resort in blinding white. Pine trees decorated the open plains, their thick branches weighed down with heavy snow, just barley blending in with the surroundings. You eagerly surged out of the jet, drinking in the scenery despite the biting cold. Sylus followed you out, handing the luggage off for the twins to carry back to your cabin.

“Excited?” Sylus tenderly wraps a thick scarf around your neck, pulling a lip of the knitted fabric over to cover your nose. You nod, rubbing your eyes to ease the soreness you felt from the beaming sun reflecting off of the white snow. “So, when do we start skiing?” you turned towards him with childish enthusiasm beaming in your eyes, jet lag long forgotten. He only smiled, taking your hand in his “let's head to the cabin and change first. The vacation would go to waste if you catch a cold.” You obliged, feeling a bit ahead of yourself, but still unable to stop yourself from drinking in your surroundings as he led the way.

The cabin, albeit sizable, was as cozy as you had hoped. Familiar aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg greeted you as you opened the door, your eyes blinking appreciatively at the old timey lamps stationed at every corner of the cabin, bathing the room in a comforting glow. The large floor to ceiling curtains suppress the outside world’s natural light. In the living room area, a large bearskin rug laid out in front of a river-stone fireplace, complimenting the assortment of fur blankets and bedding neatly folded on the couch for you to use.

The bedroom itself matched the interior decoration, two matching nightstands sat at each side of the large bed, complete with layers of thick blankets and pristine pillows. The nightstands themselves each had its own lamp, and two satin sleep masks folded neatly over a set of matching robes for the both of you. Before you could even begin to strip down and change into appropriate attire, Luke and Kieran leisurely stroll in through the door, dropping duffel bags onto the hardwood floors, whatever was inside hitting the floor with a loud clang!

“We bought the skiing gear you requested, boss.” Luke chirped, pulling down the bottom part of his ski mask, his nose rosy red from the outside cold. “We even got the extra stuff you wanted. The gift shop is impressive” Kieran added, cheekily grabbing one of the complimentary pastries left by the staff and handing Sylus what you guessed was his credit card. They exchanged a few more words you couldn't make out, only hearing their enthusiastic shuffling before the door shut behind them.

Turning around you met Sylus’s gaze, mischief dancing in his eyes as he walked towards you with the two duffel bags in hand. “Better suit up sweetie, the twins are waiting for us at the bunny slope.” you eagerly grabbed the bag he outstretched to you, hurrying off to change.

To your surprise Sylus had sent you ahead, claiming he needed to unpack a few things before he could feel truly comfortable heading out to join you. In the meantime, the twins kept you company, racing you down the gentle slope a few times before moving on to a different hill. You became the designated photographer, the three of you snapping pictures and laughing as you wandered up and down the resort, your cheeks growing numb and flushed from the biting cold. You watched as Luke and Kieran raced down the ‘black diamond,’ the two of them darting past each other and leaving long tracks in the snow, their shouts of excitement nearly drowned out by the wind. It was then that you noticed nobody else was waiting in line to take a turn. The resort was basically a ghost town, save for you and the staff.

Briefly, you wondered if Sylus was planning something. It wasn't unusual for him to rent out or even buy a space for just the two of you to enjoy, but his insistence for you to go ahead without him and his quiet exchange with the twins raised alarm bells in your mind.

Kieran’s panicked shouts drew you out of your thoughts a second too late. You felt them before you saw them— the impact of twins crashing into you was strong enough to send the three of you toppling over into the snow. Recovering from the initial shock, you broke out into a fit of laughter, the twins awkwardly scrambling off of you, their hurried apologies coming from all angles as they helped you to your feet. Distracted by the sheer comedy of the moment, you just barely missed Mephisto’s loud cries from overhead, signifying Sylus’s upcoming approach.

The crow descended from the sky like a hawk, clicking and cooing as he landed on your shoulder, shaking his feathers out in protest to the wind. Sylus appeared soon after, fully decked out in ski gear and heavy clothing, you would barely recognize it was him if not for the aura and presence he exuded, effortlessly maintaining his elegance despite how silly he looked with his oversized snow goggles and weighty ski boots, exhibiting the classic penguin waddle of somebody not used to wearing skis. “decided to join us?” You mused, regarding him with fond eyes as he approached. “Of course,” he shifted in his spot uncomfortably, the heavy ski boots felt like they added 5 pounds to each foot, and you could already picture the irritated furrow in his brow. “Couldn’t let you have all the ‘fun’. Now, who wants to try their luck in a race against me?” You grinned, grabbing his wrist and all but dragging him to the chairlift while the twins followed.

It was hard to race against Sylus when the man could just barely balance himself on the ski’s. You watched in amusement as he clicked them on to the bottoms of his boots, slightly wobbling his way over to you once safely off the chairlift. You smiled from behind the ski mask, holding his arm while he adjusted his stance. It was obvious Sylus had never skied before, yet he still shooed away your doting hands, standing up straighter to clumsily maintain his balance. “Are you ready to lose?” You teased, waddling closer so that he could hear you through the protection of your mask. “Lose? “Don’t be so sure of your victory just yet, kitten.” despite his self assured tone, you don’t miss the way his hands gripped the ski poles to steady himself. You giggled, shifting a few feet away from him to ready yourself.

The twins counted down from behind you, and on the third mark, you pushed off and down the hill. Wind whipped around as you descended down the slope, and you quickly angled your ski’s into a v-shape to gain more speed, skillfully leaning your weight down onto the boots. You could just barely see Sylus from your peripheral, delighted to see him holding his own but still unable to gain advantageous speed.

In minutes you scored your victory.

“It seems you’ve won.” Sylus grumbled, coming to a stop next to you and very quickly clicking the ski’s off, again, balancing on the poles. “When you say it like that, it's almost as if you can’t accept that you’ve lost.” You mused dusting the snow off of his goggles, giggling when he slid them over his helmet, his eyes squinting at the sudden adjustment. “I can always just teach you, Sy.” He scoffed, already trekking back towards the chairlift. “Let's go again.” Unbeknownst to you, the twins crept away towards your cabin, swooning over the secret pictures they had taken of you and Sylus as they eagerly headed to complete their task.

You stayed outside until your muscles locked and your hands were numb.racing over and over until the daylight sky had darkened into beautiful midnight, the lack of light pollution providing the stars an open canvas to shine at full luminosity. It was beautiful, the hues of purple and blue painting the open sky stealing your breath away. Following Sylus back to the cabin had you light on your feet. The silence of the surrounding woodland created an air of private intimacy. It was only you and him out here, where no prying eyes could follow.

You paid no mind to the darkness that greeted you when you opened the door, the both of you carelessly stripping off the heavy snow-proof clothing and leaving it on the couch for tomorrow. You stop in your tracks as you enter the bedroom.The room was candlelit, adding to the cozy atmosphere the cabin already provided, on the bed Sylus had assorted a barrage of different gift bags– all from different upscale brands, a mix of names you recognized and others you didn't. In the center of it all, sat a large maroon box, topped with a pretty black bow.

Sylus sauntered in, his chest pressing against your back. You leaned into him, your heart beating in your chest as his arm slid over yours, intertwining your fingers. “A gift for every day that we spend together.” He whispered, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. You turned around in his embrace, your eyes shining with emotion. “Sylus, i- i don’t know what to say…thank you.” he smiled, cradling your face in his large hand, his nose brushing against yours as he leaned in. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me hold you like this a little longer.” you closed the space between you, shyly touching your lips to his in a gentle kiss. Sylus responded, holding you close to him as he returned your love. Melting into his arms, you stood on your tippy toes to deepen the kiss, conveying your adoration through your actions. You carded your fingers through his hair, ruffling the silky strands and he moved with you, his hands coming down to rest at your hips, pressing back into you with the same neediness. Slowly, he parted from you, releasing a breath. “I’ve drawn a bath.” his voice had picked up into a rasp, invoking jitters to run up and through your body. “Okay.” you breathed, wading out of his arms and letting him guide you to the bathroom.

You were pleasantly surprised to see the bathtub adorned with tea lights and a small record player sitting on the bathroom counter, a vinyl already inserted and ready to be played. Sylus swiftly moved the tonearm onto the vinyl, and the record began to spin. Unhurried, you undressed each other, exchanging heated kisses and wandering touches that set your skin ablaze.

Finally making it to the large tub, you sat in between Sylus’s legs, comfortably leaning back into him as he gently rubbed a soapy sponge over your skin. You felt your muscles relax, the steaming water loosening the knots that had begun to form after a long day of travel and strain. You closed your eyes, reveling in his touch, the music from the record player adding the perfect touch to your intimacy. Sylus pressed kisses down the side of your neck, slowly lathering the aromatic soap over your chest with the sponge, his intentions indiscreet. Leaning your head back, you let him kiss you breathless. The unique aroma of his cologne and natural musk overwhelmed your senses, your head spinning with each shift of his bare body against yours. It didn’t take long for Sylus to take you for himself, the water sloshing and spilling over the tub becoming evidence of your copulation.

Once dried and in your robes, the two of you grazed over a small charcuterie board, sharing glasses of wine and aimless small talk. Unable to stop yourself, you leaned over to his side of the bed where the two of you had pushed the gift bags away to safety and picked up the maroon box that had caught your attention the most, sitting it on your lap as you looked at him, fingering around the black bow curiously. “What’s in here?” Sylus shrugged, the corners of his mouth upturning, repressed excitement clear on his face. “I don't know, kitten. I guess you’ll just have to open it and see.” You carefully untied the ribbon and cracked open the box. A beautiful dress laid folded inside, matching earrings and a necklace delicately placed on the collar. You placed the accessories on the lid of the box, admiring the intricate design.

It appeared to be two lizard like—no, two dragons guarding a silver plated ruby, the earrings matching the beautiful gem. The dress itself was a deep maroon, matching the box it came in. The material felt silky to the touch, and its length was much too long for you to fully admire from your seated position. You glanced at Sylus, holding the dress up to your chest. “It's beautiful Sy. But, when would I wear this?” He chuckled at the awe on your face. “We have dinner tomorrow.” He stood up, retrieving the record player from the bathroom and setting it on the bed, re-spinning the vinyl and clasping your hand to pull you towards him. “It's somewhat of a winter’s ball. Now would be good practice.” You leaned into him, allowing the taller man to take the lead and sway you to the music.

“This is hardly ballroom dancing.” You mused, letting him twirl you around, feeling just as elegant in your bathrobe. “We’ll do it our way.” He took you in his arms, twirling the two of you around to the melody before placing you back down. You felt like you were walking on clouds, and as you gazed into the deep sanguine of his eyes, you realized that you’d hadn’t seen him today. From the ski mask obstructing the view of his face, the few hours you had spent apart entertained by the twins, and even in the bathtub, where you both had given in to your most carnal desires—the day had tossed you up into a storm, offering you little to no time to admire the man before you, who could effortlessly swept you off your feet, the man that has done everything—no matter how mundane, to satisfy you.

The time was now. You drank him in; the silver strands of his hair, still damp and moussed against his skin, perfectly matching the beautiful ivory frame of his eye lashes. His thin, perfect lips and the perfect slope of his nose- and of course, his eyes. Beautiful, intense scarlet bore into yours, a thousand unspoken words in his adoring gaze. As the song slowed to a stop, so did the two of you, your lips meeting again in sweet kiss, holding each other close unhurriedly pouring your hearts dry.

And as the day’s exhaustion caught up with you, the bed was welcoming. You laid against his body, his arm a comforting weight around your waist. Your body lost consciousness before your mind did, and you didn’t miss the amorous words he whispered into your ear.

Bloopers and ig posts!

Luke and Kieran crept into the cabin reserved for you and Sylus, Mephisto perched on Kieran’s shoulder. They looked around once, twice— before they entered. They had been instructed to light each and every candle Sylus had set out before you would arrive. Both to prevent the fire hazard and to ensure the candles were still lit once you came in. “Who knew the boss was so romantic?” Luke mused, taking the candle lighter and flickering on the tea lights around the tub. “I wonder how she managed to steal his heart” Kieran called back, bringing forth the small record player and vinyl, delicately placing it on the counter. The two of them swooned, admiring their handy work. Mephisto cawed a warming. You and Sylus were approaching. Alarmed, the two of them finished off the last of the candles, quickly shuffling towards the back window, hurriedly tumbling out when they heard the keys jingling in the lock. They landed hard in the snow, grunting as they tripped over each other trying to flee the scene, Mephisto following overhead.

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thedemonofcat · 16 days ago

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When Jaskier was born, it was said he came into the world under a bad sign. He wasn’t merely unlucky—he was the curse. Not cursed, not marked, but a walking misfortune from the start.

All through his childhood, his parents never let him forget it. Every mishap, every accident, every loss—they traced them back to him, insisting he brought nothing but bad luck.

Jaskier grew up trying to push that belief away, clinging to the hope that luck was something a man could shape with his own hands. But that hope shattered on a mountaintop when Geralt, in a moment of anger, blamed Jaskier for everything that had gone wrong in his life.

And in that moment, Jaskier believed it. Believed it deeply, bitterly. He wasn’t just unlucky. He was the problem.

So he sought out the only person he thought might be able to do something about it.

To Yennefer’s astonishment, after the mountain, Jaskier came to her with one quiet, devastating request:

He asked her to kill him.

#the witcher netflix #the witcher #joey batey #geralt of rivia #jaskier the witcher #henry cavill #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #fic ideas #jaskier #gerskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #freya allan #headcanon #yennefer of vengerberg #the witcher season 3 #the witcher season three #anya chalotra

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cr4yolaas · 1 year ago

Text

second best (pt 2) — iwaizumi hajime

notes: at last, the heavily requested part 2 to this fic !! i really hope it met a lot of your guys’ standards — i tried my best to take as much of your requests into account ^_^ i rlly dislike m the flow of this … but hopefully u guys still enjoy LOL

tags: angst → (bittersweet?) fluff, depressive episode (reader), swearing (once), a longgg process of grief and healing and whatnot, alcoholism (only briefly), roommate! tsukishima, best friend! oikawa, tsukishima does NOT have feelings for you, not proofread and quite long

taglist (incl. everyone who asked for a pt 2 !!): @altumsomnum @gennaray @romanticandupsetting @multi-fandom-fanfic

it was tuesday.

a frigid air pierced your limbs and left you to rot away, with the windows shut tight and the door locked. there was no mistakening the dark bags hanging beneath your eyes or the flakes of skin peeling from your bottom lip, nor the soft pleas of your stomach or the iciness of your fingertips. you basked in eternal slumber and silence and darkness and whatnot, save for the ticks of a clock that was 14 minutes behind and the hum of the air conditioning.

you were not frightened in the slightest. the warning signs plastered on your flesh were no great concern, and you could not fathom the idea of having to function again. it was horribly consuming.

with a groan, you released yourself from bed, your legs trembling under the mere weight of the air. you avoided the collections of trash and clothes splayed across the floor, being careful not to disturb the peace that had formed over the past handful of weeks. the sight of the kitchen was much more refreshing.

you were locked in stasis. contrary to the comfort these walls once provided, they now served as a a form of imprisonment, designed to allow the grief and the sorrow and the anger and the guilt to coalesce and spill over. it was terribly suffocating — you wished to escape.

gently, you poured a cup of water (not that you drank more than a sip, anyways). a thought passed your mind.

you needed to leave.

sendai was a home you could not find solace in anymore. gone was the youth encapsulated in the mountaintops and the hidden pathways and the convenience stores, and no longer could you feel at ease when faced with the neighborhoods you familiarized yourself with as a child.

your new apartment was shared with an old face — one you had only seen glances of in high school, notorious for his glasses and upfront attitude. he bore no hesitance when taking you in. instead, he was grateful for your presence, as if splitting the rent with him had taken off his life’s burden off of his shoulders.

he was quick to set ground rules — laundry days were on saturdays, trash needed to be taken out on sundays, the dish washer had to be clear at the end of the day, all groceries were shared, so on and so forth. you weren’t sure if you could keep up.

it took one week for him to actually conversate.

“why did you come back here?” he questioned, with a tone that implied he knew of you for years upon years (which would be false).

you picked at the skin of your lip. “why do you ask?”

“no reason. just curious.”

in a burst of energy, you recounted the tales of your past life, one of love and youth and joy; of the old apartment, of your past hobbies, of hajime. his gaze was so distant that you weren’t sure if he was listening at all.

in return, he expressed brief apologies and turned the story to himself — he discussed his volleyball career, his teammates, how he felt somewhat disconnected from his high school friends. he did not care to mention the exhaustion riddled into the pores on your face nor the weakness of your voice. that was all you needed. a conversation, not comfort.

only an hour later did he remind you of his name — tsukishima kei — and it was only then that you realized you had moved into an apartment without taking any precautions whatsoever. he laughed when you informed him of the situation.

this was not yet a home, but it was a house. and that was sufficient.

a month had passed before tsukishima forced you to get a job. he was clearly not a fool — at some point (you couldn’t tell when), he realized you were paying off your share of the rent with your life savings, which irked him ever so slightly.

“do you plan on moving out and dying on the streets when you run out?” he complained, despite the concern laced in the fluctuations of his voice.

you began working at his former high school coach’s family store. the owner himself was welcoming — he didn’t question your circumstances nor your physical state, and merely mentioned in passing that he was “given a token of appreciation from a prized student.”

and so began the cycle. on weekday mornings, you would depart for work and tsukishima would leave for practice. occasionally, he would pack you lunch (“only because i had leftovers,” he’d say) or leave a can of coffee on the counter for you. you would work at the register until the amalgamation of students died down, and once you were left with an empty store, you would take a break and go on a walk (as requested by your boss). then, you would return in the afternoon to serve the same population of children, handing them their ice cream and their sandwiches and whatnot. when they all disappeared, the coach would let you free and dismiss you with a “good work today, let’s do it again tomorrow.”

returning home was your favorite part of the schedule. a majority of the time, tsukishima arrived later than you, leaving you to your own time until he came home with dinner and a drink.

it was a monotonous cycle, but enjoyable nonetheless.

“i’m cutting off the beer for a month,” tsukishima exclaimed one warm summer night. you left your room to see him collecting unopened bottles and discarding them in a trash bag with little regard. you could only frown.

“those are all going to waste, we haven’t even opened them,” you groaned.

there was no response from the man as he continued to clear the apartment of any alcohol, akin to a parent cleansing their child’s home. before you could protest any further, he shut the door behind him and the crashing of bottles against one another could be heard beside the building.

tsukishima re-entered the apartment with empty hands and furrowed brows. “what’s up with the shitty face?” you asked from the couch.

he clicked his tongue at your comment and bore no response, instead letting his eyes wander to the screen in front of you. the morning news was playing, as usual. and yet, it was so wrong.

the screen flashed to a familiar face, one clad with a slight grin and sweat spread over his skin. his hair had grown slightly and his complexion had darkened, evidence of his labor. but most of all, he looked happy. his eyes screamed with a passion you hadn’t seen before, and despite his haggard appearance, he seemed to be content.

you did not see tsukishima rushing to turn off the television. you did not see the screen turn black, and you did not hear the noise diminish. you did not see tsukishima’s face adjacent to yours.

“hey. let’s go outside,” he muttered before moving to pull you up and out of the house

a delicate breeze washed over you both. the sun began to kiss you goodbye, and the noon crept up in its wake, leaving both of you in the dark.

“he looked so happy,” you whispered. “i don’t know what i’m doing wrong.”

you watched tsukishima light a cigarette in your peripherals, his lighter evidently battered and marred from heavy use. he made no move to offer one to you. “you’re not doing anything wrong,” he spoke firmly, although you could tell he was struggling to formulate the right combination of words in his head. “he’s just… going along a different path.”

“it should’ve been us on the same path. i feel so stupid. he’s gone on to do such great things, and i… what am i doing?”

tsukishima didn’t push the conversation any further. you were grateful.

a week had passed before tsukishima told you he had gotten you a new job, one deeper in the city. on an early sunday morning, he presented a uniform and badge to you, your name imprinted on both. the effort made you smile.

at some point, a new cycle formed. the museum was a far cry from the run down family store, and tsukishima taught you how to welcome it with an open mind and open arms. he never did mention the exact reason for the new occupation, nor did he tell you why he was so adamant on enforcing routine in your life. nonetheless, you appreciated it.

the mundanity that your new job encapsulated was slightly more enjoyable than that of your former job. exploring the concrete rooms filled with statues and paintings and whatnot was a sufficient way to pass the time. every now and then, you’d catch your roommate detailing a specific sculpture to a curious visitor, the scene contrasting his typical behavior. not that you would ever mention it to him, though.

a new routine was not unwelcome, but it did not feel impactful anymore. you still burned blue in the night, your bones aching with reminiscence over a lost life. your hands and legs still knew tokyo; they still knew the morning commutes and the bustling cafés and the chirping crosswalks and your own home, one that had been so devastatingly haunted by grief. your heart still knew the morning calls and the evening texts and the handfuls upon handfuls of promises made on once solid territory, and yet, you knew to return to it was to betray yourself.

you missed iwaizumi hajime.

rather, you missed the life that you formulated in his presence, opposed to the shambles you had grown comfortable in now that you were back home. tsukishima had carved a clay pot for your worn soul, and yet you could not help but yearn for the comfort and stability and routine you established in a past life.

the soft padding of feet echoed outside your door. soft strings of light streamed under your door as your roommate entered the kitchen, his actions indiscernible as he maneuvered about carefully. you decided to step out to greet him.

a startled tsukishima turned around to face you. “what are you still doing up?” he interrogated, albeit not in offense. “it’s late. we have work tomorrow.”

“but i don’t want to go to work. i want to go home,” you protested. you felt childish all over again — the thirst for selfishness was one that could not escape you, even now. an overwhelming desire to be in control of your own life.

tsukishima furrowed his brows. “to tokyo?” you nodded. “okay… then let’s go to tokyo.” he paid no mind to the slanted smile that transformed your lips, instead opting to turn away and fill up his bottle. “but why?”

“i need to escape,” you sighed, as if releasing a burden that had been lingering for a moment too long. “i need change. i just- i feel so stuck. i need to live.”

he merely hummed in agreement before uttering a comment about your poor sleeping schedule and ushering you back to bed.

tokyo was a city of hopes and dreams and noise. the shift from sendai’s cicada lullabies and whispers in the wind to the incessant chatter and obnoxious roads of the city was significant — any pedestrian would notice the irritation on you and tsukishima’s faces.

the inn he picked was small, yet slightly more comfortable than your current abode. the owners were kind and your neighbors were quiet, save for the occasional drunk couple. it was a life you remembering living, but not one you yearned for any longer.

in the night, you would both visit various attractions and markets and restaurants, with tsukishima insisting on paying for your meals (“as thanks for getting a life,” he argued). for that handful of days, you bore a smile that you weren’t sure would grace your lips ever again, for there was an adolescence in the evening activities that mended the remnants of your spirit. you felt whole.

on the last day, you brought tsukishima to a ramen house nearby the inn and promised to pay for the meal. it was a tuesday, again.

for reasons you could not discover, that appeared to be one of the busiest nights for the establishment — moments after you had settled, a line began to form, and the tables were crowded with families and friend groups and dates alike.

amidst the composition of metropolitans stood a man you wished you didn’t have to see. as if it were punishment, he locked his eyes with yours, the shock in his complimenting your dread.

you watched as he excused himself from his group while ignoring the cheers and shouts about him “shooting his shot.” tsukishima observed in tandem, seemingly reading the situation from a distance despite sitting right across from you.

you noticed the bold athletic trainer embroidered onto his chest, and the fitted red shirt he wore that matched those of his team. beads of sweat compiled on his forehead — you weren’t sure if it was from the density of the room or his exhaustion or anxiety. a small part of you hoped it was the second option.

“hey,” he began. “can- can we speak outside?”

you could not help but oblige.

hajime seemed to have developed an obsession with fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. you noticed the frayed strands on a spot that aligned perfectly with his hand, and you nearly laughed.

he coughed into his fist before rambling. “i’m sorry. i know you definitely don’t want to see me, and it’s not wrong of you at all to feel that way, but i just- i’ve thought about you- no, i think about you every day up until now. i know i don’t deserve you at all, and me being here is probably super upsetting, but-“

“hajime.”

the way you called his name seemed to deteriorate him and his principles. you finally felt otherwise.

“i really, really, didn’t want to see you at all. i don’t even want the thought of you to pass my mind. i’ve built a life outside of you and i’m tired of you interrupting it.” you witnessed his heart, mind, and body freeze simultaneously.

“i- i understand that, i know, i’m sorry. i’ve been- i’ve been reflecting a lot recently and i’ve known i was horribly in the wrong and i’m ashamed to have done nothing about it, and i know this sounds really, really dumb but i wish i had just stayed with you for that extra day because- because i don’t think i can go any longer without you now that i have you here, in front of me. could we- can we at least… keep in touch?” he seemed to speak without limitations, akin to a leaking clay pot. he was distressed, evidently. but you no longer saw his face and thought of guilt and love and yearning; you held no space for him.

you shook your head gently. “hajime, i don’t want you in my life anymore. you achieved your dreams, and i’m working on finding mine. that’s how it was meant to be.”

if not for the small lamp above the two of you, you would not have noticed the tears spilling onto his face. you bore no sympathy — with a goodbye and a small wave, you left him in the alley with a heavy heart and saline tears.

to witness him before you had awakened the truth riddled in your sinew and bloodstream: iwaizumi hajime was no longer a necessity. a truth that had cowered away beneath guilt and fragility and shame had uncovered itself, and for once, you breathed a full breath.

oikawa seemed so vibrant on the other side of your screen, the argentinian sun kissing his skin almost perfectly. “…i miss you lots!! i’ll visit soon, maybe, and we can catch up and maybe go get coffee and then debrief and then…” he trailed off with an aloof grin, his words spilling out from your phone and reverberating around the living room. tsukishima stood in the kitchen, the sound of his deliberate chopping and washing contesting oikawa’s voice. “but anyways, i’ll see you soon! byebye!!”

you waved goodbye and hung up, leaving only the noise of your roommate’s cooking. a loud groan left his lips in the midst of his mixing, followed by a complaint about how irritable your friend’s voice was. you could only laugh.

gentle strings of moonlight spilled into the apartment through the kitchen window, the songs of the evening falling upon both of you and your shared comfort. tomorrow was your off day, granting you both an opportunity for an actual meal. tsukishima (begrudgingly) agreed to make your favorite dish, with the request that you’d make his favorite dessert next week.

“thank you for the meal,” you whispered. tonight would consist of good food and a relaxing night, and tomorrow would entail a day of rest and a weekly reset, along with another call with oikawa. with marred hands and a porcelain heart, you had managed at last to craft a solid life — steady health, steady friends, and a steady routine.

you would no longer be second best to anything, and that was sufficient enough.

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redheadspark · 3 months ago

Note

your character’s friend pulls your character aside around the midway point of your story and says “hey i like them” and then your main character is gripped with such a violent dread that that’s when they realize they’ve been in love the whole time

For Azriel

A/N - This is great! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Fool

Summary - You weren't the only fool in love

Warnings - angst with a fluffy ending

You were clutching the wine glass in your hand so hard you were about to break the glass itself.

Your focus was not on the party that was going on around you, nor were you paying attention to the guests in attendance. The party was lovely, a great affair thrown by the High Lord and Lady themselves as a celebration and remembrance of the Battle of Hybern that happened 5 years ago. High Lord Rhysand wanted to celebrate the brutal battle that ended in victory, wanting to remember the lives that were lost and the sacrifices made to save not just Velaris but all of the Pythian. He made it a National Holiday in Velaris and Night Court, throughout the day there would be mourning but once the moon rose it would be a celebration.

There was plenty to celebrate: Velaris thriving, the new marriage of Nesta and Cassian, Rhsyand and Feyre expecting their second child while their first child Nyx was the pride and joy in their home, Elaine and Lucien finally admitting their feelings for one another and they started courting. You were glad for all your friends, they all came so far from where they started and they deserved to be happy in life.

Yet you were trying to hide the impending doom that you were feeling as your eyes were across the room and locked into Azriel: the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of Night Court and the secret target of your affection.

Having a crush go someone as mysterious as Azriel was no easy task. Being with friends with him was the easy part, he was a solid friend through and through. You met him through Elaine, who was close to him when you arrived in Night Court after moving out of Day Court. Azriel was kind enough to you, volunteering to show you around Velaris since you were lost within the massive but beautiful city. You loved his company over time, since some peace and comfort in his advice and the stories he would tell you about his line of work.

There was more to him than his cool demeanor and the shadows that seemed to always be there with him. He was thoughtful, remembering the small things that you mentioned to him that you liked. He brought you fresh pastries to you when you were having a rough day one time in the winter, he took you to one of the newly constructed gardens since he knew you loved flowers and botanicals.

It was hard to avoid the fact that you were developing a crush on him, but it was small and almost childish. He snuck into the back of your mind, like the rolling mist that would come over the mountaintops above Velaris. You constantly thought of how good he smelt when he would wear a certain cologne when the group went to Ritas, or how the light shined in his hazel eyes when he laughed at something Cassian would tell him. Those small things were becoming more and more frequent for you.

And before you knew it and before you could stop it: you were in love.

Being in love with your friend seemed too good to be true, almost like a fever dream you would have. To think of being in love with Azriel should not be an issue. But it was, solely because you were dreading reality over fantasy. You had no title, you weren’t a strong high fae. Compared to the rest of the Inner Circle, you were simply ordinary. Not that you hated being ordinary, you loved your life and how it was simple and yet vibrant.

But you felt as though you would not be enough for someone as eccentric and compelling.

The only other person who knew of this was Mor, leave it to Rhysand’s cousin to discover your affection to her old flame. She thought it was charming and quite cute, though you explained to her that it would never happen.

“Azriel is not as insane as people think he is,” She explained to you as you both were walking together one morning, you venting to her all that you were keeping inside and going to her for advice, “He holds his heart close and does not expose it to anyone. I see how he chats with you, he enjoys your company and I know it brightens his day,”

“But that’s just me being his friend, he won’t see me as more than that,” You said in a grumble, though Mor lightly shoved your shoulder with hers as she got your attention.

“I’ve known him for centuries, and I know for a fact that whoever he shows affection and attention to, they are worthy and beyond of him. And I know that’s you,”

But now you were seeing him chat with Gwyneth Berdara and they were laughing, as if they were old friends. Why was It making you bitter? Gwyn was a great friend, so sweet and filled to the brim with optimism. You loved being her friend, but something was off in her talking to Azriel in such a way. Did she too have a crush on him? Did he like her? Why was It feeling like you were about to step into a nightmare?

“So, instead of breaking one of Rhysand’s glasses since it was a wedding gift to Feyre, let’s release the glass shall we?” You turned to the left to see Nesta with a smirk on her face, then looking at the glass you were clutching and seeing that you still had the neck of the glass in a death grip. Nesta chuckled as you loosened your grip, she then took the glass with her long fingers and patted your back.

“Jealousy does not suit you,” She hummed as you sighed, looking down at the maroon dress you were wearing for the party, “Though that dress does, and I think you look lovely,”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, Nesta wrapping her arm around yours to get you to look at her. Her kind and fierce beauty, her smile that seemed so sweet but could also be cruel, looked at you as if you were one of her sisters.

“Azriel does not know what he’s missing,” She explained, you grinning slightly, “If he doesn’t see how gorgeous you are both physically and intellectually, he’s a fool. Any fae would be lucky to have your heart,”

You tried not to cry, and all the mean thoughts you had moments before melted away as you gained softly at Nesta, “Thank you,”

She chuckled and patted your arm with her spare hand, “Anytime. Now come on, let’s get a fresh glass and find my husband to talk about the latest gossip at the Illyrian camp. He's been dying to tell me, and I think it'll lift your spirits.”

You followed her willingly, thinking that it would be nice to be distracted.

“So, when are you going to ask her on a date?”

“I haven’t found the right time. I want it to be perfect,”

“If you want perfect, you both will be old and withering away by the time that happens,”

“Gwyn…”

“Come on, Az. Ask Y/N, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“She doesn’t like me, not the same way I like her.”

“Am I hearing that the Shadowsinger is afraid?”

Azriel glared at Gwyn, who giggled as he then looked back in the direction where you were. But you were walking off with Nesta, his heart aching as you were walking out of the room. Gywn simply smacked him on the shoulder, which made Azriel scowl at her as she pointed at him.

“You got it bad, and you need to gather some courage,” Gwyn stated.

Azriel sighed. Yeah, he needed that courage.

The End.

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago

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Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)

BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?

Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.

#good omens #neil gaiman #brian levine #neil the gould standard 2023 #interview #neil interview #videos #fun fact #gos2 #season 2 #2ep6 #s2 interview

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midnightshindig · 26 days ago

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I don't know if you're taking requests, but what about a Mark with a mentor hero he can lean on? Most heroes in other comics usually have them, so why not? P.S. Can you recommend a name for an orange cat? I adopted one, but I can't think of a name.

My orange cat is named Opalite for the color Opalite makes when you shine a light through it, but we call her Opal. My grey ragmuffin cat is Winchester, but we call him Winnie. A good cat name should be relatively formal in its fullest form, but with a nickname that matches the cats vibe.

But if you just wanted a recommendation, I like Marmalade. You could call them Lade/Ladhy for a girl and Marms if they're a goofier cat (regardless of gender).

Could also name it fancy nancy but that's neither here nor there.

hcs below the cut!!

You're an adult hero (late 20s to early 30s) with powers akin to Bulletproof, generic strong, flying superhero

But you're ALSO a long time 'friend' of Nolan aka Omniman

You were briefly both superheroes in the same city in your early days, and he trusted your competency.

So when Nolan realized Mark was unresponsive to his training, he called in a favor from you

So you and Mark started training together, and it was a rocky journey

He was overzealous but insecure about his own abilities and with a deep need to prove himself

"That was good, Kid. Your time's a minute faster than it was when we started training."

Mark peeled his mask off in frustration "Agh- My Dad can circle the Earth in seven minutes- you can do it in nine! Fifteen minutes-"

"Fourteen." You corrected, holding up your phone stopwatch feature with a smile

He narrowed his eyes and sighed in exasperation "You know what I mean, Y/n. I need to be faster, stronger! Time me again."

Before you could stop him, he was off again, assumedly taking a lap around the earth.

After the events of Season One, Mark starts training with you exclusively

It's a form of bonding that only you, Art, Mark, and Debbie can really understand

To be so close with someone and have them be so different from your idea of them.

Plus, Mark's dad is no longer around for their training

"Wow, Mark, your time is so much better! Eight minutes, hell kid you're faster than me!"

Mark gritted his teeth, slumping against the mountaintop he'd flew across the earth to get back to

"Y/n... did you ever train with my dad?"

His question didn't come as much of a surprise, he'd seemed off since the event in Chicago.

"of course, we trained a handful of times. Although, you and I have trained together more than your dad and I ever did."

This answer softened him, and his crossed arms dropped to his side

"I don't know how to not be a disappointment."

His voice was shaky but knowing, this was obviously something he'd been thinking about for a while.

"Mark, of course you arent. You could never be. You just have to-"

"Be the best that I can?" Mark scoffed, pulling his knees to his chest. It was a horribly childish pose for such a grown boy "Y/n, my best got thousands of people killed. I'm not good enough."

You thought really hard about his circumstances

and about the kind of person Mark was

and sat next to him in the snow

"Then we work hard." your tone was jovial, almost casual, as if you were suggesting he unplug and replug a faulty appliance

Mark hadn't been expecting that answer, pity or encouragement, maybe. Anger or spite? Sure. but this? It was so... knowing.

"How can I work hard when the stronger I get, the more mistakes I make?"

You smiled, bumping him with your shoulder "Your powers get stronger before your mind and heart do, muscles get better with weight training and cardio, but you can't handle that power until you've had real experience." A coy, performative grin spread across your face in an attempt to soothe his worries

"I'm an adult, Mark, and I've been training superheroes for a while. If I believe in you, you gotta trust me."

Mark's face tightened once more "But- you were wrong about my dad." he looked back and away from you, trying to tip toe around being offensive or plainly rude with his reasoning

"mm, that's true." You nodded sagely, leaning back onto your arms "But, so was everybody. And I mean, if everyone was fooled, that just means we all have the chance to learn and be better judges of character in the future."

You watched the skyline contemplative, reminiscing on your memories with Nolan

"Your dad was a weird guy, he was gruff and reserved, unwilling to explore what he feared or to embrace what he loved. I always thought he was just aloof, but its an inability to connect with ones heart that leads to apathy and violence." You rested a hand on Mark's upper arm supportively "I'm glad you told me about your worries. It's good to be worried. It's good to be scared. It shows you care, and that you'll do better. You have something Omni-Man never could've, foresight. Learn from your life, Mark, its why you remember it."

In that moment, Mark could feel his tensions easing, the weight on his shoulders melting into the snow beneath him.

It had been so long since an adult was able to fully connect with him in this way, in a way his mother wasn't wholly able to due to her obligations as his mother.

But when his shoulders eased and he felt his head hit your outer arm, he knew that he could relax

and maybe trust in someone other than himself to make the right decision.

If you believed in him, maybe that was all that mattered. And maybe the two of you could figure the rest out with the knowledge you gained on the way.

#invincible #invincible show #invincible season 3 #invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson invincible #mark x reader #invincible mark grayson #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader

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mountaintop-daydreaming · 4 months ago

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guys i have a question (for science):

do you think "the cut that always bleeds" by conan gray is more messy wolfstar or messy jegulus coded? and who's singing it?

i was listening to it and it was giving vibes but i don't know who it fits best 😭😭

#jegulus #wolfstar #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #dead gay wizards #marauders fandom #marauders music #thoughts from the mountaintop #Spotify

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inkedinshadows · 6 months ago

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On the Wings of Freedom

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel is flying back home to his mate.

Warnings: none

Word count: 770

@azrielappreciationweek

Azriel banked left, catching the air current as he soared higher in the sky, leaving the Illyrian steppes behind. The wind was cool on his face, almost cold under the morning sun, but it didn’t bother him. Winter in Illyria was when the cold became truly harsh, and he’d land with a red nose and rosy cheeks.

Winnowing back to Velaris would have been faster, but Azriel needed the two hours of flight to clear his mind after spending a whole week in Windhaven. Flying helped—it always brought him a much-needed sense of freedom that nothing else could match.

Still, he couldn’t wait to be home with his family.

He flapped his wings, rising higher as the wood below gave way to the mountains. It didn’t matter how many times he had seen it, the sight always took his breath away. Perhaps it was because, from up here, it was easy to forget how cold and cruel the world could be. Up here, there was only silence, despite the wind roaring in his ears. It felt distant from everything and everyone, a place where Azriel could let his thoughts run free.

As usual, those thoughts raced to the mate waiting for him at home.

He had missed you over the past week, just as he always did when he had to leave for a few days. It was even harder when he had to shut off his side of the bond, and he couldn’t feel your quiet presence anymore. But now that he was soaring through the sky, the wind at his back carrying him closer to you, he let that wall fall away. He gently tugged on the invisible thread that connected your souls across any distance.

He immediately felt you tug back, sending an overwhelming wave of love down the bond. It warmed his heart so much that he nearly forgot about the cool air whipping against his face and through his hair, and a smile spread across his lips. Azriel responded with his own love, imbued with the happiness of knowing he would see you soon.

He beat his wings, speeding through mountaintops and over valleys, gliding along the currents. If he hurried, he'd be home by lunchtime. He had to debrief with Rhys first, but it shouldn't take long, and then he could share a warm meal with you. He never thought he would come to dislike the silence, but sitting alone at the table every day for a week had made him feel lonely. He wasn't used to it anymore.

With the quiet presence of the bond now glowing faintly in his heart again, his mind finally settled, and Azriel focused entirely on his flight.

The rhythmic beat of his wings and the roaring wind were the only sounds reaching his ears, drowning out even the calls of the birds below. He took a deep breath, the crisp morning air filling his lungs and carrying the scent of pine from the forest far beneath him. The sunlight kissed his wings, barely warming the dark membranes as he glided along the current. He could feel every shift in the wind, and he swore that sometimes it seemed to whisper his name, calling to him.

His lips curled in a playful smile as a wild thought crossed his mind. With a sharp flick of his wings, he veered into a steep dive, the wind rushing past him with a deafening roar. His heart pounded, and adrenaline surged through his veins as the earth seemed to race toward him. He waited with bated breath until the very last moment, then snapped his wings wide open, cutting upward with a burst of speed. A soft laugh escaped his throat as he soared higher once more, feeling utterly free and alive.

He needed this, he realized. There were very few things he couldn't live without, and flying was most definitely one of them. Perhaps it was because he had learned later in life, or simply because he was Illyrian and his blood sang for it, but he couldn't fathom a life without the wind in his ears and the infinite expanse of the sky around him.

With a final sweep of his wings, he leveled his flight and let himself savor the pure, unbridled joy of flying, knowing that no matter where life took him, the sky would always call him back. But now, his heart pulled him toward home, where you waited to embrace him once more.

Another kind of joy, another kind of love—but just as strong, and one more thing he could never be without.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

#azrielappreciationweek2024 #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #drabble #fanfiction #azriel appreciation week

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spoiled-fawn · 2 years ago

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CoD Wedding Headcannons

Some sweet love for our boys, hoping to cheer anyone up after MW3. While the photos do have fem/wedding dresses in them, I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible!

I hope everyone can enjoy!

Price

Getting married to Price warrants an old Hollywood glamour, something more intimate and small for the people you both hold close, so you can make memories of the long-awaited night while being able to relax in good nature of the celebration.

You both decided to find a nice speakeasy for both the ceremony and reception, as Price had surprised you and rented out the entire venue. The soft and warm glow of candles and old lights casted a romantic light on you, showing the etheral glow to you.

Price is a traditional man, and decided to save his first look to seeing you walk down the aisle. As your eyes lock onto his, he sniffles and the distinct tell of his moustance twitching is what keys you in on him being able to feel comfortable showing his emotions as he hones his ice blue eyes on you.

He did in fact, make quite the show for your first kiss, taking you in his arms and giving you a gentle but deep dip, showing off the romantic (almost steamy) touch of your lips as you lock in your unity.

Your first dance is a slow sway in circles, focused on whispering sweet nothings to each other in between the kisses you reach up to give him. Saving the absolute last dance for both of you, as the clock strikes into midnight and the day is now Sunday, Etta James' Sunday Kind of Love plays out softly as you sway together before heading up to your honeymoon suite.

Vows:

"My angel, you have been everything I believed I never deserved. You have shown me what I have always been missing, the love that I never knew of. I know I will never be able to amount to the thankfulness of you sticking by me through and through, I will never stop thanking the heavens of the gold and glory that you are, as you run through my veins to find your home in my heart.

Just as I fought by your side on the field, I promise to fight for our love, to shield it from any harm that may come its way. Through the scars and wounds we bear, both seen and unseen, I vow to cherish every part of you. Your strength, your vulnerability, your laughter, and your tears - they are all precious to me. Our love is a force that any creature made by god would fear, as I know we are forever to be unstoppable together, through every small and great task.

Together, we will conquer any obstacle that stands in our way. I promise to never forget the sacrifices made; honoring our fallen, for they have paved and protected the way for our love. They watch over us, guiding us, and reminding us to cherish every moment we have. I love you, with every last being of myself, and even past my last breath. Forever and always, angel."

Gaz

Gaz has a flair for the dramatics and also loves a fairytale and nature aesthetic. He requested a fairytale wedding, and it was an extravagant night for the two of you. Gaz values some traditions but was ready to blow those to the wind for his excitement to celebrate your love. You did a first look, and he was rendered speechless as he took in your form, tears already pooling and beginning to stream down his face.

Gaz took the time with you to learn a ballroom dance for your first song, impressing your guests and even yourselves with how beautiful and magical the two of you are. Cutting the cake was a very sweet moment for the two of you, as you both happened to have the same thought and booped each other on the nose with icing at the same moment.

Your wedding was held in a mountaintop venue, the night sky showing all the stars that shined brightly and reflected on a lake, approving of your love as if the faries make an appearance for your royal court of a wedding. As you danced the night away, Kyle was sure to keep a mix of whispering the most heart warming sweet nothings, and making sure to catch your reaction by the photographers when he murmured sinfully sweet thoughts in your ear.

Vows:

"Through the chaos and uncertainty, you became my anchor, guiding me with your strength and infectious spirit. Together, we have faced the darkest of days, and it is in those moments that our love has grown stronger. When I look into your eyes, I see a reflection of my hopes, dreams, and desires.

Your love has breathed life into my soul, and I vow to nourish that love with tenderness and compassion. I promise to be your confidant, your partner, and your best friend, as your happiness is everything that can and will continue to let my heartbeat to our special song. I promise to be the keeper of your dreams, the one who will protect and nourish you from any challenges we face, always together.

You are my life; I will walk beside you, hand in hand, supporting you in every step. You are the greatest reward life has ever, granted me. With every beat of my heart, I will love you fiercely, unconditionally, and without reservation, for you are the missing piece that completes me."

Soap

Johnny was all for having a fun and colorful wedding, and a maximalist and retro decor was decided on. Because for a MacTavish? Go big or go home baby.

He never stopped smiling the day of your wedding, his astonishment at the environment and scene of your unity never leaving his face. You decided to read your vows privately to each other, holding hands and having your backs to each other while waiting to have your first look down the aisle. Under disco balls, your first dance felt like something out of a movie.

Johnny was one to always show off, and he was sure to spin and dip you around, his strength holding you as he even lifted you and twirled you around. Now as a real MacTavish, you both knew how to throw a party and made sure that your open bar helped your guests get as wild as you two are.

If you did decide to wear a garter, or simply put one on for the tradition, Johnny made a damn great show of taking it off; crawling underneath your dress/between your legs and made you squeak in embarrassment as his stuble tickled your thigh.

Vows:

"Today, I stand before you, to pledge my undying love. You, my little sparrow, have held my attention, obsession, and heart from the moment our eyes met. I promise to always have your back, whether we're dodging bullets or just trying to figure out what to have for dinner. With you, life is an adventure, and I can't wait to tackle it together.

I promise to be your partner in crime for life, always up for exploring new horizons and creating memories we’ll never live down, But as long as we're together, every moment will be an adventure worth cherishing.

You bring laughter and lightness to my life, even in the darkest of times. Your smile is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds. Life is too short to not enjoy the simple pleasures, and with you by my side, every moment is a treasure.

I vow to keep the flames of passion alive, As Our love is a fire that burns bright, even amidst the chaos. I promise to keep the spark alive, to always pursue you with the same determination and intensity that challenges the forces of this earth."

Ghost

Simon was enthusiastic to have a wedding that featured a dark and mystical aesthetic. He wanted something small and private, requesting that it be some of your closest friends and family to spend the special night together.

With a romantic and dark church, it was a powerful and mystical wedding that incorporates both of your energies. You both decided not to have groomsmen/bridesmaids and instead placed altars of your fallen teammates and loved ones under the arch with you two, feeling their love in your unity.

Simon waited for his first look down the aisle but began crying with a wavering voice during your vows. During the first dance, he lifted you to stand atop of his feet, holding you as he moved the both of you in a surprising fashion of a waltz, elegantly for the seasoned stealth veteran.

His eyes seemed to swim with tears, iris' almost as black as his pupils in the dark lit church and ballroom. His eyes were rarely straying from you, far to enamored with keeping every memory to be held in his soul- even in the next life.

Vows:

"From the darkness where death once consumed us, to the light that now shines through our love, I stand here today, my heart laid bare, to vow my eternal devotion to you. In the face of danger, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, our love has blossomed like a fragile flower, defying all odds. Today, I stand here, a silent guardian, to pledge my undying love and devotion to you. In our promise, my heart will always yearn for your touch, laughter, and the warmth of your presence.

Through the pain and loss we have endured, I promise to cherish every memory we share. Your laughter, your touch, your soul - they are etched into the very fabric of my existence. I will hold you as tenderly as the spirits did when creating you, as you are a gift that I will forever cherish. In this broken world, I vow to mend any pieces of your heart, to hold you close when the weight of the past becomes too heavy to bear.

I will be your strength when you feel weak, your rock when you need stability. With you, I have found a love that mends the scars of the past."

Graves

Phillip desired a venue within the wilderness and countryside, deciding that a farm with a Barn reception was perfect. His vows were as strong as his commands, his voice was deep and rich with honey, and maybe a few tears, as he spoke his heart out to you and let the crowd hear just how much you have changed him into a loving man.

You partook in “burying the bourbon,” planting a favorite bottle in the ground of your wedding venue, one month prior. Once dug out, you intertwined arms and took shots all night, the heat of the drink and your love enveloping you both. two-stepping through the night on the dance floor, he twirled you expertly and dipped you low to the ground before always leaving a kiss on your lips.

It was during the ceremony that he surprised you, having ordered a mechanical bull for you and the guests to ride. Taking you and himself on the first ride, you laughed so hard you cried at how silly, but fun it was.

Taking you to the airport after the wedding, he had a classic American car with a "Just Married" sign on the back. And of course, the Shadows were your escort to the airport.

Vows:

"My sweetheart, from the moment our stubborn hearts crossed paths, I sensed a connection deeper than what ties us to this life. I will be a guardian of our love, ensuring that it shines brightly in every step I take, and every breath I draw, as you are the whisper that breathes into my greatest devotion.

In the depths of my soul, and the depths of you, I promise to carry our love of shared laughter, whispered promises, and the unspoken bond that will forever be the piece that grounds me in this realm. I vow to live a life worthy of the love you bless me with, to carry forward the lessons you teach me, and to honor the sacrifices we have made to make it this far, together.

Your courage, compassion, and unwavering loyalty will forever inspire me, my angel, whom I vow to cherish and love and you beat your wings to the pulse of my heart.

As I walk this Earth with you by my side, I know that we will be forever united no matter the realm we are in. As our love knows no boundaries, and as we exchange these vows, we will be together, holding each other in a timeless embrace. To the moon and farther, you are my saving grace. ”

Alejandro

Alejandro was excited to celebrate your commitment and love to each other, already planning a massive celebration between each other's families, friends, and Los Vaqueros, who helped set up your beautiful wedding. In true Vaquero fashion, the Wedding Lasso Ceremony was incorporated.

By a thick cord of white rope, the priest tied it around you two in an infinity shape and blessed your unity to eternity. As he read his vows to you, Alejandro tried very hard to not cry but in the last paragraph (and from hearing his own mother’s soft sniffles in the crowd) he had a quiet sob while his eyes found yours, reciting the lines from his heart.

As the ceremony concluded, you and Alejandro rode your horses down the streets of the town, waving and smiling at all who had come out to shout and cheer for your parade of love in La Callejoneada, many throwing rice and flower petals towards you two in a token of celebration. Your wedding was held in an orchard of Mango trees, the meaning of affection and adoration not.

Vows:

"Mi Amor, as we stand together, I vow to be the person you deserve, to love you unconditionally, and to be a witness to your growth and transformation. Our love is a flame that burns brightly, illuminating the path before us, and I am grateful to walk it by your side.

In your eyes, I find the force that drives me to be what you deserve, as you are the most sacred thing to ever cross the path of my heart. Eres mi existencia, la luz que hace que mi sangre lata en mi corazón como siempre ha sido el tuyo. (You are my existence, the light that makes my blood beat into my heart as it has always been yours.)

Mi Vida, in you, I have found a sanctuary where I can be myself, unburdened by the weight of the world. I vow to be your shelter and support, and together, we will create a haven of love and understanding, where we can always find solace and rejuvenation.

Desde este día en adelante, caminaremos juntos por el sendero de la vida, enfrentando los desafíos con valentía y compartiendo las risas y los sueños. Mi amor por ti trasciende las palabras y se manifiesta en cada gesto, en cada mirada, y en cada latido de mi corazón."

(From this day forward, we will walk the path of life together, facing challenges with courage and sharing laughter and dreams. My love for you transcends words and is manifested in every gesture, in every look, and in every beat of my heart.)

Rudy

Rodolfo was ready for a celebration but wanted to keep it intimate to your closest family and friends, and of course, Los Vaqueros as well. You both chose a beautiful wedding venue next to the beach, having the white decorations tied into the beautiful white sand and blue ocean water.

Exchanging Las Arras matrimoniales proved to be heartwarming as the priest and los padrinos y madrinas made sure you felt the love as you became a Parra, a member of their family. You were surprised as Rudy managed to only have his eyes water during his vows but his voice wavered, and he had to clear his throat multiple times while reading them aloud.

That didn’t stop his voice from showing his conviction and devotion; entering the reception, Rudy placed you on a lone chair in the middle of the dance floor and lined up with his men and a mariachi band. Under the sunset, he serenaded you. His voice rang out richly and perfectly, causing tears to stream down your face as your hand laid over your heart to try and keep it still.

Vows:

“Mi Cielo, your presence in my life has been like a symphony, each note perfectly harmonizing with the next. Together, we have created a melody that resonates deep within me. You have become my muse, my inspiration, and the beat of my soul.

Mi Corazón, prometo nutrir nuestro amor como una flor delicada, cuidándolo con cuidado y devoción. Así como un compositor cultiva su obra maestra, yo me haré cargo de nuestro amor, colmándolo de cariño, comprensión y respeto. Nuestro amor florecerá, irradiando su belleza al mundo. (My Heart, I promise to nourish our love like a delicate flower, tending to it with care and devotion. Just as a composer cultivates his masterpiece, I will take charge of our love, showering it with affection, understanding and respect. Our love will blossom, radiating its beauty to the world.)

Our love is a masterpiece, and I promise to protect it with all my being. As we embark on this journey together, I vow to always walk beside you, hand in hand, navigating the twists and turns that life may bring. Our love will be the melody that carries us through, and with you by my side, I am confident that we can conquer anything. En este día y todos los días venideros, me comprometo a amarte con cada fibra de mi ser. (On this day and every day to come, I commit to loving you with every fiber of my being.)

Our love is a melody that sings of devotion and commitment, and I am honored to be the one who shares this beautiful symphony with you.”

König

While planning your wedding, König asked for a deal between you two for the ceremony. If you granted him a private elopement, he would deliver the wedding of your dreams. Deliver he did, as he picked a literal castle for your venue. An enchanting and historic architecture with plants adding to the mystical feel, he made you feel as decadent as two rulers who are together forever more and uniting two kingdoms.

He chose to speak his vows privately to you, with a camera pointed towards you to watch as you both had tears running down your faces at the words spoken softer than any feeling your heart has ever felt before. However, he knew that a party was needed to celebrate your love, so the reception was held in a ballroom that overlooked the forest.

As a man who values his heritage, you and König had a private ‘Brautraub’ where you hid within the castle, waiting for him to figuratively seek and kidnap you as a symbol of starting a new portion of your life with him as he (literally) swept you off your feet and into his arms.

Vows:

"Mein Schätz, our love is vital as the bond between two rulers has created a kingdom of love and unity that reigns within our souls. You are the crown of my life, the sun that illuminates my kingdom. With you, I have experienced the true meaning of love and devotion as you have captured my heart, forever I will honor and protect you, as you are my guiding star that will lead me to my heaven.

Mein Liebling, ich gelobe, unsere Liebe wie ein kostbares Juwel zu hegen und sie mit Hingabe und Aufmerksamkeit zu pflegen. Ich gelobe, unsere Liebe immer zu nähren und sie stärker zu machen als einen funkelnden Diamanten, denn niemand wird jemals meine Hingabe an Dich schmälern. (My darling, I vow to cherish our love like a precious jewel and to nurture it with devotion and attention. I vow to always nourish our love and make it stronger than a sparkling diamond, for no one will ever diminish my devotion to you.)

Meine Sonne und Sterne, I vow to cherish and nurture our bond with tenderness and care. Like a king protects his kingdom, I will guard our love fiercely, shielding it from harm. Our love will stand as a beacon of hope, one that is a testament of royalty, radiating its warmth and beauty to all who witness its majestic journey. Ich liebe dich für immer.”

(Meine Sonne und Sterne = My Sun and my Stars. Ich liebe dich für immer = I love you, forever.)

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sanemi-whore · 2 years ago

Text

All Night (Cruel World Pt.2)

Thankfully (for Sanemi's sake) you return from Final Selection alive and well. However, you being apart of the Demon Slayer Corps has his nerves going insane. To assure your safety, you often attend missions alongside him. word count: 15.150 warning: character death, blood, jealousy, cursing, smut, dark themes, aphrodisiac, anxiety, impregnation kink, mentions of abortion @roaringlion @kiki17483

Part One | Masterlist | Final Part

You felt old next to the other Final Selection survivors and the thought causes your heart to ache. You were an adult, far from the young age of 14 - the youngest apart of the survivors. To think children join the Demon Slayer Corps and put their lives at risk in order to help others - you wonder how old Sanemi was when he joined. Or Genya - all of the slayers you’ve met.

The morning sun shines bright ahead of you and the other five survivors. Your eyes look forward to the mountaintop shrine, a soft smile forming on your lips at the two children standing before the survivors.

“Welcome back.” they say in Unison. “Congratulations on completing Final Selection. We’re pleased to see that you’re all safe..”

There’s a low sniffle beside you. You hum at the sight - a young boy no older than 16. You recall just how terrified he was to encounter a demon coming at him with such speed that he barely managed to dodge its attack. It was raining that night and the boy's burgundy hair was clouding his vision. You intervene, slashing the demon’s neck. The boy, Shinra, never left your side until now.

“First we must issue you all uniforms once we take your correct measurements.” the dark haired child started.

“Then we’ll engrave your rank on the back of your hand.” the white haired child continued.

“You then will be given the chance to select the ore that will be used to forge your weapon - swords. It will be 10-15 days before said weapons are ready to use.”

The black haired child claps their hands twice. Above you hear several crows, flocking their wings. You're excited, nearly ecstatic. You recall the many times you’ve been berated by Muichiro’s crow and how she loved him dearly that you wished to have your own.

A crow flocks onto your shoulders. It flocks its wings several times before stopping, inspecting your face.

“Now that you all are demon slayers, you are each assigned Kasugai Crows.” the white haired child spoke. “They are used to facilitate communication.”

The black haired child turned away to remove the long, blue cloth that laid above a table.”Now the time has come for you to choose an ore for your sword.” he says, revealing several ore’s for each of you to choose.

“Shinra.” you call to the boy beside you, still sniffling. “Let’s go choose our Ore.”

Shinra’s eyes are wide as you speak to him, but he nods nonetheless. He follows you closely as each of the survivors inspect the ore’s. You yourself are none the wiser choosing an ore. You contemplate having laid your eyes upon an ore and just thought it was another random rock.

“Which one should we choose, Shinra?” you smile at the boy. “I sense…that one,” you point to a medium sized ore. “Is a good fit for me.”

Shinra furrows a burgundy brow, “H-How do you know?” he murmurs.

“I can just feel it.” you respond. You go to grab it.

Shinra’s eyes - a beautiful shade of azure, widen and he too grabs an ore - the one directly next to yours. “Okay.” he nods.

Soon you make your journey back to Sanemi’s estate. Your legs are aching for a break, but you do not allow them to stop. Your kasugai crow, who you learned was named Hiyori, now laid upon your shoulder as you walked. She had since grew tired of flying above you once she realized you had no intention of stopping for the night. How could you? You passed Final Selection and now was an actual Demon Slayer.

The sky was now a dark violet color when you arrived back at the estate. You had many people to see - you agreed to visit Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho once you returned. You grew close with the young girls, often visiting them when you didn’t have to train until you dropped. You would have to thank Uzui, Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma for your combat training; Muichiro (and Ginko because she wouldn’t allow you to not acknowledge her if you met with him). Mitsuri promised you pancakes one you returned and you were craving them with extra honey - her western cooking was the best you’ve ever had.

You opened the shoji doors of Sanemi’s estate. It’s quiet inside and doesn’t appear to have anyone in it. You make your way around the estate and hum, Sanemi was not here.

You didn’t let the fact bother you. Sanemi was a hashira after all and had responsibilities. He could possibly be doing his rounds before he returned home.

You take this time to bathe, allowing all the grime to be released from your skin was refreshing. You’re unsure how long you’ve bathed for, but once your hands begin to wrinkle was when you decided to get out. You were refreshed now, dressed now in a light kimono tied loosely and your hair in a low bun.

You decide to do another round around the estate for Sanemi. You can hear them - faint footsteps.It’s coming from the opposite side of the mansion. Your feet begin to sprint across the cold hardwood floor, a wide smile on your lips.

Sanemi was here, you note, dressed in his usual Hashira attire. He appeared to have just came in from his rounds as you suspected.

“Nemi!” you exclaim, jumping to wrap your arms around the man. He doesn’t move back an inch, even with the impact of you crashing into him.

Sanemi’s nostrils fill with your scent - the familiar scent that he had longed to smell for the last week. His nerves begin to calm themselves at your touch, unaware that since you've been gone that he was unable to focus on anything but your survival.

“I’m back from Final Selection!” your heart is pumping with excitement. “I even have my own crow like you all! Her name’s Hiyori!” you continue to babble on and on about everything that happened during your week, still wrapping him in a tight embrace.

Your face then crashes into his chest and you’re silent. Sanemi doesn’t notice it at first - he assumes you were overwhelmed with emotions to fully focus on one topic at a time. But then his bare chest feels it. Wet - were you crying?

Sanemi gets his answer when your shoulders shake and his chest appears to be even more wet. He gulps, unsure on what to do. Why were you suddenly crying? Sanemi didn’t deal with emotions well. He hated when the lower ranks would cry, it irritated him to no end. It didn’t help either that they were often crying because of him - but that's besides the point.

Sanemi places a hand upon your head. “Y/N…” he trails off. “What’s wrong?”

Your face lifts to look at Sanemi. There it was again - the jolt. He hadn’t felt the jolt in his heart in a week and swears he was cured of whatever sickness he had. Your eyes are teary and wet, lashes sticking to one another.

“I’m so happy!” you sob, lips quivering.

Happy?

You were crying because you were happy?

Sanemi’s shoulders falter and now, he finds himself wanting to laugh.

“I’m happy that I passed Final Selection and you didn’t waste your time training me.” you continue, wiping your tears away with your shoulder so you wouldn’t have to unwrap your arms from Sanemi. “I’m happy I was given the opportunity to make my own decision and not be fated to one.” you’re continuing to ramble on about how happy you truly were - claiming to be happy to be surrounded by such positive people even if they were working in less than positive situations.

You do end up unwrapping your arms around Sanemi to fall to your knees. You’re bowing before him, tears not stopping. “Thank you, Sanemi.”

Sanemi gasps, but he doesn’t stiffen. “Y/N, you don’t-”

“I’m grateful that I’ve gotten to train besides you and the other Hashira and slayers.” you’re sobbing full on now, dramatic tears leaking onto the floor. “I promise to make you proud as your tsuguko! I’ll do my best on all my missions!”

Sanemi inhales. His heart is beating rapidly and he’s unsure how to respond to you. To think that he, a Hashira of many years now and had fought demons upon demons…was going to die now due to heart failure. He hoped that Shinobu and Aoi would be the first two to cry at his funeral for denying him (a fucking Hashira at that) service.

Sanemi’s mind wanders. He’s happy, as well, he supposes. Genya was alive and well, even if he refused to look his brother's way, he often kept tabs on him. Sorai would tell him everything Genya did when he wasn’t on missions. You were alive now, as well. Overly emotional and grateful as ever. Sanemi finds himself silently thanking whatever God there was out there that you wouldn’t be yet another death on his conscience.

Sanemi slams the door of the butterfly mansion open, a feral look upon his face. Naho jumps, her braids swinging around towards the sound. Kiyo’s eyes widen at Sanemi while Sumi quivers. “Where’s Kocho or Kanzaki?” he hisses at the three girls.

“S-Shinobu-san said-”

“I do not care.” Sanemi dismisses them. He doesn’t see either of the two girls he’s looking for and he turns away from them. He stalks down the halls of the butterfly mansion, in coming slayers flinging themselves into the wall just to avoid him and his wrath.

It takes another five minutes to find Shinobu and it only took him slamming open three shoji doors.

“Shinazugawa.” Shinobu’s soft smile doesn’t falter, not even when she’s annoyed with her office being intruded. She leans back in her seat and tilts her head at him.

“It happened again.” Sanemi exclaims.

Shinobu raises a brow.

“My heart jolted again yesterday. Matter of fact,” Sanemi steps inside the office. “it didn’t stop jolting for another 30 minutes.”

Shinobu snickers. “Y/N must be back from Final Selection already.” she notes, more to herself than as a statement to Sanemi. “Please tell her to come visit us at the Butterfly Mansion for any injuries she may have.”

Sanemi’s eyes are glaring at the younger girl. “What the hell does that have to do with my heart?!” he was growing irate by the second. Each time he came to this place he was kicked out by giggling girls.

“I’ve checked your heart countless times, Shinazugawa.” Shinobu states with a shake of her head. “There’s nothing wrong with it or you.”

Sanemi sighs and scoffs.

“Maybe you’re in denial?” Shinobu shrugs her shoulders.

“In denial?” Sanemi hisses. “You and that other little brat are in denial about my health!”

Shinobu wants to laugh right now, but having Sanemi constantly come into the Butterfly Mansion and scaring the nurses (and the slayers) was becoming overwhelming.

“My,” Shinobu manages to giggle. “have you…ever thought that your heart is jolting only when a certain someone is around you?”

Sanemi’s eyes squint. “Where the hell are you getting at?”

“That maybe you’ve failed to realize that your heart is jolting because you happen to…like Y/N?” Shinobu doesn’t want to cause Sanemi to convulse by saying the word “love” just yet. “There’s studies that show that boys are less smarter than girls, so I’m not surprised you cannot tell the difference between pain and feelings.”

Sanemi’s ears and neck darken a crimson color and his hands clenched into fists. Shinobu’s now full on laughing at him. He’s had enough of her and Uzui’s constant teasing.

“Fuck off.” Sanemi hisses and then turns to walk away.

“Shinazugawa!” Shinobu calls before he can storm down the hallway. “I think she likes you, too. So do the rest of the Hashira.”

Sanemi doesn’t say anything and Shinobu doesn’t expect him to, but the blush on his cheeks don’t go unnoticed.

Sanemi makes his way out of the Butterfly Mansion and back towards his estate. He managed to bring his breathing calm, but his mind is going crazy. He thinks of you and how each time he was with you, his heart goes insane and his mind seems to go blink. His anger appears to subside when you speak to him with such a soft smile. Your eyes never show any disgust towards him, instead they’re kind and warm.

“Nemi!”

Your voice echoes through his ears from behind him. He hasn’t seen you the last few hours and when he turns, he’s shocked to see your appearance. He swallows, throat quickly running dry. You’re running towards him, a wide smile on your lips. He notes that he’s rarely seen your skin - such smooth skin that now appears to shine underneath the afternoon sun. You’ve gotten your uniform and appeared to be an exact replica of Mitsuri.

“I got my uniform!” you say excitedly when you reach Sanemi.

Sanemi looks away to not catch himself staring too long at your appearance.

“Is that Y/N-chan?”

“She’s so cute!”

You’re beaming at Sanemi and he feels just how hot his body begins to feel.

“Do you feel comfortable?” Sanemi asks. You never showed this amount of skin before.

You slowly nod your head. “It’ll take some getting used to, I suppose.” you respond.

Sanemi licks his lips. His eyes roam around the area to find several slayers looking their way - your way. His nerves were now kicking in at the eyes on you.

“Do I look nice?” you ask him. “I do think it’ll be a little chilly with the uniform, but I think I’ll be alright.” you giggle to yourself.

“Is Shinazugawa-sama blushing again?”

“Why do all the girls go for guys like him?!” a slayer throws his hands in the air.

“Here.” Sanemi removes his haori and hands it over to you. He isn’t looking at you when he does so. “So you don’t get cold.”

“Shinazugawa-sama is such a nice boyfriend!” a female slayer gushes.

“Who knew he was such a-”

The slayers scurry off when a pair of lilac eyes glare at them.

You take hold of the haori with wide eyes. “But what about you, Nemi?”

“I got more.” Sanemi shrugs nonchalantly.

“Hm,” you hum, feeling the fabric in your hands. “Thank you. I’ll wear it on all my missions!” you place the haori over your shoulders and sigh happily.

Sanemi’s heart clenches and he inaudible sighs.

“Are you going back home?” you ask him. “I can cook us lunch if you don’t have anything to do!”

Sanemi nods and remains quiet.

“Good! Let’s go!” you hook your arm in his and begin walking.

Sanemi doesn’t mind your closeness, even if it does leave him surprised each time by just how willing you are to be entangled with him. While the pair of you stroll back to the estate in a comfortable silence, he’s thinking about just how nice you did look in your uniform - and how he didn’t like if anyone else thought the same.

When you suggested eating, Sanemi didn’t think you would invite others. You’ve just finished cooking when a knock sounds on his shoji doors. Sanemi doesn’t answer and you’re scurrying off to answer it yourself. The door opens and you’re beaming widely.

Sanemi wants to scoff when his brother is behind the door - him, for some odd reason Tokito and an unknown slayer with burgundy hair.

“I hope we are not intruding.” he murmurs to you, eyes only glancing at his brother for a moment. He hadn’t spoken to Sanemi in two weeks - not since the incident.

You are, Sanemi wants to say, but he only snickers to himself instead.

“Of course not!” you usher for them to enter. “I hope you all are hungry.”

Tokito remains silent when he sits upon the cushioned floor. He’s seated beside Genya and beside him, the unknown burgundy haired boy.

You go to serve the food for them, Sanemi grumbling to himself. He wanted to be with you - alone - not in his own home surrounded by brats.

You take your seat beside Sanemi and smile at the group of boys. “Please, eat.”

Muichiro wastes no time in doing as he’s told. Genya can feel eyes upon him, the glaring lilac eyes of his elder brother. He tries to think of your words two weeks prior - that Sanemi did love and care for him. It was hard believing you. He never made any attempt to speak with him after the fact and he grew slightly afraid that he would attempt to hurt him again if he tried.

“I met Shinra during Final Selection.” you tell Sanemi after a few bites of the pork cutlet. “He’s so cute.” you gush.

Shinra’s cheeks flushed crimson at the sound of his name and the compliment. He feels two sets of eyes on him - one from the white haired man who he learned quickly was a Hashira and then the boy with dark hair and a mohawk. They’re glaring, he notes, with such dark eyes and hatred.

“Look’s weak.” Sanemi retorts, sinking his teeth in the broccoli you steamed.

“Very.” Genya snorts.

Muichiro turns his eyes to look at Shinra and hums in agreement.

“That’s not nice.” you frown at the three of them. “Shinra’s is a very capable swordsman.”

Genya had no issue with the burgundy haired boy. He appeared to be close in age with him and Tokito. However, if he had your affection then that meant it was taken away from his brother (and him) and he didn’t like it.

“Shinra even helped me defeat a demon, right, Shinra-kun?”

Shinra feels his throat clog up at the amount of eyes on him. He finds himself nodding - even if it wasn’t the truth. You were lying to save him the embarrassment and that caused even more self-pity in him.

“Is that so?” Sanemi snickers. He leans forward. “He doesn’t even look like he knows how to hold a sword. I’m to believe someone like him helped you?”

You nod your head. You weren’t going to let them bring down Shinra’s self esteem about himself.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t go on missions yourself.” Sanemi states. “If you need help from a weakling.”

Genya watches the way his brother glares at Shinra and now he understands where this was going.

Sanemi was jealous - for no reason. Shinra was (for now) a weakling Mizunoto, yet you shared the rank with him. You were just lucky enough to have trained alongside several Hashira. Shinra was also only a child while you were an adult and only had eyes for Sanemi - but he knew his brother well enough to know that anyone was competition.

“Y/L-san is an amazing swordsman…woman…” Shinra’s voice is low and barely audible. He’s scared to even look the white haired man in the face but he’s grown great respect for you. “She killed the most demons during Final Selection…”

“How many did you kill?” Sanemi questions.

“I-I…” Shinra gulps. He hasn’t killed nearly as much as you or the other survivors. He only managed to cut the heads of three - and even that took a lot out of him.

“How about this,” Sanemi takes a bite of the pork and stands. “you show me just how good of a swordsman you are.”

“We’re eating.” you sigh, watching as Sanemi rounds the table to put (more like snatch) Shinra’s shoulder.

“It’ll only be a moment.” Sanemi yanks Shinra from his cushioned seat and pulls him to his feet. “I have an extra sword.”

Shinra is visibly shaking in Sanemi’s tight hold. He’s pushed out the door and it causes Muichiro to snort. “Y/N.”

“Huh, yes, Tokito?” you say to him, smiling apologetically. “Is the food alright?

Muichiro nods. He licks his lips before his eyes turn to you. “Please tell Shinazugawa that no one is planning on stealing you from him.” he says nonchalantly. “All the slayers that do voice their attractions are scared of being castrated.”

You laugh nervously, eyes going wide. You feel yourself grow hot with embarrassment.

“Genya even threatens a few that talk about you suggestively.”

Genya whips his head to glare at Muichiro, cheeks flushed. “I do not!” he hisses, denying rather quickly.

“Yes you do.” Muichiro takes a sip of his drink. “You talk down to anyone that thinks they could speak to Y/N.” Muichiro scoffs. And he was supposed to be the one with memory issues.

You get up from your cushioned seat and nod your head at the two (now bickering, more on Genya’s side than Muichiro) boys. You place a hand on both of their heads and it silences them. “You two are so cute.” you tell them. “Makes me wish I had younger siblings.” your eyes glance outside. You were going to have to save Shinra from Sanemi’s torture right about now.

You bow and excuse yourself and make your way out the shoji doors just as Sanemi swings a wooden sword Shinra’s way. “Sanemi!” you call, eyes glaring at the man. “Leave Shinra alone! We’ve come here for lunch not to train!”

Shinra’s able to dodge Sanemi’s attack by the grace of God, sweat pooling down his forehead and whimpering for whoever to save him.

Sanemi stops his attack and turns to you. You appeared to be upset, eyebrows knitted to a scowl. Your arms are crossed and for a split second his eyes flicker to your breast pressed together.

“Shinra, let’s finish up your lunch, yeah?” you tell the boy who nods his head, far too excited to be away from the white haired maniac.

As Shinra enters the house once more, your eyes turn to Sanemi. “What’s that about?”

Sanemi drops his wooden swords and goes to make his way back into his home. You step in front of the man. “You can’t keep harassing the slayers. They’re terrified of you!”

Sanemi scoffs. “If they’re terrified of me then a demon would have their fucking heads.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re a scary man.”

Sanemi tilts his head and crosses his own arms. “You aren’t afraid of me.”

“Of course not.” you give him a teasing smile. “You’re nice when I’m around.”

Sanemi grumbles; maybe that’s why others would rather you be present if they had to approach him.

“Promise me,” you begin, coming closer to him. You take his large, calloused hands in your soft ones. “That you won’t keep harassing the slayers. Especially Shinra and Genya.”

Sanemi groans. He likes the soft and gentleness of your hands on his own.

“I can’t promise that.” Sanemi says. “They all enjoy pissing me off.”

You giggle. “But they avoid you!” you exclaim. “Just try.”

Sanemi nods his head with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever.” he mumbles.

You wrap your pinky around his longer one, a tint of mischief in your eyes. “Swear.”

“Swear.” Sanemi murmurs. “Whoever lies will be made to swallow a thousand needles.” the two of you say in unison, a wide smile on your lips and a low one on his.

“CAW! Y/L Y/N is to report to Chiyoda City! A demon has been sighted in the Shrine!” Hiyori soars above you, her wings flapping.

Your eyes widen and you stand to your feet excitedly. “We’re going on a mission? Our first mission!” you were ready for a mission the same day you were given your nichirin sword.- a long sword with a black handguard that wraps right above your hand, offering an amazing grip. The blade is long and shiny against the bright sun - an emerald color shining down the sharpest part of the blade.

“Sanemi’s doing his rounds. I’m sad he wasn’t home to hear.” you feel saddened, but this was your moment to make him proud and assure that you’d come back safe.

You make your journey out of the estate with Hiyori flying above you, leading the way. You’re pumping with excitement that it’s ridiculous. You were going head first to a demon - but you were bouncing with joy as if you were meeting your husband. You were just ecstatic to kill as many demons as you could and work your way up the ranks. You heard the amount of people wishing to become Hashira, but you’re content not being one. The 9 Hashira you’ve met were more than amazing at their jobs.

You reach the area in the middle of the night, the moon shining brightly and the area quietly. The air appears to be murky and foggy, a low fog that’s nearly blinding. You slow your walk, drawing your blade while your eyes scan the area.

A sound to your left heightens your senses. More sounds from your right, above and even forward you. Small figures appear, no taller than toddler sizes. They’re demons - eyes black and soulless. There’s scars oozing blood beneath both of their eyes and there's a shadowy smoke that surrounds them as they push closer to you. As they come closer, you note that they appear to be floating rather than walking.

You raise your sword and swing when one shadowy figure lungs at you. You slice at their head, cutting off each one with swift movements - but they appear to never stop coming. It’s as though as soon as you kill one, five more come sprinting after you. Each shadowy figure has their own weapon - a knife, sword, cutlass.

“That man despises you.” a gravelly voice hisses behind you. The shadowy figures disappear and you’re left in complete silence.

You turn around, eyes glaring into the darkness. “Show yourself!” you call into said darkness.

Your feet walk stealthy behind the shrine where what appears to be a large pond is located. The water is still; unnerved.

“You’re nothing to him!” the same voice hisses, this time besides you and now you sense it. A hand slams against your cheek and you’re sent flying towards the pond. It wasn’t deep, luckily, and you managed to keep your sword clenched into your hands.

You leep from the pond just as the demon lunges at you. It appears to be a woman. She’s tall, appearing just a few inches smaller than Uzui. Her eye sockets are wide but they’re soulless, no pupils in sight. Her hair is long and flowy behind her, but appears to be wet and stringy. Her skin is a dull gray color and she’s snarling at you.

“Look at you,” the demon snarls, her fingernails gnawing at her skin. “So young and beautiful. No man will ever respect such a whore!”

The demon lunges at you once more and you manage to cut her hand off, long claws falling onto the ground below you.

A loud, blood curdling scream echoes off the trees, coming from the demon. The sound is unbearable and you’re sure the demon is causing your ears to bleed.

You got to your knees.

“What would your father think seeing you now?” a voice says.

“What about your mother? Your brother?”

The atmosphere appears colder now, the screams of the demon growing louder and louder.

“What do you think Sanemi would think of you once you die here?” the screams appear louder and you’re certain your ears are bleeding. “When you die here tonight, you will be forgotten - just like your father forgot about you.”

You can feel the anger inside of you bubbling at the taunting words of the demon. “Come with me, I’ll put you out of your miserable misery.”

You lift your sword, trying your hardest to ignore the ringing in your ear. The demon flings itself at you and in one quick movement, you’re dodging its attack and slicing off her other hand. You get to your feet, sprinting towards the Demon. It wails loudly once more, but you ignore the painful ringing in your ears. “Wind Breathing: Second Form!” you lift the sword upwards towards the right and above your head. You release four vertical slashes resembling claws towards the demon. “Claws-Purifying Wind!”

You dash towards the Demon as your attack slashes them, black blood oozing out from their wounds. You make it your mission to get rid of this demon once and for all, raising your sword and bringing it down on the demon's neck.

You drop to your feet, eyes on the demon's head a few feet away.The screaming releasing from its throat grows silent by the second as the head begins to disintegrate.

It takes you a moment to move, your mind racing at the words the demon said.

That man despises you.

No man will ever respect a whore.

When you die here, you’ll be forgotten.

You sheathe your sword and begin to walk. Your ears are ringing as you make your way back towards your destination, Hiyori flying above you. By the time you’d return, the sun will be present and you’d hope to come face to face with Sanemi once more. You’ve grown close to the man and it causes you great shame to know that the words of the demon got to you; causing your heart to ache. You no longer cared about your fathers thoughts about you; you dealt with the man for years and his harsh ways. But the thought of Sanemi - someone you considered to be a great friend, even someone you loved dearly - forgetting about you; despising you.

You exhale, deciding to pick up your pace to get back to the estate - and Sanemi - faster.

Sanemi’s sword slices against the tatami mat, slicing with ease. His mind is on you and when you are due to return. He’s upset that you were set on a mission - your first one at that - while he was out on his own. He’s positive that you were ecstatic and jumping with joy - it causes his heart to beat harder. He regrets not being there to send you off, even when his nerves screams at him to find you.

You’re an adult, he tells himself.

You’re now a slayer, fully capable of fighting low-level demons.

But still, you were someone he cared about.

Sanemi cannot keep his mind at ease when Genya is away on missions, now that he has you and his brother on his mind, he’s sure he’ll never find peace.

Sorai, Sanemi’s crow, flocks his wings and places himself on a sliced tatami mat. The words released from the crows mouth has Sanemi’s eyes widening and his blood going cold.

Rengoku.

Dead.

Kyojuro is dead.

Sanemi’s right hand clenches his sword in his palm.

“I will annihilate all unsightly demons.” he hisses, turning away to make his way out of his home. His heart is pumping out his chest now and his nerves are screaming.

Kyojuro was a Hashira - a skilled one. What did that mean for you and Genya? You were out on a mission as we speak, too far away to know of Kyojuro’s death but that doesn’t ease his nerves one bit. He feels jittery. His mind is wandering to you fighting whatever demon you were sent out to and returning with serious injuries. His heart clenches when his mind flashes with you covered in blood, body lifeless.

“Sorai!” Sanemi hisses and his crow squawks. “Go find Y/N.”

Sorai flocks his wings and begins his journey. Lilac eyes follow him until he’s nothing but a mere figure in the sky.

Sanemi inhales deeply and exhales. He runs a calloused hand through his hair and down his face. He notices that his hand is trembling lightly with nerves.

You release a low sigh when you notice the familiar sight of the Butterfly Mansion. Your body aches and your ears are still ringing, but you manage to make it in one piece.

“CAW!”

Sharp feet landed upon your head.You hiss at the impact, wailing your hands around. “Sorai?” you murmur. “Where’s Sanemi?” you ask the crow.

“Shinazugawa-sama has sent me to assure your safety!” the crow squawks.

You find yourself grinning. You pet the crows head lightly. “Yes, I’ve arrived safely.” you tell him. “I’m going to the Butterfly Mansion to assure my injuries aren’t severe.”

Sorai squawks again, wings flapping to fly and give the news to Sanemi.

You enter the mansion to find it surprisingly quiet.

“Y/N-chan!”

It’s Naho. She’s crying at the sight of you - did you look that bad?

“I’ll go get Aoi! Shinobu-san is busy.”

You follow behind her to the infirmary. You’re glad you can finally lay down and relax.

You enter the room and groan. You fell onto the nearest bed and sighed.

“You must be in such pain.” Aoi murmurs, eyeing the way your ears hold dried blood.

“Little bit.” you mumble a response. “Just feel a little…tired.” you close your eyes, lids feeling heavy.

“Okay. You can sleep,Y/N-chan. I’ll give you some medicine for your wounds.”

You’re into a deep sleep by the time you hear Aoi’s words. It felt nice to be able to relax for now and not worry about anything.

Sanemi slams the shoji doors open, causing several nurses to yelp in surprise.

“Shinazugawa!” Aoi growls, eyebrows knitting into a scowl. “How many times-”

“What happened to her?”

Aoi watches with angered eyes as Sanemi stalks towards your sleeping figure.

Sanemi lowers himself to inspect you. There’s a few scratches on your skin and blood (dried) on the sides of your ears.

“She passed out around 10 minutes ago.” Aoi responds. “Now leave, she needs-”

Sanemi sits on the bed beside yours, deciding to ignore Aoi altogether. Aoi scoffs. She turns her head to the other nurses and nods. They continue to scurry off out of the room.

“I’ll be back with some medicine for her.” Aoi grumbles and makes her way out of the room.

Sanemi allows himself to breathe now. When Sorai had come back to him and stated that you had returned safely but at the Butterfly Mansion, he had to be sure you were safe.

It was three hours later when you finally stirred awake. You feel groggily and your eyes are heavy. You yawned, pushing yourself up in the bed.

“You’re awake.”

You yelp at the sudden voice. “Nemi.”

Sanemi’s arms are crossed over his chest, eyes studying you.

“How long have you been here?”

Sanemi shrugs. “Not too long.” Sanemi responds. He hasn’t left since you were emitted.

“Ah,” you lean against the metal frame. “I’ve returned from my mission.”

You’re smiling tiredly at him.

“My heart feels so full and heavy. My mind cannot focus on anything.” you explain. “It’s all so overwhelming to return alive and well.”

“Your ears are bleeding. Are you sure you’re well?”

“Yes.” you nod. “The demon was a very loud screamer.” you giggle to yourself.

Sanemi swallows. He’s unsure how he was going to tell you about Kyojuro. You’ve grown close to the man and learning of his death would cause you great sorrow, and he didn’t like to see you upset or sad.

“Nemi?”

“Kyojuro…” Sanemi begins. “...went on a mission before you had. He didn’t make it.”

You tilt your head, ears registering his words.

“Kyojuro…is dead?” you swallow, throat dry.

It feels foolish to cry for someone knowing that this life was never guaranteed. You’ve grown close to him, sometimes speaking with him whenever you were free.

“Nemi…” you trail off, feeling your eyes become wet. You feel for Kyojuro and his family and it even feels selfish of you to be scared for Sanemi’s life now. Kyojuro was a Hashira just like Sanemi and if he was ultimately brought to death…

Your legs ache, but you do not hesitate to jump from your bed to where Sanemi sat. You wrapped him in a tight embrace, wet eyes crushing into his neck.

Sanemi’s shocked by your actions. He didn’t know Kyojuro’s death would impact you this much.

You sniffled in his neck. “I don’t want you to ever be in harm's way.” you murmur. Sanemi, Genya, Shinra…you didn’t want to see death for anyone apart from the Corps.

Sanemi gulps. He places an arm around you to bring you closer. He doesn’t usually touch you - sober, that was - but you were always clingy. He wants to comfort you, to tell you that everything would be alright. He wants to tell you that he wasn’t going to die - but he doesn’t wish to disappoint you with false promises he couldn’t guarantee.

Sanemi doesn’t speak as he holds onto you, but he’s positive that he too does not wish you to ever be in harm's way - he’s unsure if he would be able to live with himself if you or Genya didn’t come back from a mission alive.

The next few months consist of you and Sanemi attending missions alongside one another, sometimes with other slayers. You want to question why you haven’t been on a solo mission, but you don’t. You assume after Kyojuro’s death, that the Corps would rather keep lower ranks with higher ones, but you cannot be 100% sure.

However, you wouldn’t complain about being sent out with Sanemi. He was more of a guide, making sure nothing got too hectic for you - and it never did. He allowed you to behead any demons that you saw and the mission was complete. Then the two of you would return back to the estate until the next mission.

Weekly, you would have lunch that you’d cook with Sanemi, Genya, Shinra and Muichiro (whenever they weren’t sent on missions). Sanemi managed to bite his tongue and instead would grumble to himself, but it was progress. You enjoyed cooking for them and saw the three younger boys as little brothers.

Sanemi drew the line when you invited more - Tanjiro was such a lovely boy that you couldn’t help but want to feed him. With Tanjiro came Zenitsu and Inosuke - a brawl ensued when Inosuke insulted Sanemi and Genya retorted, both teenagers throwing insults and punches. But you enjoyed the lunch, nonetheless.

“We have another mission.” Sanemi says during breakfast. “Hiyori delivered it while you were bathing.”

“Ah, is that so?” you bring the sweet potato in your mouth and bite.

Sanemi nods. “A Hashira is to be present. Me.” he says. “More slayers are attending, as well. We were told to pack a bag - it might take longer than we expect.”

You nod and when the two of you are done with breakfast, you go to pack your bag. It can be classified as an undercover mission, so casual wear is expected.

It’s not long that you, Sanemi and a group of slayers are making your journey to Shinjuku, expected to arrive right in the evening. Sanemi wasn’t one to make stops, so you managed to pack a few snacks for the long way.

Once you arrive to Shinjuku you’re relieved. The sun was barely shining and you just wanted to find whatever demon was here and kill it. Seeing as the lot of you were expected to be undercover, you’re sure it wouldn’t work out that way.

“You,” Sanemi points to a group of 5 slayers. “find an inn and see what you can gather about our mission.”

The five slayers bow and head on their way. Sanemi’s turns his eyes to another four. “You do the same in the opposite direction.”

There's only you, him and two slayers left - one girl named Sumire and a boy by the name of Roshi. “There’s an inn on the outskirts of Shinjuku. We’ll head there, find a room and change. The sun will fall soon and we’ll have to investigate whatever demon lurks here.”

The inn wasn’t far and a ten minute walk has you four arriving there. It appears to be the nicest Inn in the city for it to be such a long distance from it.

“Welcome in!” a woman behind the counter eyes the four of you, her eyes recognizing the uniform displayed. “Two rooms?”

“Four.” Sanemi corrects.

“Ah…” the woman leans forward, eyes staring at Sanemi’s chest, a grin formed onto her lips. “I apologize, sir, but we only do couples in Shinjuku.”

Sanemi scoffs. “What type of shit is that?” he hisses. He’s never heard of an entire city only catering to couples.

“We’re known as a honeymoon retreat here.” the lady shrugs. “I do apologize for any inconvenience.”

“It’s fine.” you sigh. “I can room with Sumire-”

“Please don’t.” Roshi whimpers, shaking his head. He wanted to be nowhere near Sanemi - especially not when his annoyance was rising. “I’ll take the floor so Sumire can have the bed - really!”

“Then it’s settled. Two rooms for two couples.” the lady turns to grasp a set of keys in both manicured hands and she dangles them out for you all to grasp.

Sanemi snatches the key and scurries down the hall while Sumire takes the other.

“We’ll get settled, changed and make our way out for the night.” you tell Sumire and Roshi.

“Yes.” Sumire and Roshi reply in unison.

Sanemi slams the door shut as the two of you enter, dropping his bag onto the large bed.

“The sun will be setting soon.” you note aloud. “Do we have a set plan?”

“There’s obviously something going on here.” Sanemi says. He removes a yukata from his belongings. “Shinjuku was not known to be a couples retreat - not until now.”

“Do you think whatever demons here are targeting couples?” you tilt your head to think. Eating two people would be smarter than one, but still, a demon was stronger than a regular civilian. “It seems to be a lot of effort on the demon's part.”

Sanemi shrugs. Whatever the demon was doing, he’d be sure to put an end to it.

Sanemi and you roamed Shinjuku. It appeared bright even when the sun was down. You noticed that it indeed was a couples affair - you noticed no one walking alone. What also caught your attention was the lack of children present - or those who were older.

“You two look new here.”

Sanemi’s eyes flicker to the voice.

“We are.” you smile at them, inching closer to Sanemi.

“Oh! How long have you two been married?” the woman asks and now you’re unsure what to say.

“Honeymoon.” Sanemi responds. “Was recommended by a friend.”

The woman nods her head. “It’s amazing here! We’ve been here twice already. Have you two been to…”

You await for her to continue, but her eyes look as if waiting for you to catch on.

“...Uh…?” you turn to Sanemi who doesn’t even look interested.

“The couples…brothel?” the woman flushes bright red as she speaks, her husband laughing nervously.

“Couples brothel?”

Sanemi was intrigued now.

“Yes. You have to be approved first - we haven’t.”

“What do you do there?” you ask, unsure of what in the world this mission was going to put you through.

“If approved, you get to be doted on…” the woman is far too embarrassed to continue but you’re sure you get where she’s going.

“Ah.” you nod your head. “I never knew that was something.”

“Yes. It happens every day at a different inn.” the husband says.

“Today should be…”

Sanemi sighs. He has a guess of what inn it would be happening at.

“We have to go.” Sanemi says, stomping off.

“Sorai.” Your eyes look into the sky at the flying bird. “Inform the other slayers of the demon. Tell them to patrol the streets and make sure no civilians are harmed.”

“Where are we-”

“Back to the Inn.” Sanemi answers your question before you can respond. “That woman insisted on couples because that’s how the demon feeds without getting caught.”

“She chooses her victims strategically.” you murmur. “Not everyone gets accepted.”

“She must know we’re slayers - or at least senses that there’s something off about us.” Sanemi picks up the pace. “Only way to find out…”

Sanemi wraps you in a tight embrace as you both enter the inn. It catches you by surprise - his sudden closeness.

“Hello!” a lady claps her hands at your arrival. “Are you guests here already?” it’s not the same woman as yesterday, you note.

Sanemi nods his head, arms wrapped tightly around you. “Yes. We’re hoping we can join.”

The woman is nodding, quite aware of what Sanemi is asking of her. “You’re in luck. Our mistress had not yet chosen a couple.” she eyes the way you and Sanemi appear. “I’m positive we found a good choice in the two of you.”

Sanemi swallows. He’s unsure how, but she knows there’s something off about the two of you - you aren’t an ordinary couple. She’s no demon, he would know if she was.

“Follow me,” the woman motions with her hand for the two of you to come.

You walk, as does Sanemi. He won’t admit it, but having your body against his makes him feel at ease; just knowing you’re close and away from harm.

The hallway is long and seemingly away from the other rooms of the inn. The lights grow dim the closer the three of you step. You were sure it had to do with the demon.

“Go right into the room. The mistress will be in shortly. There are refreshments inside, as well.” The woman slides open the doors and bows as you enter. “Do have some fun while you wait.” She shuts them and you hear her footsteps pat down the hall until they’re inaudible.

“Room’s nice.” your eyes scan around the room, appearing quite large in size and lights just as dim as the hallway.

Sanemi grunts but doesn’t say a response. He sits upon the mat, eyes scanning for any sign of the demon.

You take a seat besides him and inhale. The room was humid.

“Have your sword ready.” Sanemi murmurs. You’re seated besides him, far too close. His noses appear to be heightened, your aroma nearly intoxicating him. He swallows thickly.

“It’s fucking hot.” Sanemi hisses. “Where’s that bitch?”

You were beginning to feel the same way. Your kimono wasn’t tight, but it felt as if it was sticking to you. The air felt so heavy, humid and…you shiver, goosebumps erupting onto your skin.

“I feel weird.” you tell Sanemi after a long moment.

Sanemi’s eyes turn to you besides him. He notes there’s sweat lining your forehead and you’re panting lightly. Your legs are shuffling together, hands clenching in your lap. He notes that in the midst of your anxious state, you loosened your kimono and beneath it shows your uniform - the same uniform you wore when he gifted you his haori. He’d scream and berate the perverted kakushi for a new uniform just for you to wear both, stating that you didn’t want to be a bother. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the way you looked in it, not at all. He enjoyed it too much, often finding his eyes and mind wandering to places they shouldn’t.

“You should drink something.” Sanemi tears his eyes away from you to eye the refreshments besides them. There isn’t any water, just wine, but it’ll have to do. “Just enough so you won’t feel parched.”

You nod your head. You wouldn’t be off your game after a sip of wine. You reach for the wine besides Sanemi, a low apology when your arm touches his. It sends a jolt throughout him, this time reaching lower than his heart.

Sanemi’s eyes are shameless now. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s watching you. Your hands are shaking as you take the bottle of wine in your hands. You unscrew it and begin to pour. “W-Would you like some?”

Sanemi blinks at the sound of your voice, but he nods. He takes the small, silver goblet from your trembling hands and nods his thanks. He drinks the wine in one swift movement, downing it while his eyes watch yours. He was sure he could have another, and another as long as you served him.

You aren’t as fast as Sanemi. You smell the wine first before going in to take a sip. It’s good - expensive too. You find yourself drinking the wine keen, enjoying the refreshing taste it gives.

Sanemi’s eyes watch as the wine, a crimson red color, drips from the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, to your chin and drips onto your collarbone. It teases him, he thinks, as it slowly drips onto your exposed breasts.

Sanemi licks his lips and groans. He yanks the wine bottle and pours himself another and downs it. He goes to pour himself another one, but he feels a hand on his wrist.

“You’re going to drink it all.” you say, voice laced with mischief.

Sanemi inhales. The room was growing hotter.

Sanemi pours the wine, but this time he doesn’t drink it. He lifts it to your own lips, tapping them so you’d open them. You do, gently drinking the wine from his hands. You couldn’t contain the laughter coming from your throat as you do so, the wine splashing onto your kimono.

Sanemi feels hot all over again, his uniform beneath his yukata growing tighter.

“Nemi?”

Sanemi gulps. “Hm?”

“Do you think I’m hot?”

Sanemi coughs at your question, flushing.

Why was the room growing hotter?

Why does his clothes feel like they’re sticking to him?

Sanemi was growing confused by the second - why were the two of you even in this room?

“Why do you ask?” Sanemi drops the goblet.

“Because you never say it.” Were you intoxicated now? You didn’t appear to be, your words weren’t slurring and your vision didn’t appear hazy. “Are you attracted to me?” Sanemi feels you come closer. He’s stiff - you had to be drunk. You’re pushing off your kimono, now just only in the revealing corp uniform. He gasps when you climb into his lap, both legs trapping him beneath you.

“You look scared.” You were teasing him. You sit directly onto him, the bulge of his cock twitching when he feels the heartbeat that’s your pussy. “You’re supposed to be the fearless Wind Hashira.”

Sanemi places his hands against your exposed thighs and groans at the smoothness of your skin. He’d often wake from dreams of you and him being in this very position - he’d either have to shower with the coldest water or pump himself until he was cumming. The last option was the most embarrassing.

“Are you afraid of me?” you’re teasing him again, repeating the same words he said to you in Asakusa. Though he wasn’t pressing himself against you like this, he wouldn’t complain either.

Sanemi groans once more at the feeling of you slightly grinding against him.

Yes, Sanemi was afraid of you. You made him feel different - the jolting in his heart that dives all the way down to his cock. He often finds himself staring at you, so long that his eyes grow dry and he has to blink just to regain moisture. He often has to hear Uzui’s and Shinobu’s teasing of his feelings for you, no matter how much he attempts to deny it himself.

“No.” Sanemi murmurs, even if it was a lie.

“Then kiss me.” you lean forward, inches away from Sanemi’s lips. He gulps, licking his lips. Your lavender aroma fills his nostrils and he finds all the sanity he had left gone.

Sanemi presses his lips against yours, his fingernails digging into the skin of your thigh. He doesn’t want to let you go - whatever this was he doesn’t want it to end. All that clouds his thoughts now were you - your scent, your touch, the sound of you. It intoxicates him that whatever the two of you were initially supposed to be doing in this room has since been forgotten.

You feel your throat tighten and you’re being lifted. Your eyes shoot open and you’re gasping for air, eyes watching someone - you? It wasn’t you.

The demon had taken the form of you now, leaning against a panting Sanemi. He’s in a trance, you note, not noticing that he was now in the hands of the demon. Her eyes look up at you once for a second and now, your blood is running cold. ‘Lower Rank Six’ engraved into her eyes.

You struggle to get yourself loose. It’s obvious that the demon has Sanemi in a trance and you were the one that needed to behead the bitch.

“Thank you for bringing me a Hashira.” the demon cackles. “I can show my lord that I am capable of killing a Hashira and then I’ll work my way up. He has given me a second chance just for this moment!”

You struggle against a hooked tail, but manage to get one arm loose to unsheathe your sword. You swipe at it, slashing it so you can release yourself. “Get away from him!”

The demon’s eyes widen but she then laughs. “I’m sorry I have to consume your lover.” she taunts. “Virgins don’t know what to do with a man.” the demon taunts. The air appears to be foggy and once again you feel hot with desire.

“You’re nothing but a demon that’s going to die here.” you spit at her.

The demon shrieks at your words. “Such a disgusting human! You don’t deserve to be in my presence!”

You swipe your sword to dodge her attack. You needed to get this over with now before you wasted any more time. Your mind was fogging with whatever she’s done, an obvious demon blood art.

“You’re nothing but a weak lower moon.” you spat back at her with the same venom.

The demon hisses and sends an array of attacks with her hooked tail. “Wind Breathing: Third Form:” you proceed to release a whirlwind of slashes around you to defend yourself from her attack.”Clean Storm Wind Tree!” Your eyes focus on her neck - you had to finish her off now. You raise your sword and slash it across her neck, a clean swipe that cuts the demon’s head right off.

The demon screams at her sudden defeat, but another gush of fog surrounds the entirety of the room just as her head and body harshly crash onto the ground.

You drop your sword beside you, making your way to Sanemi. His eyes are closed and he appears to be asleep.

“Nemi?” you call, falling to your knees. You place a hand upon his cheek and flinch when his eyes dart open. “Nemi…”

Your words trailed off and neither of you talked, only stared at the other. The room was boiling now, sweat pooling off of your body. You were sure you’d hear a pin drop with how silent the room remained.

“We should…go…” you managed to speak, but it was difficult. Your throat is dry and your ears are beginning to ring. Your clothing is uncomfortable and tight, sticking to your skin like glue. “Nemi…I-I don’t feel good.” you admit to him after another few moments of tortured silence. Your legs are beginning to clench together, the friction feeling good, an electric shock between your legs.

You knew this feeling, you were no prude. You were sexually frustrated. There was no doubt a wet spot between your legs and the friction of your thighs clenching together brought a temporary satisfaction. You would admit that you touched yourself often when you needed to just to let loose and unwind, but that frustration wasn’t anywhere near how you felt now.

You scoff bitterly to yourself. To think you endured hellish training to become a slayer just for sexual frustration to be your downfall.

“Let’s go.” Sanemi nods, head heavy. “We need to get our stuff from the room.”

Standing is difficult for Sanemi. His clothing is tight and there’s an obvious bulge in his uniform pants. He allows you to lead the way, his sane mind screaming to not stare at the way your ass moves, but he doesn’t care. He was a man, after all, a man drugged by a demon. He wants to laugh at the circumstances.

The woman is nowhere to be found when you pass the front end of the inn. You assumed she was nothing but a pawn for the demon and was left alive as long as she offered her humans to consume.

Entering the bedroom, you close the shoji doors behind you and Sanemi.

“I hope everyone else is alright.” you murmur to yourself, leaning against the door. “We should probably be heading out-” You stop speaking once you realize Sanemi’s hands are clenching his hair tightly. His chest is rising and falling and he appears to be in pain.

“Nemi-” you reach out to touch him, but Sanmi harshly pushes you away. Your eyes widen at the sudden action. “I-I…are you in pain? I-”

“Leave, Y/N.” Sanemi’s gruff voice startles you. “Go to Kocho and take the slayers with you.”

“I can’t leave you here.” you say. You’re ashamed that his voice turns you on. You hold the edge of your uniform skirt. “You’re in pain-”

“You know I’m not in pain!” Sanemi hisses. His tone would have anyone else cowering, but here you stood with wide (heart) eyes and clenching thighs. “You know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

You gulp at his words.

“I’m trying my hardest not to fuck you against the wall.” Sanemi stares at your face. “Leave. Now.”

Sanemi turns away from you and you’re shocked by his choice of words. You’re certain the demon art is affecting him just as much as it’s affecting you.

But…there it was. The sensation pooling between your legs - the heartbeat taunting you. His words made you wet, you note. It was a warning - don’t come closer, don’t keep trying to help; run away before he’d do something that he wouldn’t do normally. It’s a sort of adrenaline rush to be playing with fire.

“I can help you.” you gulp. You decide to step closer to him and wrap your hands onto his bicep. “I want-”

Sanemi’s fast in his action, gripping your jaw to press a firm kiss upon your lips. He’s holding back, you know, not wishing to hurt you. He knows you haven’t done this before and the sane part of him wants to stop - to not take you while he cannot control himself. “You need to leave, Y/N.” Sanemi’s pleading with you now. He didn’t want to have your first time like this. He’s trembling, all ounce of strength fighting animalistic urges. He almost feels nauseous, mind flashing in all the ways he could take you right now - how vulnerable you’d be beneath him and how good you’d look stuffed with his seed.

Sanemi shakes his head aggressively, wanting to get rid of the perverted thoughts of you, but he cannot. It’s humiliating to think that these thoughts were there before, but with the demon art, it’s completely unbearable.

You were always the stubborn one, never heeding warning. You raise a hand to place it upon his yukuta. You clench it to pull him forward to press your lips upon his once more. Sanemi’s breathing intensifies in the kiss and still, there’s a little part in him that’s holding back the urges to completely demolish you like the demon art (and him, as well) desired.

“Let me help you, Nemi. It doesn’t matter how long it takes!” you’re pleading with him now, heavily panting when you release his lips for oxygen. You’re also affected by the demon art, even if your own desires were buried deep. “You’d help me so much. I can do the same.” The sound of your begs drive Sanemi wild, his mind refusing to stop sending the illusions of you in different, perverted positions until he acts upon them.

Sanemi’s hands reach out to touch you, bringing you closer to him. You’re against his chest and when his hands sneak out to touch the curves of your body, he knows he won’t be able to stop.

Stop - Sanemi tells himself.

You'll regret this.

He’d regret this.

He’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state - this isn’t you, this is the demon art.

You want this - another part of his brain denies the sane part of him. There’s an internal dialogue happening right in his mind.

He wanted this. He’d always wanted this.

He wanted to be deep inside of you - so deep that there wasn’t a way you couldn’t not be impregnated.

You’d be his and his alone - you’d give him the family he desired.

“Nemi, please…”

Sanemi doesn’t hold back any longer, fully succumbing to the demon art that’s blinding his best judgment. Your back slams against the futon, sending shocks all over your body, but you aren’t upset at Sanemi’s sudden change in demeanor. His hands are ripping at your uniform, not caring about any damage it causes. He shudders when his hands finally manage to touch you. The countless times he would touch himself to any little amount of skin you showed him - and now you were nearly nude before him.

Sanemi never wanted to thank a demon before in his life.

You’re moaning when Sanemi’s lips kiss along your neck, tongue trailing along as he does so. His hands are groping your breast, the bandages binding them are ripped apart in seconds and they spring free.

Sanemi’s face is between your breasts in seconds, kissing sloppily. You’re so beautiful. He wanted to admire your beauty as much as he could - there was no going back now and who knows what would happen when the demon art wore off. But Sanemi couldn’t slow his pace now, you made him delirious.

Your body jerks when you feel a warm, wet sensation on your nipples. Sanemi’s tongue suckles on your left while his thumb tugs on the right. It causes you to moan louder, the feeling foreign and you never wanted it to end.

It wasn’t soon until Sanemi had you fully naked before him. He’s in awe, truly, eyes completely blown out. It’s unclear to him how he could still manage to hold back completely being barbaric when it comes to the sight of you, but maybe it’s the respect he held dear to his heart for you.

Sanemi’s lips kiss down your breast, to your stomach down to your abdomen. He pushes your legs apart and swallows when he catches sight just how wet you were.

You squirm under Sanemi’s gaze, unsure what he was doing. You go to close your legs but Sanemi only pushes them apart further.

“N-Nemi!” you gasp once you feel his tongue flat against your clit. It’s a weird feeling of euphoria that has your eyes rolling. “S-stop!” you’re struggling against Sanemi’s tongue, doing everything in your power to get him to stop. “I can’t take anymore, Nemi…”

Sanemi doesn’t care about your babblings. Your taste intoxicates him just like your scent does. Your moans are so sweet, like his favorite tune playing again and again in his ears. His fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh and he’s bobbing his head back and forth over and over again until you’re sobbing.

Sanemi lifts his head from your swollen clit and licks his lips. He’s hovering above your twitching form and even now as you’re overstimulated with pleasure and sobbing, he cannot bring himself to stop.

“Nemi…”

Sanemi presses three fingers against your clit, rubbing tauntingly. “You can take it.” he encourages. After all, if you cannot handle his tongue and fingers, how’d you ever handle his cock?

Sanemi rubs a few more times before his fingers inch inside of you. His lips are kissing along your face, kissing along at the tears of pleasure.

You’re tight and it excites Sanemi. Knowing that he would be the one to deflower you - be the first (and preferably only) man you’d been with. It causes goosebumps to litter his skin.

The feeling of Sanemi’s fingers inside of you hurts - you’ve never done so before. He isn’t going slow either to allow you to adjust, he’s pumping with such force that it compels you into pleasure.

“I feel weird, Nemi…” you’re panting, feeling the bubbling feeling deep in your stomach. “Stop, I-I don’t wanna cum like this.” your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him - even if Sanemi refuses. “I wanna feel you around me when I do.”

Sanemi’s cock twitches at your words, but he wastes no time.

With hooded eyes, you watch as Sanemi undresses. You hadn’t realized just how clothed he was while you laid completely bare.

Sanemi’s body was beautiful, chiseled muscles sculpting his entire body. You flush at the sight of his completely nude body - cock erect. Your legs twitch with nervousness..

Sanemi hovers above you. There’s a flash in his eyes - you notice. His forehead is pressed against yours and for a moment his eyes are soft, no longer harboring the feral reaction.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” he murmurs to you. It’s the voice that belonged to Sanemi - not the one under the demon art, but the man that you trained alongside for a year.

You didn’t have the chance to respond. Sanemi is entering you now and your hands go to clench his biceps harshly. It doesn’t hurt him, of course, but the pressure for you is nearly unbearable. Your legs wrap around him tight, hoping he wouldn’t move too soon.

You inhale deeply, trembling with the newfound pain. Sanemi is big - but any cock would be for you. You just hoped Sanemi wasn’t far too gone in the demon’s spell and wouldn’t hurt you too much.

Sanemi’s patience was slowly breaking. He found himself grinding into her for any sort of friction or pleasure. There’s only so much a man like him could take, his mind kept replaying the countless ways he could take you right now and he was truly fighting an internal battle.

Sanemi thrusted out of you fully to thrust back in. You released a surprised wail, eyes shutting tight. Your fingernails would be another scar left upon his skin.

“I can’t take it.” you cry out, walls completely sore by taking his cock in you fully. The pressure was unbearable and by the looks of the man, he appeared utterly insatiable.

“You can.” Sanemi’s voice is so raspy and deep that you were positive he was far gone. He continues to thrust deep inside of you that your back hits the futon with each thrust. He’s strong - far stronger than you’d ever hope to be - and getting him to stop was going to be difficult.

You felt the hot tears pool down your cheeks. You were being stretched out far too much for you to keep your composure. You were clenching around him so heavenly that he never wanted to stop - never wanted to be out of you; without you.

“Nemi, please…”

Sanemi’s hips buckled and he halts his movements.

Keep going - the voice in his mind tells him.

But it’s your sadden pleas that has his sanity coming back - just for a moment. He witnesses your tears falling and his heart aches - was he the one making you cry?

Sanemi goes to pull himself out, but you stop him. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer to you. His chest is against yours while your lips lined up against his ears. You’re panting, attempting to catch your breath and adjust to his size.

Sanemi’s arms wrap around your body, the intimate moment was one he wished he could remain in forever; never wishing to let you go.

“Nemi?”

You clench around him and Sanemi hums a response. You loosen your hold onto him, a signal that you wanted him to continue.

Sanemi grinds inside of you, his hold on you only growing tighter. He’s deep, never wishing to be anywhere else but inside of you. He picks up his pace, noticing how your cries were becoming moans.

This is what sex felt like. The pain was slowly subsiding and the pleasure was taking over. You can hear the way your pussy sounds against his pumping cock - wet and inviting, satiating his hunger for you.

Sanemi releases his hold on you to lean back. His eyes are hooded as he watches the way your breast bounces. He picks up the pace, cock sliding in and out of you - rougher, deeper, faster.

So beautiful, Sanemi thinks. So beautiful and his - all his. The dark thoughts were coming back with each passing second and his sanity was losing to the demonic spell.

You yourself felt whatever sanity you had left was now leaving. You no longer cared if Sanemi was hurting you or not - what you did know was that now you felt good; so good. His cock pumps inside of you at an alarming pace that would even be considered pleasurable if you weren’t receiving it.

Sanemi’s hands grip your breast so tightly that he's sure they would leave marks. His eyes fixated on the bulge of your stomach, mind racing with the thought of you round and pregnant with his child. He allows one hand to leave your breast to cup your stomach, rubbing lightly as he fucks you.

“I can’t wait to fuck a baby in you.”

Sanemi’s words would cause you to gasp if you weren’t caught in the moment. Your mind was fucked out with how good he’s fucking you that a baby didn’t seem bad - how the two of you forgotten about the world full of demons and the mission you were currently on.

“Get you nice and pregnant. I’ll take care of you.” He’s now hitting your g-spot as he speaks, eyes completely blown out with pleasure. Your knees are touching your shoulders and you’re positive you’ve never been this flexible before. “I’ll take care of all of our kids.”

You’re crying beneath him, pleasure overwhelming. Your sobs don’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t care. He’ll fuck you until he was done - fuck you until he was sure you were pregnat with the child he was promising you.

“I want them to look just like you. So perfect.” Sanemi moans at the thought of you full of cum, round with his child.

You’re cumming, writhing beneath him. You’re soaking the futon beneath the two of you, but neither of you care. Sanemi was on a mission - a rampage. Nothing was going to stop him from achieving his perverted dreams.

Sanemi cums deep inside of you, twitching as he does so. He’s panting while sweat pools off of his skin and onto yours.

Sanemi wants more.

He flips you over, face burning into the futon. He enters you like an animal, continuing the brutal pace. He’s fucking into you deeper, your screams echoing off the room walls. If anyone was inside the inn, neither of you cared. He almost wished someone was listening so they could hear how good he was fucking you.

You’re drooling. You could no longer focus on anything but the cock inside of you - and even then you wanted more. Was this what heaven felt like? Paradise? To be stuff so good but the man you adored that you never wanted it to end?

How could you go back to pleasuring yourself when Sanemi knew how to do it so wonderfully?

Sanemi filled you again - three more times before he changed the position. He brought you on top of him and fucked into you, not allowing you any control. The stamina of a Hashira was amazing. He fucked you like a ragdoll, but you had no complaints.

His fucking dragged on majority of the night - against the wall, in his arms, on your back, on your side - every position he deemed fuckable, he had you in.He would hiss such dirty worlds in your ears that you’d convulse into a cumming mess for him.

One things for certain - neither of you wanted this night to end.

Your legs ached, as did the entirety of your body.

You stirred away, the sun from the open window blinding your eyes.

You push yourself up from the futon, the blanket you were wrapped in falling to expose your naked figure.

You were sore and one look at your appearance has your mind fluttering with memories.

“Nemi…?” you call out to nothing. You were alone in the room the two of you shared the night prior. You scanned the area to find no trace of him - not even his belongings.

Your legs tremble as you stand to your feet. You take nearly 10 minutes to get dressed, but you cannot be blamed. Your body is covered with bruises and marks that hiding it with Sanemi’s gifted haori was difficult, but manageable.

You make your way out of the room, belongings in hand. You walk past the innkeeper who doesn’t say a word - a different woman from the first two you met the day prior.

“CAW!”

Hiyori flies above you just as you exit the inn. If you had to guess, it was an hour before noon.

“Y/L Y/N is to report to the Butterfly Mansion for treatment! Y/L Y/N and others to the Butterfly Mansion!”

“Hiyori.” you call the crow, holding out your arm. “Where’s Sanemi?”

“Shinazugawa-sama has left on his own in the morning!”

Left.

Sanemi had left you here?

Alone?

“Y/N!”

It’s Sumire and Roshi, returning back to you appearing slightly disheveled.

“W-What-”

“Don’t ask.” Sumire’s flushing bright red.

“Please.” Rochi murmurs and you notice none of them can look the other in the eye.

Your mind connects the dots.

You and Sanemi were not the only two subjected to the demon’s spell.

“Did you see Sanemi leave?” you ask the two slayers.

“Yes. Shinazugawa-sama took the others and left. We were told to wait for you.” Sumire exclaims. “Didn’t say much but to wait until you were up to head to the Butterfly Mansion.”

You nod your head. You swallow, heart aching with the realization that Sanemi had left you.

Had Sanemi regretted the night with you? Had he woke up disgusted with your actions that he didn’t even wish to look at you?

No.

Sanemi wasn’t like this. He didn’t run from his issues. He had to go to the Butterfly Mansion with the other slayers. You wouldn’t think too much into it.

But it was hard not to think too much into it, you think. The entire journey to the Butterfly Mansion had left you completely distracted by memories of the previous night and the nervousness of having to face the Wind Hashira once more.

The Butterfly Mansion was hectic, nurses scurrying around to help while Kakushi lined up to do the same. You almost felt out of place coming here. You didn’t even have any scars from the attack with the demon and it appears Sumire and Roshi were alright, as well, only a bit awkward.

“Are you two alright?” you turn to the two slayers who nod, avoiding contact with the other. “The mission wasn’t as deadly as we expected. The Lower Moon-”

“Lower Moon?!” Roshi and Sumire gasp in unison with wide eyes. “There was a lower moon there?” Sumire questions.

“We fought off a few demons but they weren’t strong. They might have been only a few years turned.”

You nod your head. “Yes.” you look between the two of them. “Her demon art was…powerful. Are you sure the two of you are alright?”

You see flashes in your mind of you and Sanemi together the entirety of the night.

“Yes.” Roshi’s cheeks are dusty red.

“Yea.” Sumire responds, as well.

You nod your head and offer the two of them a soft smile. “Okay. Good job on the mission.” you tell them. “Please rest.”

Your eyes watch Sumire and Hoshi scurry away and you release an exhausted sigh.

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps to the sound of your name. You bow to Shinobu who does the same.

“Are you alright? I heard your mission was successful by Shinazugawa.”

You nod your head. “Yes. I returned just now.” you wondered what else Sanemi had told her. “It’s hectic here.”

“Indeed it is. Uzui has returned with Tanjiro, Inosuke and Zenitsu. An Upper Moon was defeated.”

Your eyes widen. “An Upper Moon? Are they safe?” you returned seemingly fine after your battle - if you can even call it that, the demon appeared far too weak to be considered a part of the 12 Kizuki. You couldn’t imagine fighting an Upper Moon.

“Recovering. They’re all fallen into coma’s but we’re positive they will recover.”

A sigh of relief comes from your lips. “Uzui-san? Is he here?”

“Was. He left hours before you returned. He has retired as a Hashira.”

You were sure your eyes were going to pop out their socket one of these days. The sudden information was hitting you at each possible angle.

“I know you’ve grown attached to the younger slayers. Maybe you can come visit them once everything settles down.” Shinobu offers a smile. “Uzui is at his estate with his wives as if he didn’t lose an eye or hand. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”

“Huh?!” your hands clench at - yet again - another sudden information. Uzui was a Hashira, so tall and muscular and extremely skilled.

“Uzui is fine, truly. Rambling on about appearing even more flashy with an eyepatch.” Shinobu giggles slightly. “How are you, Y/N? Shinazugawa was here earlier but nothing appeared to be wrong with him or the others. I assume the same goes for you?”

You swallow and nod.

“Good.” Shinobu scans your appearance. You had the white haori that once belonged to Sanemi wrapped tightly around your frame. You showed no skin - which wasn’t exactly alarming, but you also never appeared so awkwardly nervous.

Shinobu’s eyes are beautiful, so large and deep purple. Now, however, they seemed to be looking into your soul, searching for your deepest and darkest secrets.

“I should be going now, Shinobu-san.” you bow.

“Don’t be a stranger, Y/N.” she offers a curt wave. “I love the new glow you have to you.” that tone in her voice - you feel hot with embarrassment. She was teasing you.

“CAW!”

You haven’t been outside for more than five minutes before Hiyori returns.

“Oyakata-sama has sent for you!”

“Ah.” you sigh deeply. “I suppose I can see what Oyakata-sama needs.”

You made your journey towards the Ubuyashiki Estate, Hiyori soaring above you. It doesn’t take long and upon entering you note that Oyakata has already been waiting for your appearance.

You bow in front of him. “Oyakata-sama. I have arrived.”

Kagaya offers a curt smile. “Y/L Y/N. It is nice to be in your presence once more.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Oyakata-sama.”

You lift your head, knees remaining on the ground.

“Congratulations on returning from your mission safely. You have defeated a Lower Moon.” Kagaya praises.

Your heart feels full to be praised.

“Thank you, Oyakata-sama. But please, it was nothing. Uzui-san and the others are the true remarkable ones.” You still cannot fathom coming in the presence of such a remarkably strong demon.

“You also deserve praise, Y/N.” Kagaya says. “You managed to defeat a Lower Moon. There’s many slayers who did not have the same fate.”

You nod to yourself. You suppose he was right.

“You would make an exceptional Wind Hashira if the title was not already occupied.” Kagaya compliments once more. “I am content that you, my child, are a part of the Corps.”

“Thank you, Oyakata-sama.” you say, standing to your feet.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Kagaya said, but before you could speak, he continued. “Sanemi has transformed for the better. I assume that it is your doing.”

You swallow at the sound of Sanemi’s name. You had yet to see him and speak about what has happened during the mission.

“I cannot take responsibility for Shinazugawa-san’s credibility. He was always an amazing Hashira before me!”

Kagaya chuckles to himself lowly. “Indeed he was, my child. But behind every great man, there’s a partner. A woman like yourself.” Kagaya lightly pets the crow that sits beside him. His head remains straight forward, body unmoving. “Give yourself more grace, Y/N. You are free to go as you please. Thank you for speaking with me.”

“Y-Yes.” you inhale a response, bowing before turning away. “Thank you, Oyakata-sama.”

The master's words replay in your head as you make your way to Sanemi’s estate. You deserve praise, he said. You changed Sanemi for the better. Did you, though? Sanemi always appeared amazing to you - at any and everything he did. Sure he had a temper but it was never towards you. Maybe Sanemi had taken the swear the two of you made seriously.

Entering the mansion, you note just how quiet it was inside. Where was Sanemi? You knew he returned earlier in the day.

You decided to not dwell on it and bathe. You hadn’t had the chance to upon waking up, only a light wash up. Witnessing the bruises and bites littering your skin causes you to flush at the memory of you and Sanemi together.

Hours had passed since you bathed and since then you had managed to cook dinner for the two of you - Sanemi’s dish had sat cold. You pondered where he could possibly be - surely Oyakata-sama didn’t send him on another mission.

You began to feel as if Sanemi was purposely avoiding you. As days dragged on, you had yet to see him. You continued your training alone, not witnessing any sight of him. You would eat alone without him, always setting a plate down for him that he would eat whenever he did return while you were gone.

It was only when the second week dragged on did Sanemi return, though barely. You caught a glimpse of him entering the bathroom just as you finished dinner. You waited for him to enter, and when he finally had you were left disappointed. He didn’t spare you a glance, entering his bedroom and not exiting.

Weeksn dragged on and you noticed that you and Sanemi no longer attended missions together. Hiyori would come and deliver your own solo missions and you’d go - not having someone besides you had your heart yearning for company.

While Sanemi obviously ignored you, you would often visit Uzui and his wives. You’d relax at the onsen with them while not on missions, often eating dinner. Uzui was not a fool to notice the look in your eyes - you were attempting to get your mind off of a certain white haired bastard.

You visited Inosuke and Zenitsu, offering them sweets while they trained and waited for Tanjiro to wake. You remained cooking for Shinra, Genya and Muichiro when the three were free, Sanemi’s place at the table untouched.

There was a shift that everyone noticed. Sanemi’s attitude was going back to what it once was - abrasive and rash. The slayers had to tiptoe around him once more, not having you around as their savior.

The Hashira has since taken note that there was something wrong with you and Sanemi. Shinobu had seen more of the Wind hashira at the Butterfly Estate to heal petty wounds that he'd usually got to you for - when she asked why he was there, he had snapped at her and stated that it was “her job” to do so.

Obanai and Sanemi train together often, now more than ever. He would visit the Serpent estate to train just so he didn’t have to be home - Iguro never questioned him.

Muichiro is air headed and often stuck in his own mind when he wasn’t out on missions. But he recognizes a shift in your behavior. Your eyes are sadder than he remembers them and all he can think to do is do the things he liked to do - with you. He’d watch the clouds with you, not speaking unless you did. He would make origami with you, claiming that yours were trash - it caused you to laugh at his insensitive truth - and would end up gifting you one of his origami pieces.

Mitsuri’s would often feed you, claiming that whenever she was down, she desired to eat delicious foods. She didn’t want to ask anything of you and Sanemi’s relationship, but she just hoped that whatever did happen that it would end soon.

You were grateful for everyone's attempts in changing your mood and it would be selfish to say that it didn’t work. However, as the second month kicks, you realize just how foolish you feel. Your head has been far too into Sanemi and why he was ignoring you (and your own separate missions) that you ignored your own overall health.

“Y/N.”

Shinobu tilts her head at you, curiosity in her eyes. Her face turns to a look of concern.

“Pregnant.” you repeat her words.

Could you even be surprised? You were in the second month since the mission in Shinjuku. The last thing on your mind upon returning was a contraceptive and even when you woke up feeling less than yourself, you still couldn’t accept that you were with child.

“You must think I’m so stupid.” you laugh humorlessly at Shinobu, insect-like eyes watching your every move.

“Of course not!” Shinobu denies. “Why would you think such a thing?”

You inhale deeply. You thought as much because it was what you were feeling. Stupid - pregnant by Sanemi and it appeared now that he wanted nothing to do with you. Stupid for getting pregnant when your occupation was killing demons.

“Y/N. Are things with you and Shinazugawa…good?” Shinobu doesn’t want to pry, but now you were with child and appeared disgusted, concerned and frightened all at once.

You swallow, throat tightening. “Yes.” you murmur, an obvious lie. Everyone has noticed the shift in the relationship between the two of you and now Shinobu has an idea as to why.

“I assume Shinazugawa doesn’t know.” Shinobu states. “Y/N…there’s ways we can go about this now. If you aren’t ready I can assure you it will be painless.”

You blink at Shinobu’s words. You haven’t thought about a moment like this happening - not even the moment between you and Sanemi. When you arrived from the mission, you desired to see him and talk about whatever relationship the two of you had. But Sanemi turned cold, ignoring your presence all together and waving you off whenever you attempted to.

“If you do wish to keep the child, I will inform Oyakata-sama of the predicament and get you off from your missions. Since you’re early in the pregnancy, I’m sure you won’t have to-”

“I want to terminate.” you interrupt Shinobu. The Insect Hashira tries not to appear shocked by your words. She would never judge you for whatever decision you chose.

You watch Shinobu nod her head. You couldn’t imagine bringing a child into the world now - not while you were a part of the Corps. It also wouldn’t be fair to Sanemi. You lived in his house, after all. He had made his decision when it came to whatever relationship you had and you were now making yours.

It’s nightfall when you return back to Sanemi’s estate and you’re surprised to see him at the table eating and Sanemi appears to be just as surprised to see you. Upon returning home from his rounds, he assumed you were in bed for the night - but he was proven wrong when you strolled through the shoji doors.

Lilac eyes meet yours and Sanemi notes that there’s something wrong with you. He remains silent, as do you. His heart continues to jolt in your presence, hands yearning to touch your soft skin again.

“Shinazugawa.” you murmur your acknowledgment to him.

Shinazugawa.

You never called him that, Sanemi things. But he doesn’t have the right to feel away about it.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay here.” you begin. Sanemi drops his chopsticks, attention fully on you. “I’m grateful to have been trained by you.”

Where were you going with this?

“I’ll be taking my leave.”

You turn away from him, Sanemi watching your figure saunter down the hall. He hears your shoji doors open but not close. There’s shuffling in your room and now he decides to get up to see what you were doing.

“Where are you going?” Sanemi’s heart is pounding now at the sight of you holding a bag with your belongings. It’s the first time he spoke to you directly.

“I’ve…decided to leave.”

Sanemi glances away. “Where are you going?”

You shift in your stance. “I’ve spoken to Oyakata-sama. I have a few missions lined up before I leave the Corps.”

Sanemi’s head snaps to you. He’s checking your face for any sign of deceit. He doesn’t find any - instead your eyes are lined with moisture. Your throat is bobbing as if attempting to not cry at the words you’re speaking.

“I’m sorry that I’ve become a burden.”

Reach out to her - Sanemi things.

Hold her.

Tell her she was never a burden.

Sanemi remains silent.

You stroll past him, your familiar scent passing him.

“You don’t have to leave.” Sanemi calls just as you’re a foot out the door.

You don’t want to leave.

Sanemi doesn’t want you to leave.

Apologize to her.

Tell her how you feel.

Tell her you love her.

Sanemi’s mind races with his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize you’re already leaving.

“Y/N-” Sanemi follows behind you, pace picking up to reach you. “Where are you going now? After you leave the Corps?”

You feel Sanemi’s hand around your wrist to stop you from walking.

“Back home.” you respond, unable to look at him. You made your decision to leave and going against that wouldn’t be the correct decision for you.

Sanemi gulps. He releases his hand from your wrist.

“I hope you don’t feel as if it was a waste of time training me. I wasn’t a part of the Corps for long.”

You were never a waste of his time, Sanemi wants to say, but his mind is racing and his heart is longing for you.

Why were you going back home to your father? The same man that sold you to someone - that abused you for years on end?

“Thank you, Sanemi. For everything. I must be going.”

Tell her to stay.

Tell her she doesn’t have to leave here - leave you.

Tell her you love her- that you pushed her away because you were disgusted with yourself.

Tell her how horrible you felt that you took advantage of her innocence.

Sanemi doesn’t say anything and instead watches until your figure disappears. For the first time in years, he feels like he could shed tears at the loss of someone he loved.

Final Part

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