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closingwaters · 6 months ago

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TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @mortemoppetere @closingwaters

SUMMARY: Teagan convinces Emilio to go to the ren faire with her, and the two end up having a great time!

WARNINGS: None!

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining overhead, fae from all over town had gathered, and after much convincing on her part, Teagan had gotten Emilio to not only attend, but dress up too! It also helped that there was an abundance of alcohol to consume at the event, which she offered to pay for as long as he played along. As grumpy as the slayer was, he sure knew how to have fun when it counted. Teagan even considered surprising him with a battleaxe. One crafted by the most magnificent hands, with the most ferocious material. She smiled at the thought, yanking Emilio to her to follow through a small crowd.

“You look like an absolute beaut in that crown, mun. Could almost kiss ya!” She bounced her brows, “Almost.” With a wink, Teagan led the two to a booth filled with usable weapons and targets, figuring it would be best to start Emilio off with something he could enjoy before moving on to things he wouldn’t normally consider. “Think you can beat me in a battle of precision?” She slapped down a few precious looking rocks and beetles, along with a few actual dollars. The leshy took the payment happily, making the nymph’s smile grow.

“Looks like we both get five tries. Try not to be a sore loser when I win.” Teagan giggled, excitement growing. It’d been too long since she’d been to an affair as large the faire, and she was full of pride that fae had put it together. All fae were free to be in their true forms while surrounding themself with kin and enjoying the spoils of so many trades. If it had been humans, she would’ve still been unglamoured, but it would’ve most definitely been half the fun.

“You ready?”

This wasn’t something Emilio had ever really seen himself doing. Large gatherings filled with big crowds weren’t really places where he tended to feel comfortable, and dressing up in strange clothes that sat a little too heavy on his skin made him feel a little uneasy. He didn’t feel as if he’d be ready to jump into action if he needed to, though he thought the crown on his head would probably make a decent projectile. He still wasn’t even sure how Teagan had convinced him, really; there had been the promise of alcohol, he knew, which he was looking forward to. Maybe part of him still knew that he owed her for what she’d done for him with his uncle. That wasn’t the kind of debt you could ever really repay, after all.

“Ay, don’t get handsy,” he replied with a roll of his eyes that was closer to fond than irritated. Curiosity flickered across his features at the idea of a precision battle, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way that was almost reminiscent of Perro’s reaction to the word treat. “They have that here?” Maybe this place wasn’t as bad as he’d originally feared it would be.

Allowing her to pull him off to a table, Emilio inspected the setup. Knives, hatchets, and other throwable blades lined the walls of the booth, with targets set up for tossing. “I’m good at this,” he warned her, eyes lit up with excitement. “You might not win.” She was probably good at this, too. This whole event seemed to be made more for people like her than him, really; all around him were unglamoured fae, more than he’d ever really seen before. He took a moment to be glad that Rhett was no longer in town, took another moment to feel guilty for that thought. Then, looking back to Teagan, he nodded. “Ready,” he confirmed. “Do we go at the same time? Or one first?”

—

The way Emilio spoke leaned toward familiarity and friendliness in a way that made Teagan’s chest warm. Their friendship had blossomed despite their differences, once they realized just how similar their anger simmered. Almost in unison at times. “You’re getting soft, mun.” She replied, watching affectionately how he rolled his eyes. Yes, he was definitely getting soft. “Teddy’s been good for you. Love’s got a way of sanding down those edges, makin’ those sharp margins just…” Teagan scrunched her nose and let her gaze fall onto the flower crown Emilio wasn’t even attempting to remove. “Right.” She smiled softly and it quickly turned into a grin as her slayer friend grew excited at the array of weapons.

“I’ll let you go first. You know what that saying is, right?” The nix bounced her brows, a mischievous edge forming on her smile. “You gotta size up your opponent and assess before you make your move.” Teasingly, Teagan bumped her hip to Emilio, twirling a knife in her hand as an idea brewed in her brain. None of the rules on the board said you couldn’t sabotage a player, and even if it did, Teagan was certain the Sylph behind the counter wouldn’t mind a fellow nymph playing a trick. “Now, go on.” She rolled her lips over her teeth, waiting for her opportunity to strike at least one of Emilio’s attempts down.

“Show me whatcha got, enaid.”

Years ago — months ago, even — the statement would have sounded a lot more like an accusation. In the mind of Elena Cortez, soft was the worst thing a person could be. She’d accused Emilio of it plenty of times, had flung it in his direction like a weapon more times than he could count. It was one of the many things she’d cited that made him useless, and it cut like a knife each time it found its mark. She’d hate him if she could see him now; he’d lost all doubt about that a while ago. It still hurt far more than he was willing to admit, still stung in a way that was hard to explain. But coming from Teagan, it didn’t sound quite like a barb. The mention of Teddy, too, sent a warmth through his chest, made him feel a little less on edge. “Don’t let them know that,” he warned, fondness still present in his expression. “They’ll get a big head. Bad for everyone.”

Scanning the table, Emilio ran a finger absently along some of the weapons there. Knives were the most familiar; he had practice throwing them. Axes were fun, too. He picked up one of each, weighing them in his hands. “Ah, assess all you want. It won’t help you much,” he warned, wriggling his brows as he placed himself in front of the target. Tucking the hatchet into his belt, he took aim with the knife first, rearing back and letting it fly towards the wooden bullseye in front of him.

—

“I quite like their head, actually. Even if that ego of theirs could fill up a room if it could manifest physically.” She grabbed for her goblet and took a drink of her mead, delighted by the roasted honey notes that permeated to her nose and excited her taste buds. Licking her lips, Teagan put her drink back down onto the table and watched Emilio take in the targets.

It was always fascinating to watch concentration lock on one’s features. How a body tensed in preparation, moving on instinct and muscle memory. Although Teagan knew how a man like Emilio was manufactured, like a machine set to murder without a chance to have a say, she could see that he made the best out of it. He was using his skills in a game, with a target not made of flesh, but of hay and paper. She could see him almost relax, ever so slightly. He was even participating in playful banter, which only served to motivate Teagan to execute her plan.

“Sure, ‘ol grump. Sure.” She winked, even if he couldn’t see it as he cocked his weapon. “Let’s see if the odds are in your favor!” As Emilio released the blade, Teagan released her own, timing it just so. The blades collided, and the Sylph giggled along with the nix while she gloated and bumped her hip to Emilio’s. “How’s my assessing then, huh?”

“Eh, so do I,” Emilio admitted with a shrug. It was nice, actually, knowing that Teddy had a friend in Teagan. She could probably understand them in ways Emilio never could, probably got things that seemed far too foreign for him to grasp. Teddy deserved someone like that, he knew, deserved a level of understanding that Emilio himself would never be able to give them. (On his worst days, he thought a lot about all the things Teddy deserved and just how incapable he was of providing them. But today wasn’t one of his worst days; today felt a little more like one of his best.)

It felt a little better when he let that knife fly. There had always been something a little freeing about letting a weapon make a controlled exit from his hand. Maybe it was a shitty thing to admit, considering where most of those weapons tended to end up, but he’d always found a little bit of strange comfort in it. It was a way of letting go, a method of taking control away from yourself in the most controlled way possible. The illusion of freedom, in many ways, was more comfortable than the real thing. You could let the knife fly and, even without feeling the weight of it in your hand, know exactly where it would end up.

Unless someone knocked it out of the air.

Emilio narrowed his eyes with a small scowl, turning to raise a brow at Teagan. “Didn’t know we were allowed to cheat,” he said, more amused than accusatory. “My turn to ‘assess’ next, is it?” If anything, this new challenge made the game more fun. It was like Teddy talking his ear off as they threw axes, trying to distract him by turning his mind to… other things. Emilio was pretty good at this game, too. “Go ahead, then. Take your shot.”

—

“Oh, I bet you do, lad.” She replied, happy to see Emilio blissfully attached to someone she knew was inherently good. The two of them were good for each other, if Emilio’s undying smile was any indication. He was still a grump, and always would be, but Teagan knew that his days of bitter loneliness were over. Even his self-sabotaging nature couldn’t get in the way. Not if she or Teddy had anything to say about it.

Love had a way of doing that, at any level, and the nix felt fortunate enough to understand what that felt like between the hunted and the hunter. She was at peace with that, in a way. Sometimes the acrid taste of her family’s death tightened Teagan’s throat and clawed its way out in terrors at night, sending her out into the darkness as she slept, but she knew she could count on Emilio to be a friend now. She knew it was the same for him. She knew they shared a similar horror. And she knew she could even rely on him to be entertained by her antics.

Teagan snickered to herself, and then the Sylph joined along again when Emilio made a face. The two of them had come a long way since their introduction by the lake. No longer did Teagan want to drown the slayer in water, but in fondness and joy. It’s what he deserved after what he’d lost. A man that bore the weight of death needed to find a way to release the burden on his shoulders and feel his strength return. Now that the two of them saw eye to eye, Teagan wanted to provide that aid, hoping that one day, Emilio would put it all down and let himself stand tall, without the weight crushing him tenfold.

Smiling more, even. As he was then.

“All right, enaid.” She teased, standing closer and getting into Emilio’s face to taunt him playfully. “You’ll have to be…” Without looking, Teagan lifted her knife while Emilio was distracted and only pulled away from the goading to immediately throw the knife. “Fast!” She finished, a bit miffed to see she had not hit the bullseye. In fact, she had missed it by a whole two inches.

“Well…you didn’t block it.”

He rolled his eyes again at Teagan’s comment, though it was just as fond as it had been before. It was strange, this dynamic they’d built. It wasn’t one he’d ever seen coming. But most of the relationships in Emilio’s life now were like that, weren’t they? Maybe his friendship with Wynne was a predictable thing, but the rest? He’d hated Teddy to begin with, started off thinking Zane belonged on the other side of one of his stakes. He was pretty sure Teagan had wanted him dead at the start, thought she probably would have seen to it if Arden hadn’t been there to stop her. Most of his friends now weren’t human, something that would have his mother rolling in her grave. But Emilio felt less and less like it was a bad thing to love the people he loved. He wasn’t sure what it said about him. He wasn’t sure if the guilt that sometimes clawed at his chest because of it was warranted or not.

Maybe you didn’t have to feel guilty for being a little less miserable than you used to be, even if that was a hard thing to remember. Maybe you were allowed to hold someone’s hand and smile and wear a crown of flowers on your head even if you knew you’d probably lay awake later with something eating at your insides and the memories of all the people who wouldn’t do any of those things again because you had failed to save them closer to the surface than they had been in a long time. Maybe, in cases like this, all you could do was let yourself enjoy one moment at a time.

So he’d let himself have fun. He’d joke with Teagan, he’d throw knives at paper instead of flesh. And later, if he thought about it too much, it would hurt. He’d get stuck on the thought of his daughter, who hadn’t been given nearly enough moments of pure, innocent fun, or of his wife, who might have liked something like this if her relationship to him hadn’t gotten her killed. The storm clouds would return, because they always did. But right now, for this moment, it was sunny. Maybe it was okay to enjoy that.

Teagan was fast, letting her knife loose before Emilio could prep one to knock it from the sky. But there were tradeoffs with things like this — if you moved too quickly, you sacrificed accuracy. Emilio snorted as her knife missed the target, the grin on his face a wide and shit-eating kind. “Don’t need to block it if you can’t hit it without me messing you up,” he teased. With her hands temporarily empty of knives, he pulled the ax from his waistband and reared back, tossing it at the target and grinning at the resulting thunk when it found home. “Maybe you need to be faster, too.”

—

There was always a twinge of sadness that came along with Emilio’s smile. His eyes held the tragic tales of his family, an abundance of pain that became endless nightmares when he shut his eyes. Could he dream again? Could Teagan? Were they allowed to try after all that time? More often than not, she was afraid the answer was no. And now she found herself afraid that Emilio would fall prey to the same ending after being better than the upbringing he was given.

His eyes pleaded for that reprieve, but his shoulders tensed with guilt, as if ready to bear it forever. Maybe he would. Maybe they both had to prepare for a grief so infinite because who they were died along those they loved. Or perhaps, Teagan hoped, because they had loved again, because love was the root of all grief, they had the hearts to always find themselves again. To grin with a playfulness long thought lost, at a game that was trivial at its worst, and bridging at its best.

So, Teagan stepped onto it, without hesitation. She crinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out to tease Emilio as she lightly shoved his flower crown down to obscure his vision. It gave her the chance to throw her next knife with much more accuracy, even if it landed at the edge of the red bullseye. “All right,” Teagan snorted out a chuckle, “This doesn’t mean you win. I mean, look! The hatchet is much bigger than the knife.” The Sylph shook their head in disagreement, and Teagan rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on!” She huffed, though there wasn’t any real grief in it. No, she was lost to the glee she felt being with her friend.

The flower crown came down over his eyes to obscure his vision, and there was a time when it would have been enough to make Emilio panic. There was a time when the world would have closed in on him the moment he couldn’t see everything around him with perfect clarity, a time when he would have made a swing without thinking just to make sure no one came too close before he could see clearly again. There was less distance between himself and that time than he’d have liked to admitted to. He didn’t think it would ever be far from him. It had a way of returning, after all, a way of rising back up from the depths of his chest and wrapping cold fingers around his throat each time he’d thought he’d escaped it.

But it was absent now. In this moment, on this day, he wasn’t that thin collection of paranoia and grief. It was still in him, of course — at this point, he was fairly certain it always would be — but there were other things there with it on days like today. There was the warm thought of Teddy waiting for him at home, the amused huff that came with Teagan’s attempts at sabotage. Today, at least, he was fine. He just needed to try to hold onto that.

Lifting the flowers from his face, he grinned at the sight of Teagan’s knife just at the edge of the bullseye. “Ah, bullshit!” He laughed, grin only widening when even the sylph in charge of the booth agreed with his victory. “Don’t be a sore loser.” Had he lost, of course, he would have been just as ornery about it, but that was neither here nor there. “Three more goes, though. I’ll use a knife this time, so it won’t matter how big it is.” He swiped one off the table, brow furrowing for a moment as he pretended to have his attention captured by something just in the distance. “The fuck is going on over there?” He asked, letting a hint of feigned concern seep into his voice. When Teagan turned to look at nothing, he quickly loosed the knife at the target.

—

“All right, all right,” Teagan put her hands up in a small truce, reaching into her pocket shortly after when she saw a woman with a platter full of drinks. “You tricked me, but unlike some people, when I point out that there’s something to look at, there’s actually something to look at.” She offered a few shiny rocks and old coins that she had polished, along with a gemstone she was lucky to find in the lake. From what Teagan could gather, it was a beautiful piece of agate, and she knew a fellow nymph would appreciate an exchange with it.

“Mead platter coming our way. Give ‘em this—” Taking Emilio’s hand, she placed the items in it, and pointed out the gorgeous Anthousa. “Ask for two drinks. I’m runnin’ a bit low.” While he was busy with that, Teagan eyed the hatchet on the table and picked it up. She tested the weight of it and tutted to herself, deciding to use up her next two tries as quickly as she could before the drinks came up. The hatchet landed home, as did the knife, but Teagan knew she was coming up short when it came to the possibility of winning. Whether she liked it or not, even if she hit the next bullseye, Emilio was the winner.

And he was going to be so smug about it.

“Okay, take your next three turns. I already admit defeat and will be buying the next few rounds of mead.” She paused, “But only if you don’t act like a wanker and rub this win in.”

Following her gaze to the woman with the mead platter, Emilio couldn’t help but grin. He’d give it to Teagan — she knew how to distract him properly. This time, at least, he was willing enough to let it happen. He’d already proven his point with the ax and the knife in the target, pleased enough with himself to let Teagan have a few uninterrupted tosses while he fetched the drinks. Especially if Teagan was the one buying. Emilio couldn’t pretend to understand the currency at this event, but with Teagan footing the bill? He didn’t really have to.

He approached the anthousa, who chattered idly at him as he handed her the stones and coins Teagan had handed him. Emilio wasn’t much of a talker, something the nymph seemed to recognize quickly enough. After he’d successfully gotten the drinks, she trotted off to find someone else to chat with, and there was some relief in that. The hunter knew he didn’t quite fit in here. More than that, he knew that there were plenty of people here who might like to take his head off if they knew a little more about him. It was better, he thought, to stick with the only person at the faire that he was fairly confident didn’t want to kill him. He returned to her, pushing one drink in her direction and taking a swig of the other.

Grinning as Teagan admitted defeat, he picked up one of the knives from the table and tossed it, hitting the bullseye with a flourish. Something told him they both knew he was still going to act like a wanker.

#wickedswriting #writings #waving words #c: emilio #emilio and teagan #a knife day at the faire

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darksaiyangoku · 1 year ago

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My wishlist for a Fate Route remake

I love what ufotable have done with the Fate/Stay Night Saga. They have given us incredbile adaptations of the Unlimited Blade Works and Heaven's Feel Routes, as well as blessing with beautiful tragedy that is Fate/Zero. However, if there's one criticism I have for it, it's that it's incomplete. 17 years later and we're still missing the one that started it all; the Fate Route.

Despite being the face of the franchise, Saber/Artoria hasn't managed to have her moment to shine properly since Fate/Zero and even then, it's very bittersweet. The Fate Route also gave us the lovely Shirou x Artoria romance, which many consider as the definitive ship of the saga. I do think we are way overdue for a Fate Route remake and I think it's best if it happens sooner rather than later. Not only will it give Artoria her much needed spotlight again, but it's also a good jumping on point for newcomers to get into the series. However, what I want isn't a simple retelling of the VN or the 2006 anime with better animation, I want a full remake that actually changes and fixes the issues of both. These include:

Expanding Saber's character more- with the remake, Saber's character development should be a major focus here and that includes her past as King Artoria. One way that can help flesh her out is to add in flashbacks that adapt Garden of Avalon. Not only that, but it would also give some much needed expansion on the knights too.

Expanding on Shirou and Saber's romance- we all know why Shirou loves Artoria so much, but we need to see why she loves him so much. Just like how UBW showed Rin falling for him and HF showed Sakura falling for him, Fate needs to do the same. More scenes should be shown where Artoria starts to question if her relationahip to Shirou is simply Master/Servant or if she truly likes him. A few more date scenes should be added too.

Changing Shirou's characterisation- UBW and HF really did a lot with Shirou's character and they're his best depiction, imo. The Fate Route, however, doesn't really do that. There are times when he comes across as kind of an idiot and he doesn't have as much of proactive role as he did in the later routes. Give those moments to Fate-Shirou, show him getting better at fighting and show his arc about him becoming that great hero he aspired to be.

More Archer moments- I know Archer essentially had his time to shine in UBW, but I think he was severely underused in Fate. Even HF, where he did still die early, had him more of a presence. Maybe we can even see a rematch between him and Saber right before the battle with Berserker.

Caster fight- for all its flaws, Deen's Fate/Stay Night did give a very good fight scene with Caster. This should be implemented in the remake as well and it gives both Caster and Kuzuki a proper send off.

Shirou vs Gilgamesh- since Shirou isn't fully realised yet, he can't have the exact same battle with Gil as he did in UBW. But they should still fight at least once, maybe have Gil overwhelm him before Artoria takes over.

Shirou vs Kieri- have this one be a similar fight to the one from Fate/Zero between Kirei and Kiritsugu. Have him utilise his martial arts skills more and Shirou makes use of his improved projection magic.

A new ending- the Fate true ending is something that fans do want and I think it would be a beautiful way to wrap up the saga. But honestly? I want a happily ever after ending instead and to have Artoria become a human and marry Shirou. I know it's controversial but after everything Artoria had been through, she deserves a happy ending and a chance to finally be selfish for once.

And that's my wishlist for the Fate Route remake.

#fate stay night #fate route #ufotable #darksaiyangoku.txt

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oficeandwind · 1 month ago

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❝ ... what do you think? ❞ he's presenting them with the completed sword — all vibrant blues and glittering gold. though the wanderer's voice is steady, he looks to chongyun with an expectant stare. he wants a second opinion. he wants to make sure he didn't immerse himself so deeply in the creative process that he lost sight of his original intention. a blade. a good one. ( better than that piece of garbage kazuha has been TORMENTING him with. ) ❝ you can give it a swing to see how it feels, if you'd like. ❞

they'd been watching ren work the forge for the past while. day? couple of days? even during the moments when chongyun had to leave for their own duties, they'd always come back just to sit nearby and watch the process. it's one thing to HEAR about how ren is skilled with a forge, it's an entirely different matter to see ren actually at work.

he seems completely focused. chongyun knows that feeling all too well: the feeling of shutting the world out and entering a trance, almost. chongyun's own fingers itch to do that same work, to stand in front of that furnace and crafting their own weapon. while chongyun is not AS skilled with a forge, they've worked with it enough in the past that chongyun IS familiar with how to use it.

sometimes, chongyun really wants to throw caution to the wind. they'd love nothing more than to risk their health and energy to create something JUST for themself, instead of having one customized for them.

when ren finishes the sword and presents it to chongyun, he's leaning forward, wanting to examine every detail and care ren showed during this process. there's something intimate about the craftmanship; it's easy to tell just HOW much love and care ren put into the sword.

when offered to swing it, chongyun almost jumps back. such a weapon should not be used by other people first. it's a rule chongyun's made for himself. he's spiritual, and maybe even a little superstitious ― it would be ill to bring back luck to kazuha's sword before kazuha even has a chance to use it.

though, that would probably be more for using said weapon in battle. a single test swing should not bring any harm to the blade. that, and chongyun would have no problems with blessing the weapon to keep it free of bad luck. though, he won't bring that up with ren right now. this should be kept solely on ren's craftmanship, and now about chongyun's own superstitions.

"if you're sure," chongyun murmurs. it's a single test swing, nothing more. they're touching the hilt first, admiring the vivid colors that shine through. the dark blue of the handle, with the gold edges, really lend well to the bright blue of the blade. carefully, chongyun lifts it from ren's hands to hold it out in front of them, testing the weight.

to chongyun, swords are too light for them to properly use. chongyun is too used to claymores, and has long since adjusted their body to account for the heavier weapons. swords have never given chongyun that same satisfying impact in a battle. though, if chongyun HAD to use a sword, they'd very much want one that'd been carefully crafted by a friend. this blade is sturdy enough that chongyun could almost see themself using it in a fight.

then, stepping further away from ren to avoid damage, chongyun swings once. the sword whips almost too quickly for chongyun, though it still comes with a control that chongyun can admire. they can see kazuha getting used to this blade well enough. even if only because ren made it.

"it's well made," chongyun praises, turning to hand it back to ren. blade down, safety always matters. "i don't think kazuha will have any problems with it; it's light, quick, and incredibly responsive."

chongyun definitely prefers the heftier weight and size of his own weapon.

with a step back, they nod toward the forge again. "if you'd like to wrap it and present it as a gift for kazuha, i know we keep the supplies over there too. you're welcome to help yourself to anything you'd need and want. but i think you did an excellent job."

@windsfavored

#; answered asks #windsfavored #muse ; chongyun #; ic.#; kazuha's birthday #lksdl;f this got so long i'm sorry for yapping #but you got me in my own blacksmithing feels for these two

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moscnios · 2 years ago

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headcanons % losing an arm to protect them. p2

☻ / characters . . . king, ace & smoker.

☻ / content warnings . . . brief mentions of amputation, blood, violence. not proofread.

☻ / commentary . . . self indulgent part two most liked writing on this blog lol. because i really needed it. read part one here.

king has made it very clear that he doesn’t need or want your help.

it’s not that he’s a bad guy, it’s just that for the most part he can protect himself and he would rather you stay in a safe place and leave it to him to fight his battles

but the enemy’s giving him a hard time and it’s so hard to watch him being hit time and time again

he would understand right ??

he hardly has a chance to react before he sees you jump in front of him, guarding him as his attacker made their strongest slash cutting both you and your now detached arm down in one fell swoop

king doesn’t let you fall to the ground. he makes sure to catch you, when he sees the agonizing pain in your face, he realizes what has happened

it is then when he sees you do not only have an open wound on your chest, but your entire arm is detached

he’s livid in a scary silent way. he doesn’t say a word when he props you up next a wall, to make sure you are out of harms way

but you can definitely feel the anger seething from him. he won’t fall down again. he will win. it’s no longer just about him. it’s about defending you and your honor and pride.

when the enemy is beaten black and blue, he’s still angry. he’s angry you didn’t trust him enough to fight his own battles. he’s angry you jumped in front of him.

he’s angry he let you lose your arm.

if only he was stronger, it’s what he kept telling himself.

you could have died and he would have blamed himself.

it is only when you’re asleep, recovering from your injuries that he will sit by your side and picture your arm still there

he could still feel the warm touch of your hand that was no longer there. that warm feeling on his own hand or his cheek.

he thanks you for saving his life as he lets his own hand brush against your sleeping cheek

maybe one day he’ll say it while you’re awake

ace was reckless. you knew that. everyone knew that.

but no matter just how reckless ace usually was, he always managed to surprise you by outdoing himself every time somehow

this time managing to get the two of you chased by a group of marines. as you kept running, the group kept getting larger and larger. they weren’t letting up

it was becoming a bit too much to handle.

ace suggested just fighting, but it was too dangerous and risky in such a place. neither of you knew this island that well enough, you weren’t sure what was to come

you’d find out all too soon when a vice admiral surprised you two from behind with a cutlass. you don’t even think as you push ace out of the way, taking the blade to your shoulder

maybe it’s the adrenaline still running through your body from running away from the marines. but you knew something was wrong, something felt wrong

it’s not until you notice the absolute distraught look on ace’s face and him pointing to your arm that you realize, your arm…is now on the ground. you’re bleeding terribly.

it’s when you realize what has happened that ace is now furious. there’s nothing you can say, that man is going to fight. no one can get away with doing this to you

after a long fight, ace rushes to get you back to the ship to get medical attention. he’s pacing back and forth in front of the sick bay. he’s bothering the hell out of marco, bombarding him with questions about your well-being. even though his word doesn’t matter, he wants to see so with his own eyes

when you’re well enough to sit up and talk, oh he’s ready to receive a mouthful. but before you lecture him, he’s going to give you the tightest hug he’s ever given you. he’s sobbing in your shoulder

you’re okay

you wanted to prove yourself. you had to prove to your man that you belonged here, that you could take care of yourself and he didn’t need to hand out any special attention to you even if the two of you were dating

you loved smoker more than anything, and you found it sweet how he wished to protect you

but you were a marine before the two of you even met. you made it this far just fine

it even led to an argument between the two of you that ended in the two of you giving the silent treatment to each other

however you didn’t have the time to be petty anymore when the ship engages in battle with a group of fierce pirates

smoker is in trouble. you need to help. you don’t even think twice putting yourself in between the enemy and the man you love

you just barely make it, your arm being caught in the crossfire. the pain is awful. you try your best to toughen it out so that you can stay by his side to make this a more even fight despite smoker telling you to stand down

and you don’t listen. you’re just as stubborn as he is. it’s something he loves about you

he only agrees to fight side by side you if you promise him that you’ll stop anytime it gets too much

when the fighting is all over and the pirates are defeated, you finally get checked out. they can’t save your arm. you expected as much as did he

they even offer you a prosthetic to which you say you’ll think about it

when you see smoker, you’re expecting him to be in full marine mode and be upset for not following his orders and risking your life for him

but he isn’t any of that. actually he admits just how proud of you he is and apologizes for earlier. he even gets all sappy and calls you his hero and stuff

he still feels guilty about your arm and admit that he should have seen it coming. but he’s just happy that he can still hold you

#i have the worst headache #fighting for my life in this bed #one piece #one piece king #king the wildfire #king the wildfire x reader #king x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #one piece smoker #smoker #smoker x reader #one piece x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #night rather than day ── 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰. 𓂃 ★☆

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lily-drake · 2 years ago

Text

The Demon’s Queen

Chapter Five

First <> Previous

Damian walked back onto the base covered in blood, not that that was anything new. In his hands he held four jewels, three of them new to his collection. The fight was far more difficult than he had been expecting, especially since he had not been used to the new strength and agility the bug had given him. He wondered how many years of his life that one transformation had cost him. The fight had been long and brutal, not helped by the fact that the cat user continuously tried to attack him during the battle. He had to incapacitate him before he continued, stabbing the akumatized victim in their stomach before he could take the infected object. He didn’t break it though, instead placing the bracelet onto his own arm, creating his own connection with Hawkmoth.

It took only a few moments for him to track the magical pull as his mother and grandfather had made him train with powerful magic users in the past. While this was in fact a more ancient and sensitive kind of magic, there were a few tricks that never failed when it was connection based.

Hawkmoth tried to purify the butterfly himself, but the damage was already done. Damian was quick to destroy and capture the butterfly, using both the absorbed dark magic and his own life to fix the city. Once that was done, he made his way towards one of the many mansions that resided in the district entering through an open window that led to an empty bedroom that must have housed the man’s child.

With quick and silent footsteps he stalked the halls, waiting for the man to show himself. There was no use in looking for him in every nook and cranny. He had learned this from experience, it was always better to wait. The sound of something rising filled the otherwise silent mansion, moments later the doors to a large study were banged open by the man of the hour.

Quick as the darkness of a simple blink, Damian was right behind him with his now unsheathed dagger against the man’s neck. He had taken off the Miraculous causing him to be in nothing more than his league garbs. No magic would be found here except his own if someone came looking. He wouldn’t leave behind a trace of himself or anything that could lead a person back to where he had taken Marinette. She was his possession now and no one else's. \

“I’m afraid you have something that does not belong to you.”

He started calmly.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

The man said haltingly, trying to lean away from the sharp blade.

“I think you do. It’s a small broach. It can take the shape of whatever fits the user best to blend in. You may also know it as a Miraculous.”

The man froze, a slight tremor in hands giving away his nerves.

“I don’t know what you mean. I don’t know what you are thinking or trying to prove, but you have the wrong person.”

He growled out, eyes glancing to the side. It was only a slight change in the air, but it was enough. Damian quickly jumped out of the way as a lady in a peacock themed suit charged.

“So you have two of them. I’m afraid I’ll be needing those.”

Damian declared, sheathing the dagger to rade for his katana.

“Not today.”

The woman called out definitely before she attempted to rush him. Which of course did not work as he dodged away from her easily. Her miraculous may have given her an increase in speed, but he had trained with the best of the best, and she was nothing compared to Lady Shiva. Damian kept the middle aged man in his line of sight, watching as he transformed and unsheathed a jian from his cane.

The battle wasn’t very long, and truly he should have been able to beat the both of them with ease, Miraculous or not, but he had slipped and the man was able to shallowly cut his arm. It stung, but Damian barely even noticed it as he continued his strikes. Slash. Clang. Thud. Then there was a scream. Damian watched as his sword pierced the woman’s arm. The sound caused the man to pause his attack and that was all the opening that Damian needed. In one smooth motion he pulled the blade out of the muscle and thrust it at the man, letting it sink only a few inches into the soft flesh of his abdomen. It wouldn’t hit anything fatal, the only way he’d die would be if he bled out, but that could be stopped if he got the proper medical attention on time.

“I will not ask again. Hand me your Miraculi. Now.”

Damian demanded, voice an imitation of the voice his grandfather would use to scare people to submit to his will.

He watched as the man slowly reached for his tie, red leaking through his white clothes like paint leaking through a canvas. Slowly, despite the cries of the woman, the man removed the tie to show a purple broach. Damian didn’t wait for the man to take it off with his slow shaking hands, taking it for himself. He inspected the small thing and noticed a small opening. He opened the small jewel to see a small picture of a woman with a soft smile with light green eyes and blonde hair. He tossed the photo to the man before closing the broach and pocketing it, turning so that he could do the same to the peacock.

“Better call an ambulance, I’d hate for either of you to bleed out.”

With those parting words he disappeared into the night like the shadow he was, ready to take the ring of the cat now that both of his main threats were no longer an issue.

__________

Slowly Marinette made her way down the hall, her body aching from the training she had just endured from Maha. She knew that she would have new bruises everywhere due to the amount of hits that she was able to land. She never really had to worry about that when she wore her miraculous due to its protection and the Miraculous Ladybug’s healing magic. She could feel eyes on her, always watching, waiting for her to slip. It made her skin crawl.

Her next area was supposed to be near the dungeons, though she had thought of just heading back to her room. But if her next trainer was anything like Maha…Marinette shivered at the thought. As she walked a sudden coldness took over her as her hairs raised on the back of her neck. She glanced to her side and almost paused in shock when the boy walked next to her. He was facing forward, stride never faltering for even a moment as he continued down his path filled with a determined confidence. Upon further observation, she noticed the red that trailed behind him, he was not wearing his cape, but the blood red of it was more preferable than the sight of actual blood dripping from his dark clothing.

Marinette opened her mouth to say something, get him to recognize her, but stopped herself. If that blood wasn’t his, if he had just come from killing someone, she didn’t want to know. Didn’t want his cold, empty gaze back on her. So she continued, matching his stride down the halls till they reached what must have been some sort of medical wing.

“Tomoe, look at this for me.”

The boy demanded in his princely tone. The woman appeared from out of nowhere–a theme she was starting to pick up on–and walked towards them.

“Was that supposed to be a joke, young master?”

The woman asked, her voice a gentle whisper that would be lost to the wind. The boy didn’t respond, simply extending his arm for her. Marinette watched from the sidelines as the woman approached the boy, her silver eyes glazed over shocking Marientte.

“Is this my new pupal with you?”

“Yes.”

The woman let out a soft hum, fingers expertly feeling out the wound after she removed the clothes covering it.

“You must have been in quite the predicament to have received such a wound.”

“Tt.”

“I see.”

It was silent after that. Marinette watched in amazement as the woman worked. She was almost the exact opposite of Maha. She was all soft edges, her face round and pale like her own as she was from asian descent. Her hair was a soft black, cut short in a simple bob cut. Her robes were tighter than the other ninjas, clinging to her skin yet still allowed for flexibility. And tied to her right arm was a ribbon.

Once she finished dressing his wound, he turned and left. Marientte glared at his receding back, but he never stopped or faltered as he walked away.

“Join me.”

Marientte jumped at the voice, having forgotten that she was not alone in this strange area filled to the brim with plants and supplies.

“You must be better with your situational awareness. Without it, you will die.”

She says, her voice gentle but void of emotion. Another theme she was noticing about these people.

“Will you kill me?”

Marinette asked with a false sense of confidence.

“No, that is not my job.”

She said, placing the materials back onto the shelves.

“Then what is your job?”

Marinette asked wearily as she slowly approached the woman.

“I will teach you how to survive. You will learn medicine as well as to make poisons and other toxins.”

She paused and turned to stare directly at Marinette.

“I am an assassin, a shadow, and you will be too. The others will not go easy on you, and neither will I. In the League of Assassins you either survive or you don’t. The band on your arm will only protect you so much, so be ready. This is the last nice thing I will ever say to you.”

Her voice was firm as she spoke, a determined ferocity that showed her experience.

“Now, let's begin.”

Taglist:

@sinoffalsejudgement @peachmuses @myazael @snnoww26 @dur55 @tip-tap-tired @ledalasombra @jennifer-rose123 @kylamai @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @stella17luna @meduarts @toodaloo-kangaroo @valeks-star @crazylittlemunchkin @achaoticmess1 @queenz-z @doll246 @aespades @liquid-luck-00 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @demigraceling-blog @kashlyn @castle-bookworms-world @a-classic-bookworm @wheredoesonegetnameideas

Thank you @cyber-geist-geist!

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plan-d-to-i · 3 years ago

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I've seen the idea shared a lot that "jiang cheng was holding on to Chenqing bc uwu he miSsed WWX 🥺" so to clarify, in the same way JGY is holding on to Suibian, jc was holding on to Chenqing as a war trophy and in his case more importantly as bait because he was convinced that if WWX were to return he would not go for the sword he stopped using but he'd definitely seek out his flute:

"Xue Yang: Give him the sword in exchange for the flute. It’s long since Wei WuXian stopped using his sword, while Suibian sealed itself and nobody can pull it out. What’s the use of keeping a fucking piece of decoration?”

Jin GuangYao, “You really ask me to do the impossible, Young Master Xue. Do you think I haven’t tried? How could anything be that simple. That Jiang WanYin has already gone mad. He still thinks Wei WuXian hasn’t died. If Wei WuXian returned, he might not search for his sword, but he’d definitely come for Chenqing. And so, he would definitely not give up Chenqing. A few more words of mine, and he might blow up." (Villainous Friends Extra)

jc wants to lure WWX and kill him as he's been hunting him for THIRTEEN YEARS. So in the temple at the end it's not surprising jc has Chenqing on him. Considering how obsessed he has been with tracking down WWX and as Chenqing was his strongest lure why would he have let it out of his sight all these years esp when cultivator's sleeves are magical storage space (it's free storage space!). & because I've also seen this wayyy to often -No it's not like a horcrux- it's not draining him of energy or joy to have it on his person lmfao. He only gives it back to WWX as a last resort, because they're all in mortal peril battling NMJ's corpse and NOTHING else is working. jc has always been happy to use WWX as a weapon. He's not returning it out of the goodness of his heart or because he's a changed man, or as a love letter to WWX lmfao.

In the Guanyin Temple the situation with NMJ's corpse is already immensely precarious. NMJ is attracted to JGY's blood and by extension Jin blood meaning -Jin Ling's.

"Now that Nie MingJue had become a fierce corpse, his resentful energy was of course highest when directed at his enemy, Jin GuangYao. However, fierce corpses didn’t tell people apart through their eyes!

Jin GuangYao was quite close to Jin Ling in terms of bloodline. To creatures of darkness, the blood and breath of both these two humans seemed somewhat familiar, and those in a state of disorientation would find it even more difficult to tell the two apart. Right now, blood poured from Jin GuangYao’s lost arm. With weak breaths, and he was almost half dead, while Jin Ling was still alive and jumping. Nie MingJue’s dead, thoughtless brain naturally held greater interest in him." (107)

Even with everyone pooling their strength to control NMJ's corpse it's not successful:

Lan WangJi commanded Bichen forth to attack straight at Nie MingJue’s chest. As expected, the blade stopped as soon as it landed. As Nie MingJue looked down and saw the glittering sword, he roared and reached for it. Lan WangJi immediately summoned back Bichen, which flew into its sheath with a loud clang. Nie MingJue ended up empty-handed. Right after, with a turn of his left hand, he flipped out the Wangji guqin and placed it on his palm. Without any hesitation, he strummed a stream of notes. Lan XiChen returned Liebing to his lips again as well. With a wave of his hand, Wei WuXian sent out over fifty talismans flying towards Nie MingJue, but before they even got close, they were ignited by his resentful energy and burned to ashes in the air!

Lan Wangji is using Wangji, Lan XiChen is using Liebing, Wei Wuxian's flute is broken so he's either whistling or throwing talismans and Wen Ning still has to intervene and stop NMJ's punch that would've killed jiang cheng (and then probably Jin Ling) w his body.

Finally WWX manages to wrestle it under control after it puts a hole in Wen Ning, when it's once more distracted by NHS and JGY. And if difficult as it's been to control so far if it kills JGY it will be even worse:

After he killed Jin GuangYao, his killing intent would definitely become stronger, and he’d be more difficult to subdue!

So NMJ has already "smashed three of the cultivators into a scarlet puddle of flesh", punched his way through Wen Ning to get to Jin Ling, he's just punched his way through SuShe and is about to go after JGY once more. Once he Rocky Balboas him we know that he'll be even more powerful, and one of his next targets will most likely be Jin so MXY or Jin Ling. Or most likely one and then the other. Meanwhile nothing is having any effect on NMJ's corpse anymore... when FINALLY jc decides to throw WWX his flute.

Nie MingJue turned around after he pulled his fist back and stared hungrily in his direction.

The harsh, stern expression on his rigid face held a sense of judgement that was no different from before he died. Even his tears had been scared away as Jin GuangYao turned to Lan XiChen for help, his voice trembling, “Brother…”

Lan XiChen turned the direction in which his blade pointed, while Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi sped up their melodies as well. But the effects of the whistle had already been overcome. It would be much harder than before for it to take effect again.

At this point, somebody on the side suddenly called, “Wei WuXian!”

jc NOW returns the flute when he has no other choice and finally NMJ can be subdued.

Lan WangJi nodded. No more words had to be exchanged as the notes of the guqin and the flute sounded in unison. The former was like a frozen river and the latter like flying birds; one suppressed while the other lured. Under the duet, Nie MingJue’s body wavered before it was finally half-forced to move its steps away from Jin GuangYao. (Chapter 108)

Like this is not jc just casually letting go of all his resentments and returning Chenqing to WWX as an act of trust and goodwill. This is jc doing what he's always been comfortable doing- using WWX as a weapon. Naturally, he's not going to ask for it back at the end, when it's already been revealed in front of the others that he has WWX's core and WWX just saved them all. WWX asks as a passing courtesy and then he's gone bc as he's said in the temple jc is in his past.

Wei WuXian took the flute. Remembering that Jiang Cheng was the one who brought it, he turned over there and commented casually, “Thanks.” He waved Chenqing, “I’ll… be keeping this?”

Jiang Cheng glanced at him, “It was yours in the first place.”

After a moment of hesitation, his lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to say something else. However, Wei WuXian had already turned to Lan WangJi. Seeing this, Jiang Cheng remained silent.

jc gets it. The end.

#really tired of the chenqing is a love language bullshit #Yunmeng NOs #I removed the cut /Keep Reading since it's not that long xx #mdzs #Wei Wuxian #Nie Mingjue #Wen Ning #Lan Wangji #jiang cheng #canon jiang cheng

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luimagines · 3 years ago

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oooh i have an idea, how would dear reader reacts to the chain's secrets? they could be canon like wolfie being twi, or something you headcanon!

Masterlist

I procrastinated on this one admittedly because I had no idea where to take it but after writing out a list and appointing a secret to each boy. I have it done.

Some things are definitely headcanons.

Part one will include Hyrule, Sky, Warrior, Four and Wild.

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

The battle wasn’t necessarily hard to deal with- the monsters weren’t difficult to deal with and there weren’t a lot of them to begin with.

You slashed, dashed and kicked every enemy away from you and watched as they fell to your blade. Every new step revealed a new purple cloud as you danced around the battle field.

You saw Wild and Twilight fighting back to back with practiced ease and handling it as well as you were. Warrior and Sky was side by side closer to Time and Legend than the rest of the group was and Four and Wind were up in the trees striking the enemy down at a distance and no doubt scheming something while the going was easy.

The only one you had no idea where he was, was Hyrule.

And that didn’t take a lot to dive into your brain and wriggle uncomfortably until your own insecure thoughts pushed you to go look for him.

Between the monsters and the land mines of purple smoke, it was a little difficult to find him.

But when you do- he does something you don’t fully understand at first.

You manage to run into him in a clearing, but he doesn’t notice you at first. Instead, you see him take his sword and run it through his palm. His blood coats the length of his blade, and it drips down his hand onto the grass below.

He watches the monsters in front of him and dances for a minute around them before he takes a breath and kills them effortlessly.

You frown and step toward him. “Why did you do that?”

Hyrule jumps higher than should be physically possible and doesn’t catch himself on the way down. He falls flat on his butt and looks up at you with wide and startled eyes.

“Are you ok?” You kneels next to him and go to take his injured hand. “What on earth were you trying to do?

Hyrule jerks his hand back like you’ve burned him and you see the magic flow through the air around his wound- closing it like it never happened.

“Link?” You frown again and slowly place your hand in your lap. You’re confused and a little afraid for him. You know that blood magic is taboo for a reason and is typically avoided more often than not because of its’s dark nature- but you never thought Hyrule of all people would dabble in it.

“I’m fine.”

“Link.” You stress a little more. “What were you trying to do? I didn’t think you were capable of blood magic... At least you don’t usually use those kind of spells. Is that why you fight on your own for a while each time?”

“I’m not using blood magic.” Hyrule frowns and stands abruptly.

“Then why-?”

“It’s not important.”

“Hyrule, you’re hurting yourself. I’d say that that’s pretty important.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t make me get Time.” You threaten. “I’ll get Legend too. I bet they’ll get some answers out of you.”

“You won’t just drop it, will you?” He sneers

“Nope.” You stand and cross your arms. “What were you trying to do?”

“I was just checking something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like if a curse would work or something?”

Hyrule tenses and he crosses his arms- instantly looking away from you.

“WERE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO CAST A CURSE?!” You screech.

“THE CURSE WAS CAST ON ME!” He yells back.

You both still for a moment and wait for the forest to show any signs that others might have heard you.

The sounds of distant fighting continues and after a minute of waiting some more, no one shows up to check on either of you, so you’re safe.

You turn back to your companion and furrows your eyebrows. You lower your voice just above a whisper just in case someone might be on the way but now you need answers. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He scowls- a face you’re not used to seeing on him and throws his arms down his sides in anger. “Back home, Ganon cast a curse on me. The monsters need my blood in order to resurrect him and I can’t risk letting any monsters from my time getting to me. I need to check if the other monsters will follow suit.”

You blink, not expecting that answer but your anger flares up regardless. “So you go out on your own to check this curse because your blood is needed to resurrect hatred incarnate? What if you’re overpowered? What if they do react to it? How are we supposed to help you if you’re alone?”

“It’s my problem to deal with. I don’t need-”

“Shut up.” You scowl and grab him by the shoulders. You shake him roughly for as long as you speak. “We are your friends! We care about you! We don’t want to see you hurt! We’re going to help you! Whether you want it or not- we’re not to let you deal with this alone. Not while we’re here.”

“Stop shaking me.”

You let him go.

“I won’t tell the others because I know you wouldn’t like that.” You say. “But this stops today. You hear me? None of us are just going to let these freaks near you and this is not necessary while you have a whole team of heroes just as pissed about the situation as you are. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“How clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

Sky

Sky wakes up one day with a far away look in his eye which immediately puts you on edge.

Not only that but to make it worse, he doesn’t stop looking at you.

He looks scared.

Every five minutes you swear you catch him looking in your direction only to look away in haste when you look back at him.

No one is saying anything and it doesn’t help your paranoia.

With some people walking ahead you, you step back and take a spot next to Sky. You notice that he’s tense and walking robotically, and trying to match your pace. “Dude, what’s up? You’re freaking me out.”

Sky trips over himself and finally looks you in the eye. “What do you mean?”

“You woke up like you saw a ghost. You’ve been looking over to me every five minutes and even now you look like you want to sprint away from me. Did I do something?”

“I.. Ummm...” Sky stutters for a minute before swallowing whatever lump was in his throat. “I just had a dream... is all.... I’ll get over it.”

“I’m assuming it had something to do with me then.”

“No, not exactly.” Sky’s quick to speak even if you can see the beginning’s of sweat collect on his brow. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Want to talk about it?” You tilt your head. “It looks like it really shook you up.”

“Oh, um, I-”

“Maybe you died and Sky freaked out.” Legend pushes you forward and away from Sky. “He doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.”

“Ok, my god, Legend slow down! Not everyone is as emotionally constipated as you! Talking about things is healthy and important!” You shout over your shoulder, trying to dig your heels into the dirt with little to no luck.

Legend seems a bit stronger right now that he usually is, you bet it’s his power bracelet.

If Sky actually looks a bit paler at Legend’s claim than neither of you notice.

The day passes a little calmer after that, Sky seeming to have calmed down enough to not be so weird and it something you’re quick to forget about.

By the time the afternoon hits, a bunch of dark and foreboding storm clouds roll in.

Somehow, Sky manages to find it in himself to walk next to you again and does his best to stay close.

You don’t mind it and even jokingly pull his sail cloth over your head when it begins to rain on your group. It’s not particularly strong and there’s not a lot of options to rest and take cover, so you bare with it. Sky lets you keep the sail cloth over your head surprisingly.

But then there’s thunder and you see lightning in the distance and bite your lip. “Maybe we should hunker down or something?”

The rain goes from gentle drops to a down pour within seconds and the group runs a bit to gain as much cover as you can in the nearby tree line.

Sky pushes himself in front of you and shoves you behind him with enough force that you’re fully knocked over. In one fluid motion he lifts the Master Sword skyward and charges the blade, tossing it away from the group in a glowing blue arc. It cuts through the grass and even splits the first tree it strikes in half before dissipated into the air.

You would have been struck by lightning if he didn’t do that.

“Sky?” You get up and try to wipe as much mud off of your pants as you can. “Are you ok? How did you know that would happen?”

Sky gulps and takes a deep breath as he looks at you with wide eyes and understanding. “I saw it in a dream.”

“Oh...” You gasp and reach out to him shakily, putting your hand on his shoulder. “You have dreams then?”

“Yes.” Sky looks at his sword and hesitantly puts it away. “Sometimes.”

“Ok then...” You nod and look around the group. They’re all in varying stages of shock, surprise and concern.

Everyone is looking at Sky.

“We need to get out of the storm.” You say in lieu of changing the topic. ” Who knows if there’s more lightning on the way and there’s a lot of metal within the group.“

“Right.” Time nods and does a not so subtle double take in his attempt to leave it be. “Let’s go.”

You nod back and nod once more to Sky and wrap your arm around his shoulder. you lead him forward and lean into his space to whisper into his ear. “Thanks.”

“I’m just glad I made in time.”

“We’ll talk later ok?” You smile in hopes of alleviating some of the tension. “I have some questions if you’re willing to indulge me.”

“I suppose it’s only fair.”

Warrior

“He’s a cute kid.” Warrior mentions randomly one day.

You startle and jump, nearly dropping the image. You scramble to catch it and successfully do so after playing hot potato with yourself.

“Warrior, a little warning please.” You sigh and attempt to clean your finger print smudges on the glass. “But yeah, my little brother is cute. I hope he stays that way.”

“I don’t think you have much to worry about.” Warrior shrugs. “He grows up to be a fine and upstanding young man. Good looks run in the family. ”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Thank you, I’m sure they do.”

Warrior comes to stand next to you and gently turns the glass over to see the image better.

“Warrior?”

“Hm?”

“Am I doing the right thing?” You sigh.

“What do you mean? I’d say you are. Sacrificing yourself for the good of a better tomorrow- for your family- for your loved ones- but that’s not what you’re talking about are you?” Warrior lets you take the image back.

“But he’s so young... and I’m supposed to take care of him.” You gulp. “I just want him to be safe and sound and healthy but I can’t really do that from- from... I’m here instead.“

“Well... no said it was going to be easy.” Warrior offers lamely.

“What if he grows up to hate me?” You clench the glass tighter at the thought. “I just abandoned him, didn’t I? Oh my god-”

“Hey. He loves you.” Warrior takes your shoulders in his hands and shakes you somewhat. “He admires you greatly. You’re his hero. He looks up to you even now. He’ll understand when the time comes.”

“Even now?” You sniff. “What does that mean?”

“Years have passed and he hasn’t stopped looking up to you and how you did everything you could for him, for Zelda and he’s trying to make you proud-”

“Warrior he’s five, how do you know this?”

His mouth shuts with a click of his teeth.

“Warrior.”

“Um... I... He...”

“Link.” You pocket the glass and face him head on. “When did you meet my brother?”

He stares at you for a moment and deflates. “During... during the war of my era.”

“...What?”

Warrior hisses and brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “He showed up around the same time that Wind did but he talked about you.... and I guess you talk to him about me because he wasn’t really surprised at what was happening.”

“How old was he?” You bite your lip, already dreading the news.

“Older than me actually.” He offers with a tight smile. “I never asked him but if I had to guess I would have put him in his mid twenties. The oldest Link to start his adventure compared to the rest of us...”

“But he still...” You deflate as well and hug your arms around yourself. “He still has to go doesn’t he? I can’t save him from it. Even now, I... I can’t- I fail him in the end then.”

“He doesn’t see it that way at all.” Warrior catches you before you fall to your knees in despair. “He admires everything you’ve done for him, everything you’re currently doing. You kept him from danger for as long as you could- until he was old enough to take on his destiny. That’s more than any of us could say.”

“I don’t want him to go through any of it though.” You sob and lean into Warrior for support. “That’s my baby brother Warrior- how am I supposed to be ok with this?”

“I don’t think there is a way.” He admits. “Nor do I think you should be.”

“I can’t keep him from it.”

“But you can and have been postponing it.” Warrior rubs circles into your shoulder as you cry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you even more.”

“I miss him.”

“You’ll see him again.” Warrior grips you tightly. “He also did very well all things considered. He became an older brother to me and to Sprite and Wind... I don’t think Wind has figured it out yet that your brother and Lucky are the same Link though.”

You sniffle and calm down slightly. “Was he awesome?”

A laugh is startled out of him and he chokes on the snort and cough that tries to leave him at the same time. “I’d say he was better than me... And he claims to have never held a sword until then.”

“Good.” You nod. “He’s the best brother in the whole world.”

“Yeah, he was.”

Four

You’re walking on a random trail as the day dies down and you’re partner is Four for the hour.

The sun rests behind you comfortably and you talk about the different weapons from each others Hyrule. You’re no smith- but you do think it’s an interesting process and try to take notes where you can.

As you trade your notes and laugh at the more ridiculous stories from one another, you look down and notice something weird with Four’s shadow.

It almost looked like it was laughing along too... in the opposite direction that Four was looking in. But you blink and it’s as if it never there.

Maybe you’re tired.

You have been walking all day and perhaps it was a trick of the light.

You don’t think on it too much and go back to talking with your friend.

Hours later-you’d think that it would be the end of it but it isn’t.

In fact, you can’t sleep. And the way it moved was different than it should have been and the more you look into the memory there more obscurities than there should be. Not to mention that Four gets weird around shadows or whenever they are mentioned.

You stare up at the star filled sky as you think about the incident.

“I’m telling you I think they saw me.” A new voice says.

You’re thrust into the moment and attune your hearing to the direction it came from.

“I think you’re thinking too much into it. How could they have seen you?” It’s Four.

You close your eyes and roll over in the same direction, pretending to still be asleep.

The voices take a minute to pick up again when you do that.

They were watching you.

“They stared at me for a solid minute- how did you miss that?” New voices hisses.

“They were laughing-”

“You were laughing, you love sick fool. They looked at me. They saw me. I’m going to blow the secret and you’re not even listening to my warning.”

Your eyes snap open and you push yourself up as quickly as you can.

You instantly spot Four sitting by the fire, but you’re not surprised by that. What really takes your attention is the new person next to him- who looks uncannily like your friend.

But with purple hair...

And red eyes...

And darker skin...

“Four what the hell?” You blurt.

Four responds quickly and as intelligently as he can manage. “Uhhhh...”

The person next to him curses and runs a hand through his hair. “I told you. I told you. I told you.”

You lock eyes with the new guy and introduce yourself.

He huffs and crosses his arms, his face darkening slightly- or again- maybe it was a trick of the light. “I’m Four’s shadow.”

“His... shadow...?”

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

You nod, wide eyed before turning to Four with a million questions in your eyes. He can see it and holds his hand up to his mouth, pressing his knuckles harshly against his teeth as he waits for them to start flowing out of your mouth.

“Love sick fool?”

“Shadow you snitch!” Four screeches and takes a swing at him.

His cry is loud enough rouse some of the others but only really wakes up two of them. You stare tensely as Time and Legend sit up fast enough to nearly throw themselves into the fire as they turn to Four.

“Sorry.” You whisper yell to save his honor.

Shadow is nowhere to be found.

Time and Legend turn to you as the only other one awake and each raise an eyebrow in tandem.

“Ni-nightmare. I yelled. I’m sorry.” You try to act like you just woke up as well and try to hunker down into your blankets.

Time sighs and wipes his eyes. “You ok?”

“I will be.” You try to smile but you’re too nervous and it comes out more forced than it should- but perhaps that helps you sell your little fib.

Legend for his part glares at you before he sits down with a solid thump and throws himself dramatically back into his bedroll.

No words are exchanged between you two.

“Everything alright Four?” Time yawns as he also begins to lie down again.

“Yeah. All good here.” Four laugh nervously and waves him away.

Time nods, no longer paying attention and slowly... nearly half an hour later, you see that the two of them have fallen asleep again. Thankfully neither of them seem to realize that it didn’t sound like your voice at all.

Shadow appears again from somewhere and takes his spot next to Four. “Nice going.”

“Shut up.”

“Four, I have questions.” You sit up and make your way over to the two of them.

Shadow raises an eyebrow. “What’s there to explain?”

“Everything?”

“Ok. Ok. Both of you, don’t start. You caught us fair and square. Sit down.” Four sighs and gestures to the other spot next to him. “It’ll take a while.”

“Done.” You grin and nearly run over a sleeping Sky in the process. “Tell me everything.”

Wild

“Has anyone seen Mr. Champion?” You glance up after doing a supply check through your bag. You’re running a little low on rations and know the resident cook usually has some to spare.

But you haven’t seen him in a while.

“Didn’t he go to get fire wood?” Wind tilts his head.

“Wasn’t that at least an hour ago?” You respond, furrowing your eyebrows as you think about it more. Where did Wild go?

“He hasn’t come back yet?” Warrior sits up straighter. Now the rest of the group is a little more aware of their missing member and each start subconsciously checking the tree line as if he were about to come back that very second.

“I can go look for him.” You offer, standing up. “Maybe he got distracted. We are in a new area.”

“Oh great, he could be miles away and we’d never know.” Legend groans and throws his head back. “Just what we needed.”

“Have a little faith Vet.” You snort. With a quick jump and skip over the supplies, you begin to leave the camp behind. “Try calling him Wind, I’ll see if I can go find our missing chef before dinner.”

“Please do.” Time nods. “We’ll start a full search party if you’re not back within the next hour though. It’s getting too dark.”

“Noted.”

“I could find him faster.” You hear Twilight say but you’re already too far away to back down now.

Truthfully, you have no idea where to start- but you imagine that to find Wild- one must think like Wild.

You pick a direction and stick with it.

At some point maybe fifteen minutes in you reach a small creek and begin to follow to stream upwards.

It’s really more like you’re taking a hike than searching for your friend and you begin to feel a little stupid even if realistically there’s no other way for this to be done.

That is- until you see him anyway.

He’s seems to be frozen in place, staring off into the distance with his hands still held mid air, gripping the canteen he appears to have been filling up.

It confuses you and you stand there staring at him to move- to blink- to do something. But he doesn’t. “Wild?”

No response.

“Champion?” You call a little louder and begin to tip toe a little closer to him. You’re afraid that even the slightest snapping of a twig would break whatever spell he’s under and you don’t fancy a violent reaction out the man who can easily blow the whole area up with little to nothing.

But still no response.

“Link!” You hiss and eventually reach his side. He hasn’t once turned in your direction or even acknowledged your presence and you begin to doubt that he’s even conscious.

His eyes are open and he’s knelt beside the creek but maybe he got hit with some magic or something- you don’t know.

You gulp and place a hand on his shoulder. You shake him lightly but when that also proves to not do anything you begin to shake him more and more until you nearly throw him over-but he does not react at all.

“Oh boy... What on earth happened to you?” You bite you lip and begin to look around. He’s too heavy for you to carry on your own and also too far away to yell for help or assistance.

You should have dragged Twilight with you.

Suddenly he takes a deep breath and blinks rapidly, shaking himself back into the present.

You freeze and tense up considerably as you watch him come back to himself.

Wild stretches and looks up at the sky before standing up. “Twilight’s not going to like this.”

“No. I don’t think so.” You reply.

He freezes as well and looks at you by only shifting his eyes. “How long were you here for?”

“A while...” You admit. “Maybe fifteen minutes. You were gone for over an hour. I got worried.”

“Oh. That’s not so bad then.”

“You ok?” You gulp and slowly drop your shoulders from your ears and unclench your fists.

“Yup. Peachy.”

You nod and continue to lower your guard- not trusting this one bit. “May I ask what that was?”

“Just a memory.” He shrugs and tries to walk past you.

“A memory?” You frown and turn on your heel to follow him. “A memory? I shook you head enough to nearly throw you into the water and you claim it was because of a flashback? I’ve heard of disassociation before but I think this is more like astral projection through dimensions. You were completely gone!”

“It happens from time to time. Nothing to worry about.”

“What if something came up behind you and killed you?” You argue. “I’d say that’s something to worry about. Does this happen often?”

“Everyone once in a while. Maybe once every other month. It depends really. It doesn’t happen as often as it did in the beginning though.” Wild admits and gestures for you to follow him.

You do- but you keep asking him questions.

“So this is normal?”

“For me? Yes.”

“For you?”

“I...” Wild hisses slightly as another thought comes to his mind. “I never told you did I?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m going to assume that no, you didn’t.”

“I get memories from my old life from time to time when something triggers them. I used to have amnesia but I’ve got most of the my memories back at this point... By now it’s just filling in little blanks.” Wild shrugs. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh...” Understanding calms you somewhat. At least it’s not a magic spell or anything. “How did you get amnesia? Do you remember that?”

Wild stops in his tracks and looks at the ground momentarily before looking up again and walking forward. “I died.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I died.”

“Huh?”

“I. Died.”

“WILD!” You tense up again and follow him without hesitation. “What do you mean you died? Did you heart just stop or were you like blow up or something- Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I’m being super insensitive right now, aren’t I? But I don’t understand! I don’t- Wild- Link- you can’t just drop a bomb like that. Are you like a ghost or something? No. Wait. You can bleed and I’ve seen you crash into more walls and rocks than I care to admit.”

“This isn’t exactly the reaction I was expecting.” Wild frowns and cuts you off.

“ArE YOu oK?!”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

“But that’s not what I mean- How can that even make sense-”

“Where did you think I got my scars from?” Wild cuts you off once more with a barely restrained snort as he bites his lip.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m fine I promise.”

“Wild nooo....” You whine and Wild thinks for a minute that the information upset you so much that you’re going to cry. “Who did it? I’ll kill them with my bare hands. Who hurt you?”

Wild comes to a full stop again and sighs. Deep and tired but he tilts his head and offers you his hand. “Do you want the short story or the long?”

“Long story please.”

For the first time since this conversation started, Wild smiles even if it’s faint and subtle. “Alright, let’s take the scenic route back. This might take a while.”

Part 2

#linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #linked universe #is my personal plot line growing #maybe #maybe not #those you have been following for a while will take Warrior's call back for what it is #can't fully break away from god given duties can you?#Link is no exception #also #Apparently Sky gets prophetic dreams #i've never played skyward sword #but I've been meaning to get it for the Switch #so soon!!#Maybe Sky will be easier to write after I play it

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wisteriashouse · 4 years ago

Text

irresistible.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: fluff, nsfw, fuck or die troupe (i can’t believe i did this)

word count: 5015

remarks: a commission by the lovely @sburbanjumble!! i hope you enjoy sweet and spicy kyoujurou <3 this is a rewrite of desire, but if kyoujurou were the one hit by the demon instead!

This demon is unlike any other you’ve ever faced before.

“Kyoujurou, follow up on my attack!” You shout as you press forward with your blade, putting all your strength in your arms as you aim for the demon’s neck. Eyes widening as your nichirin blade descends in a gleaming arc, the demon barely manages to throw up her arms in time to shield herself, and there’s a couple of wet thumps as her limbs fall to the grass, sliced clean off by your sword. Behind you, Kyoujurou leaps down, his sword held high as he swings.

“Flame Breathing, Third Form, Blazing Universe!”

You have to leap out of the way to dodge the shockwaves from Kyouojurou’s strike, so powerful that you feel the ground under your feet tremble for a second. Unfortunately for the both of you, the demon is just as fast as well - before Kyoujurou’s sword can cut clean through her neck, she vanishes in a cloud of sickly smelling smoke.

Your eyes dart around the darkness of the forest, blade already held up in an offensive stance for the slightest signal to attack, but Kyoujurou lands nimbly in front of you, holding out one hand to pull you back and the other gripping his own sword tight.

“We still don’t know what her abilities are or what her smoke does. Don’t be too hasty,” he warns you, voice low. Adrenaline is still pumping through your veins, but at your partner’s stern words, you force yourself to take a few breaths to calm yourself down. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down.

“Okay, I got it.” Adjusting the grip on your sword once more, you let out a breath and hold up your blade. “I got caught up in the moment for a bit. Sorry about that.”

The battle hardened expression on Kyoujurou’s face breaks for just a second to beam at you warmly, and its familiarity puts you at ease. “It’s no problem,” Kyoujurou smiles. “You know I’ve always got your back no matter what-” his eyes widen for a split second at something behind you. “Watch out!”

Out of nowhere, however, five shining claws erupt out of the shadows straight towards you - only your reflexes, honed from years of training, allow you to dodge by jumping back right in time, the trace of a sickly sweet scent tickling your nose. Its regeneration speed is fast. Behind you, Kyoujurou slashes at the demon once more, but it vanishes into the darkness of the forest before the blade can connect. Disoriented and senses thrown into disarray by the sudden attack, you almost don’t notice fangs bared at you until it’s too late.

“[name]!” There’s a forceful tug on your arm and you’re sent stumbling forward a few steps, clouds of fuschia pink smoke erupting into the air right where you’d been standing less than a second ago. You’re left coughing and hacking as a sickly fragrance, but through the murky haze clouding your mind, you remember Kyoujurou, who was left standing in the spot that you’d been in prior.

“Kyoujurou!” Gripping your sword tightly with one hand and waving the residue smoke away from your face with the other, your eyes dart about the clearing, searching for Kyoujurou. “Are you alright?”

You find Kyoujurou surrounded by thick clouds of smoke and his hands clasped over his mouth, the demon responsible for it all cackling madly as she raises her claws, pointed tips glinting in the dim light of the moon. Before she can bring them down, however, you lunge forward with your blade with a forward strike, the tip of your blade piercing clean through her shoulder and pinning her against a tree. The pained scream that she lets out must have been heard for miles around.

You take this brief moment to glance back at Kyoujurou, heart hammering wildly in your chest with concern. “Kyoujurou, are you alright?” You call, voice urgent. Kyoujurou does not reply, instead shaking his head firmly as he hunches over, clearly in discomfort. Poison, perhaps? Anxiety floods through you, but you steel yourself and turn back to the demon.

“What did your smoke do to him?”

The demon only laughs at your demand, even as blood trickles down the wound on her shoulder. “Did you really think I would tell you? Think again! As if I would ever tell an accursed demon slayer like you-”

Gripping your sword by the handle, you wrench it with all your might and the demon lets out another shriek of agony, so shrill you can feel your ears ringing. “Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time,” you say icily, teeth gritted. While you take no pleasure in causing another creature’s pain, even demons, there’s only so much dallying you can take when Kyoujurou is suffering behind you. “Tell me, and I will speed your passing. If not...” You raise your sword in a wordless warning.

It is brief, but you catch the faintest flicker of fear in the demon’s eyes as she stares up at you. For good measure, you tighten your grip on your sword once more, ready to drive it into her flesh a second time, but she speaks.

“Fine,” she spits, her glare so venomous you can almost feel it eating away at your skin. “My smoke causes an... arousal of the human senses, sending them into overdrive and consuming the mind. If that man doesn’t lie with someone...” her smile is fanged with wicked amusement, “his mind will go insane with lust and he’ll suffer in agonizing pain!”

At her words, your breath is caught in your throat. As much as you want to say that all demons do is lie, from the look in her eyes to the triumphant grin on her blood stained lips, all the signs say that she is telling the truth. Unfortunately, you don’t have the time nor luxury to ponder over this too much, not when every second counts now.

“Then, just as I promised.” Yanking your sword from her flesh, you decapitate her with one swift strike - too fast for her to even let out another scream. Even before her severed head has hit the ground, you’re already running to Kyoujurou’s side, the man having sagged to his knees and only kept upright by the sword he’s driven into the ground to use as a crutch. Crouching next to him, you support his weight as gently as you can, but the heat radiating off his skin takes you by surprise. “Kyoujurou, you’re burning up!”

“I… I’m sorry,” Kyoujurou barely manages to make out between laboured breaths, his face twisted from the discomfort. Quickly, you raise a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, but his hand latches onto your wrist before you can so much as touch his bare skin. He’s trembling faintly, as hard as he tries to conceal it from you, and it almost scares you to see him like this. “Don’t… Not when I’m like this. You should probably leave.”

“What?” You hiss at him, equal parts angry and baffled. “This isn’t a matter of pride, Kyoujurou! I know that you’re a Pillar, but you’ll most definitely not be fine like this. We need to get you to the nearest village, then we can think about what we can do from there. Maybe they’ll have strong enough painkillers that will be able to knock you out for a while, or something to help alleviate the pain-”

“The nearest village is at least a day’s travel from here,” Kyoujurou cuts you off, shaking his head urgently. “And besides, it’s not safe for you to be here with me right now.” You catch him glancing at you for a second before his gaze leaves you, but is that a hint of… desire you see flickering in his eyes? “The state the demon has put my body in is an unprecedented one… I don’t know what I’ll do to you like this. It would be safer if you put some distance between the two of us… I can already feel it growing worse.”

At his words, you frown in confusion for a moment before realisation descends upon you. So that’s what the demon had meant by arousal of the senses…

“But I can’t just leave you like this,” you begin to protest, anxious, but Kyoujurou waves you off.

“I’ll be fine.” Even though he’s the one in this state, he’s still trying to reassure you. “The blood demon art should wear off when dawn comes, so I need only endure this,” he shudders, body tensing up for a second, “until morning. There’s no need for you to worry.”

Even as Kyoujurou says these words, you can see his body starting to shake almost violently, his jaw clenched so hard that you can see the veins protruding along the side of his neck. It just makes you feel even worse when you remember that he had only gotten into this situation trying to save you, or else your roles would be reversed right now. Sunrise is still hours away. Chewing on your bottom lip, you force yourself to concentrate. Think, think, think! What did the demon say about his condition earlier?

If that man doesn’t lie with someone…

You falter for a moment. By lie, she can’t possibly have meant…

There’s no other meaning for the word lie that can be applied in this context, is there?

You glance worriedly at Kyoujurou, but the man only shakes his head. He must have heard the demon’s words from earlier and already made up his mind, without so much as consulting you, no less. Stupid, selfless, self sacrificing Kyoujurou. When will he learn to put himself before others for a change? Does he have any idea how you’ll feel leaving him to suffer like this until sunrise comes, all while knowing that you could have done something to fix this?

For some reason, that thought only frustrates you to no end, and making up your mind with that, you reach for the top button of your uniform.

Before you can begin undoing your shirt, however, Kyoujurou’s hand grips latches around your wrist, so hard you can almost feel the beginning of bruises forming on your skin. Kyoujurou is always careful whenever it comes to you, so it’s a testament to the extent that the blood demon art has affected him, his self control slipping away with each passing second. When you look up at him questioningly, his brow is furrowed with confusion, lips parted.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You hiss back, but you can feel your own fingers trembling slightly from the nerves. “If you… lie with me, it should relieve the pain brought about by the demon’s blood art. Friends would do this for each other, wouldn’t they?”

Would they, though? The thought just makes you uncomfortable, so you simply shrug it aside. You can think about that after you’ve solved Kyoujurou’s problem. However, Kyoujurou’s answer takes you by surprise.

“I cannot,” Kyoujurou says immediately, voice so firm you’re taken by surprise for a second. Is he perhaps worried about your discomfort? In comparison to the pain he seems to be in now, body wracked with shivers and teeth gritted so hard you can almost hear his jaw creak, it will be nothing.

“I really don’t mind,” you begin to say, but Kyoujurou cuts you off once more.

“No.”

“Kyoujurou, this is not the time to be stubborn,” you try to shrug him off, but the grip he has on your wrist is too tight. Frustrated, you glare up at Kyoujurou. You want to help him, but you can’t do anything if he insists on being like this. “Why do you reject me? Is it because I’m not good enough for you? To the point that you’d prefer to suffer like this?”

The more you shout, the more frustrated you feel, tears starting to escape the corners of your eyes. His rejection does sting, yes, but more than that is the helplessness you feel when you see him in pain, yet are unable to do anything to alleviate it.

“So you’re telling me to just walk away?” You continue to shout, voice breaking. Your throat feels thick. “Well, curse it, Kyoujurou, I can’t just do something like that. I-”

A gentle pressure on your lips cuts your words off, and you look up in surprise through wet lashes to see Kyoujurou’s finger pressed against your mouth to silence you. There’s a conflicted expression on his face, caught between a pained frown and a tender smile.

“Don’t say that,” he rasps quietly, managing a smile to comfort you even through his own pain. “You shouldn’t give your body so easily to me... it should be saved for the person that you want to give your heart to. Didn’t you tell me before that… there’s someone who you hold feelings for?”

You stare at him in shock. Why is he still thinking about something like this even now? And besides…

“I cannot possibly let you do that knowing that you have feelings for someone else,” Kyoujurou continues. He’s struggling to get the words out now, his breaths shallow. “So, there is no need to worry about me, I assure you that I will be fine-”

“What if,” your words come out a whisper, “I told you that someone is you?”

For a moment, nothing but those words hang in the silence between the two of you. Kyoujurou’s eyes are wide with shock, but you force yourself to hold his gaze, unwilling to back down. You’re determined to convey every bit of genuinity in your heart and make it known - perhaps the demon was in fact a blessing in disguise that created the circumstance to put aside your cowardice and reveal your true feelings to him now.

“I understand if you don’t return my feelings,” you say firmly, before Kyoujurou can say a word. “However, I too, assure you… that doing this with you…” it feels strange, saying it out loud like this, “it wouldn’t be a bad thing… to me at least. So please, let me help you.”

Kyoujurou is still staring at you, but then he lets out a pained groan and crumples over, unable to keep himself upright any longer. Frantic, you race over to help him up, but the second you touch him, you feel a pair of hands grip your waist before the entire night sky above seems to flip over your head. The next thing you know, you’re on your back in the grass, Kyoujurou straddling your hips. You can’t see the expression on his face, his breath ghosting the side of your neck.

You swallow, but raise a hand to rest it on the top of his head comfortingly. “You okay, Kyoujurou?”

“Ahh… this wasn’t how I wanted to do this,” Kyoujurou murmurs against the shell of your ear, and you almost yelp when you feel teeth roughly scrape the delicate skin.

“W-what, what do you mean?”

“It should have started with my confession,” your momentary shock is cast aside when you feel a large hand sliding up your side, up your ribs to the collar of your uniform shirt, playing at the top button as if to distract himself. “I would have brought you out to dinner, perhaps some flowers… and yet here we are, doing everything backwards. On the forest floor, no less. It is not the place I would have chosen for our first time together.”

All you can manage is a laugh, something akin to warmth burning in your chest as quiet joy overflows. “As long as it’s with you, I don’t mind,” you whisper. Taking his hand, you place it firmly against the top of your collar, the brass of your button cool against your joined hands. “So please, Kyoujurou.”

You can feel it, the deep breath he takes before he descends, mouth kissing along the bare skin of your neck while his hand deftly undoes the buttons of your uniform. Before you have time to be nervous, Kyoujurou’s lips are already on the slope of your collarbones, nipping and sucking lightly as you gasp. “Beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, and you have to fight back your blush.

As your top slips off your shoulders, leaving you exposed to his gaze, you shiver slightly as the cold of the night air leaves goosebumps on your skin. Kyoujurou, ever attentive, notices right away. “Don’t worry,” his fingers trail down your side, before they’re replaced by his lips, hot against your bare skin. The sensation is foreign, a little ticklish even, but strangely welcome, and you have to try not to squirm. “I’ll warm you up in a moment.”

His hands tug at the buckle of your belt even as he continues to map out your body with his mouth, leaving little bruises and marks on you. They sting pleasantly, and with each new one Kyoujurou adds to your skin, you fight back a little moan at the feeling, pressing your legs together to alleviate the strange ache there. Although the night is cool, you feel hot, burning up together with Kyoujurou as he makes good on his promise to warm you up. Perhaps the demon’s blood art is contagious? You wouldn’t mind...

There’s a metallic clink, and the belt around your waist loosens before it slides off you, falling to the ground with a soft thump. Your uniform pants follow soon after, slipped down your legs together with your undergarments, and it’s then you feel cool air brushing against you right there.

Suddenly shy, you press your thighs together, unable to bear the way Kyoujurou’s eyes rake over your body almost hungrily. Still, for all his desire, he remains patient with you, coaxing your legs open carefully with a gentle touch that you can’t help but obey. Fingers skimming up your legs, first from your ankles up to the crook of your knee and finally to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, you bite back a whimper the closer his touch comes to where you need it most.

Slowly, almost carefully, Kyoujurou runs the tip of his fingers along your damp folds and you shudder, the seemingly light touch intensifying ten fold and sending little shockwaves of pleasure down your body. It feels strange, but your body chases it of its own accord, pressing against his hand in a silent plea for more.

“Does it feel good?” Kyoujurou whispers, and you nod urgently. Anything to get rid of that aching, sudden emptiness in you.

“Please,” your voice comes out as a whine, and if you weren’t so aroused you would be mortified by how needy you sound. Isn’t it supposed to be Kyoujurou who is affected by the demon’s spell? “Touch me, Kyoujurou.”

“Mmm, don’t be impatient,” his thumb rubs circles over you, its glide made effortless by the slick now coating his fingers. The pressure relieves you for a second before an even more intense need crashes hot on its heels, unrelenting. When you whine again, all composure now thrown to the wind, Kyoujurou bites his lip and probes, his finger parting your folds to sink into you slowly. Your gasp catches in your throat, and all you can do is let your head fall back as your walls tighten around him, as if trying to keep him inside you.

“More,” you plead, nearly begging him now. One finger isn’t nearly enough, and Kyoujurou proceeds to press another into you even as you squirm on his fingers. A short, bitten off moan escapes you when he starts to move his fingers at a leisurely pace, pumping them in and out of you with an obscene squelching sound. “Kyoujurou, don’t tease.”

“I need to make sure I don’t hurt you,” you tremble under him when he begins to scissor you carefully, making sure to stretch you out so that you’ll be able to take him more easily later. Eager for more but unable to complain, you move your hips towards his hands so that his fingers can press deeper into you, shuddering when his fingers crook against a certain spot. Reaching up, you curl your hands at the nape of his neck and tugging him down towards you so that you can kiss him.

His tongue licks into your mouth, hot and wet, as his fingers still continue to move in you. Arching your back in an attempt to draw closer to him, you suck on his tongue lightly and Kyoujurou lets out a groan, a rumble from deep within his chest.

“Ready, ready,” you break the kiss to tell him, helplessly fucking yourself on his fingers. Pleasure sets every nerve ending alight, from the tips of your fingers to your toes. “Please, Kyoujurou.”

Kyoujurou’s eyes gleam, but you too, can see how badly he needs it. He’s trembling, almost feverishly now, but still he manages a smile as he looks down at you. “Always so impatient with me,” he dips down to plunder your mouth once more, rough and forceful this time, curling his fingers in you and causing you to pant into his mouth. This draws a slight laugh out of him. His fingers slip out of you, and you let out a long, keening whine in complaint.

“Don’t worry,” he squeezes your thigh and you shiver at the look in his eyes. “I promise I won’t leave you wanting.”

Even through the feeling of Kyoujurou’s body on yours and his lips of your skin, you faintly hear the clink of a belt being undone. A moan of anticipation leaves you, and you can’t help but part your legs in response. You need more, more to alleviate the burning ache in you that just doesn’t seem to abate.

Something presses against your entrance, hard and heavy, and your hips press against it involuntarily, demanding more. To your confusion, Kyoujurou doesn’t enter you immediately, instead taking a moment to run his length up and down your folds, and you let out a pathetic little moan when he denies you. Kyoujurou laughs, but it’s rougher, lower this time.

“Impatient,” he repeats, leaning over you. You look up at him pleadingly, sure that tears are gathering in the corner of your eyes from how badly you need it, but Kyoujurou leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Tell me you want it.”

You gape at him, words leaving you for a second at his sudden demand. “Wha-”

“I need to know that you want this as much as I do.” Kyoujurou’s hands trace the spot over your heart, littered with bruises that will probably turn into dark red blooms tomorrow morning. “Tell me with your own words and your mouth that you want this.”

“I-” You flush, biting your bottom lip in embarrassment. The words feel almost shameful on your tongue, but you remind yourself that this is Kyoujurou. “I…” Your voice comes out hushed, barely above a whisper. “I want you, Kyoujurou. I really do.”

Kyoujurou smiles in response, kissing you gently. His hands slide down to your knees, parting your legs and coaxing them to wrap around his waist, which you obey immediately. That’s when you feel him begin to press into you, parting your folds and slowly sinking into you. At first, the stretch is still bearable, but the further he slides into you, you can’t help but let out a little cry as you stretch more to accommodate his length.

“Too much?” Kyoujurou presses kisses to your hair, the crown of your head. You shake your head determinedly, tightening the hold your legs have around his waist.

“N-no, keep going,” you say, clinging to his form. Kyoujurou looks over you with concern in his eyes, before he nips comfortingly on your lower lip.

“You can bite down on me if you want,” he whispers, kissing the side of your neck. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

With those words, he begins moving again, and you fight back another sob as he stretches you open further. Unable to stand the pain, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, teeth latching onto his shoulder. True to his word, Kyoujurou doesn’t even flinch when your teeth break his skin. Instead, he only rubs soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh in a silent bid to comfort.

You’re no stranger to pain, and you’ve trained in many ways to dull it in your years as a demon slayer. Taking a deep breath, you focus your mind and instruct your body to relax, allowing Kyoujurou to slip deeper into you. After a few moments, the pain begins to abate, and you carefully regulate your breathing before you grip his hand tight.

He glances down at you and you nod wordlessly. With a gentle squeeze of your hip, Kyoujurou begins to move once more, and although the ache still lingers, it has already started to dull, replaced by that feeling of fullness that you had experienced earlier with Kyoujurou’s fingers in you, only this time magnified a hundredfold.

When he finally sinks in you all the way to the hilt, you pause for a moment to adjust to the near overwhelming feeling of being filled so completely, busying yourself with sucking marks into Kyoujurou’s neck like he’d done for you earlier. Kyoujurou groans lowly in his throat, murmuring words of encouragement with each mark you leave on his skin - he seems pleased about it. When your teeth latch on to the lobe of his ear, Kyoujurou begins pulling out of you, much to your despair, but before you can whine about it once more, Kyoujurou slams back into you with a smooth, forceful thrust, and your words turn into nothing more than a choked gasp trapped in your throat.

After that, he doesn’t give you a second to breathe, hips pistoning in you with fervour, and all you can do is lie back and take it, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Kyoujurou runs his mouth over your shoulder, your forehead, your collarbone. Faintly, you feel Kyoujurou’s hand work its way between your bodies, coming to a stop at where your bodies are joined. Before you can ask what he’s doing, his fingers slip down to worry your clit roughly and you let out a cry, nails digging into the skin at his back and arms as you cling to him. Kyoujurou hums, a pleased, satisfied sound and only redoubles his efforts, causing your body to tremble with sensation.

The pleasure builds up in you, almost overwhelming, a wave of pleasure surging straight for you. Before you can warn Kyoujurou, it crashes over you and a high pitched sob works its way out of your throat, your body trying to curl up on itself as if that will alleviate the intensity that’s overtaking your body. Above you, you distantly register Kyoujurou’s low groan as his thrusts lose their rhythm before he pulls out of you completely, something warm splattering on your thigh.

Too tired to form words, you simply hold out your arms and Kyoujurou instantly moves into them, tugging you into his hold so that you can rest your head on his shoulder. Already, you can feel the beginnings of an ache in your legs and arms, and from what the older demon slayers have told you before, your… abdomen would probably feel the same way as well tomorrow. Still, you think, looking up at Kyoujurou’s flushed but content face, you think that this was completely worth it.

A gentle kiss to your temple pulls you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Kyoujurou with a slight smile on his face as he gazes down at you. “Are you feeling alright? I might have been a bit too rough there.” His fingertips trace your bare shoulders, the love bites at your neck, and finally your lips. You shake your head, content to go limp against him as he cradles you carefully.

“No, I’m fine.” Glancing up at him, you wonder if the flush on his cheeks is from the earlier exertion or if he’s still affected by the demon’s spell. You try to raise a hand, but overestimate your strength - your hand falls back to your lap before it can even reach halfway to his forehead. Still, Kyoujurou only picks up your own hand with his and presses it to his forehead for you, and you’re relieved to find out that although his body temperature is running warm, it’s nothing like the unnatural heat that had been burning him up from before. “It’s good that you’re alright now.”

“[name]...” The solemnity of Kyoujurou’s voice takes you by surprise. When you glance at him, you see him looking at you with a slightly furrowed brow, hesitation flickering in his golden eyes. “The words you spoke earlier, about the person that you had feelings for being me… was that the truth?”

You blink at him, slightly confused. Had you not been genuine enough with your feelings earlier? Determined to put this doubt to rest, you grab him by the cheeks with a strength that you certainly didn’t have earlier, pulling him close so that your foreheads are pressed against each other’s and you can feel his breath dancing over your skin.

“You, yes you.” You repeat, punctuating each word with a kiss to his lips, which helplessly turn up in a smile under your affections. You can’t help the smile on your face that mirrors his own, his happiness palpable and all too contagious. “I can’t believe that it took a situation like this for me to confess. You better make it up to me, you hear me?”

Kyoujurou laughs, nuzzling your neck. “Okay, okay. The sequence is out of order now but,” he smiles at you, “how about I bring you out to dinner? My treat, of course.”

You have to press your face against his shoulder to hide your smile.

“That sounds lovely.”

#rengoku kyojuro #rengoku #rengoku fanfic #kyojuro #kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #kny #kny kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kimetsu rengoku

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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago

Note

If your requests are open, could you maybe do a C!Techno x Reader? Like, the Butcher Army is there for Techno and Phil wasn't able to give him a\such an early head's up so he's not really prepared, and Quackity has the reader hostage when they show, cause maybe they were outside doing something... You don't have to, of course! -Sugar Anon (may I claim this Anon?)

Ooh! Most definitely! And of course you can claim it your my first anon!🖤

Warnings: Blood, swearing

Techno was a pretty well known man, lets face it. Maybe not in the way you hoped, and in this instance you mean he was wanted.

But you were not awhere of that because you lived with him out in the chilly Tundra. Phil would usally bring you two the new updates and anything you should be aware of. So when he didnt show for his morning tea you were a but skeptical to say the least. But techno had casually shrugged his shoulders, waving it off that he had gotten busy. This was true. Phil was a awfully busy man, he never seemed to stop moving, building, or exploring. So you joined techno on his assumption.

Techno was casually brewing potions that afternoon. Not a uncommon occurance to say the least. You had grown accustomed to seeing the towering man working over his bottles. His large but gentle hands gracefully, and carefully manuvering the glasses to where he pleased.

"Techno love? Im going to go trade these books nearby ok?" You mentioned as you took your cloak. Slipping it on so you could contain your warm. Techno hummed in agreement. Since you were so far from L'amanburg he didn't really mind you walking freely to the nearby village. He actually viewed your common trips as a large help.

"I have seven emeralds in that chest over there, could you see if any of them are willing to trade for a mending book?" He asked well he looked up to you. His reading glasses resting on his nose. You smiled brightly and nodded.

"Of course!" Anything you could do to help you were down to do. L'amanburg wasn't aware Techno had a lover, mostly because Techno didn't want you getting pulled into his rather volient affairs. He viewed them as his battles. Not battles that you had to fight.

Well collecting the gems into your basket he spoke up again, his hand coming to the small of your back. "Take Carl ok? I can't have my princess walking like the peasants do" he said bemused. Pressing a gentle but loving kiss to your forhead.

You leaned into him, enjoying the physical affection he gave you. Techno wasn't one to voice his love Rather, instead he would gift you, or make physical actions twords showing you how much he cared.

You walked out and hopped onto Carl the sturdy, and loyal steed waiting for the new adventure he would be taking. Edging your heels into him you began to head for the forest.

After a while of riding through the woods you began to grow weary. You felt like you were being watched. You were not a Hybrid like Techno so you couldnt smell or hear any abnormalities. But you just knew somthing was off. It was a harsh mental debate on whether to turn around or continue. Ultimately you decided it was best to just turn around. For how on edge you were you figured that telling Techno, and him laughing at you was better than lingering outside anymore.

You pulled the reigins, signaling for Carl to turn, however when you did, someone had jumped onto Carl behind you. Grabbing you tightly to prevent your flailing. You couldnt help the blood curdling scream you let out before your mouth was covered by a hand. You were panicking. You couldnt see your attacker but very well felt them behind you.

"Im gonna make you a deal. Your going to take us back to that nice cottage of yours, or I'll paint your blood all over the snow" the voice sneered next to your ear. "Im going to remove my hand. If you so as utter a word I wont hesatate to get rid of you. Am I clear?" The voice was slow, but threatening. They meant what they said. You could only nod slowly as he removed his hand from your mouth. "In case you get a wild burst of courage... I'll just leave this here" he had taken his sword out. Lingering it by your neck. You didn't know what else to do, so you just took the reigins and slwoly started back home.

When you got to Technoblade's Cottage you were forced off of Carl, the snow did little in softening your fall. You looked up praying thag techno herd some commotion.

"Technoblade get your ass out here!" The man Yelled, you looked up to him. He had black hair poking out from his beanie. Underneath his armor was a bloody a apron. All, in all, not someone you wanted to be around.

When the door opened you called out for Techno. Trying to make a run for him. But instead you were only grabbed by your ankle and dragged back to the raven haired man. The sword he held finding it's way to your neck.

"Let her go Quackity." Techno's eyes were narrowed and calculated. He wasn't pleased by any means for how Quackity was manhandling you.

"You think I'm going to listen to you? Your fucking delusional. Heres whats going to happen Techno. Your going to come with us. Or I'll kill her and give your front lawn a nice new red decoration." You whimpered. All you wanted was Techno. You wanted to be in his arms, you didn't like how This 'Quackity' man was talking or handling you.

"Your going to let her go first." Techno stepped closer. His hand drawing his blade. You could see Techno's breathing. He was angry, and so were the voices.

"I wouldn't step any closer." The blade pressed in more. Your hand coming up to try and push the blade away. "Your going to drop your blade and walk up to fundy to get handcuffed. Then I'll let her go." You watched as Techno weighed his options. In the end he did drop his blade. He valued your life above everything. Once his hands were tied securely, you were let free. The first thing you did was run to techno. Hugging onto him for dear life.

"(Y/n) listen to me. Your going to go into the house and wait for Philza. Ok?" You looked up at him with pain in your eyes, shaking your head.

"No! Im not letting you go alone!" You started to tear. You didnt know where they were taking him. But you knew it wasn't good.

"(Y/n) I said go in the house. I will be fine.." He manuvered his head to wrap around yours since his arms couldn't. "I don't want you involved ok?..." his tone was gentle, trying to ease your haywire nerves.

"Techno please let me come.." Your eyes begged, but he didnt budge. Quackity only took and shoved Techno further.

"Wait in the House!" Was the final thing he said as he was forced over the Hill.

Waiting for his return had you beyond restless. You could only look from the clock back to the fire. The raging 'What if's running through your brain. It was extremely late before techno had returned back home.

When he opened the door you rushed over to him. Almost tripping over your own feet. To feel him in your arms was the one thing you needed to calm your nerves. You gripped onto him for dear life. His arms gently wrapped around you. Rubbing a ligjt circle into your back.

"Thank god your home" you said. Your face buried into his chest. The lingering sent of dynamite and the iron smell of blood on his clothes. "I was so worried about you..." you felt his hand move to the underside of your thighs. Lifting you up into his arms so he could move inside.

"Come now princess... You didnt really think I would let anything happen to myself, now would you?" He mused. His eyes soft as he looked up into yours.

"I.. I mean" You looked down at him, the bit of worry still remaining. He sat down on his sofa. Leaning back into it as he looked up at you.

"Baby girl, you know Technoblade never dies" He said cocking a eyebrow up as his face went smug. You only smiled a little at that. Moving to rest your head in his neck.

"I still worried..." you said gently. Relaxing into his chest. Glad to see him home safely.

"I know princess... I know" He knew he would have to tell you about the execution. But for now he knew you were distraught. He may have been poor at comforting, but he knew right now the best thing was for you to just lay in his arms at peace. Let you try and forget what Quackity had probably etched into your memory for months to come. Because Quackity was only the start now. Now everyone knew, Techno had someone he truly loved.

#dream smp #dreamsmp x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #mcyt x reader #minecraft #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x you #techno x reader #mcyt #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #technoblade #tb

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

Instead of freeing Nie Huaisang after the indoctrination camp Wen Chao keeps him and forces him to act as entertainment in an effort to humiliate the Nie's. Jokes on him though, as Nie Huaisang uses his new position to send coded messages.

In Here, With Me - ao3 (chapter 1/2)

- Untamed verse -

Left behind in the indoctrination camp when all the other sect heirs escaped, Nie Huaisang found himself in Wen Chao’s clutches, left to his amusement – and his amusement was to force Nie Huaisang to serve at his entertainment.

Are you telling me you’re a clown?!

“Rude, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang huffed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s note. “Very rude. I’m an entertainer.”

Although a rather large portion of his brand new entertain-the-troops routine was being laughed at, yes…

Damnit, da-ge! Leave a man some self-respect!

Sadly, there wasn’t enough space for him to get that sentence in along with the rest of the information he was sending back home, battle plans and supply lines and the rest. Just enough for a single additional sentence –

Sometimes the most dangerous place is the safest.

A little later, he got his brother’s response: Stop making sense. I hate it when you do that.

Nie Huaisang smiled.

“Can you stop shoving me around?” Nie Huaisang complained to Wen Chao after the first day of being the Wen sect’s punching bag. “You want me to entertain people, I can be entertaining! In ways other than slapstick!”

“Oh yeah?” Wen Chao sneered. “Like what?”

“I can tell stories,” Nie Huaisang said promptly. “I can paint. I compose poetry on the spot, including lewd poetry. I can do astronomy readings and calculate fortunes. I can juggle my saber. I can –”

“You can not.”

“Which one?”

“Juggle a saber!”

Nie Huaisang crossed his arms. “I can too! Or, well, da-ge always says that’s what I’m doing when I’m trying to train…”

Wen Chao sniggered. “Oh, this I’ve got to see. Someone get him a sword!”

“I can’t use a sword!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “Saber, saber! One side sharp only! If I tried it with a two-sided blade, I’d cut my arm off and then where would you be, huh? Without any entertainment, and no hostage, either!”

Wen Chao rolled his eyes. “Saber, then.”

Everyone looked at each other uncertainly – the saber wasn’t a common weapon for Qishan Wen.

“Just get me mine,” Nie Huaisang suggested. “What, are you all afraid I’ll fight my way out if I have my own spiritual weapon with me? Me?”

They were not afraid of him.

Nie Huaisang gripped his proper Nie saber that was warm under his fingers, with the clean blade that (currently) showed no sign of words, and smiled.

The Jiang sect won’t listen to my warnings.

Nie Huaisang gritted his teeth and stared at his saber. You’re joking, he wrote on the blade with his finger and a bit of qi. I warned you a whole week ago. We’re attacking tomorrow! With overwhelming forces!

I’m trying my best! I can only smuggle so many cultivators nearby without permission. What am I supposed to do, write off the whole place as a loss and just kidnap all their disciples to keep them from getting murdered?

Why not? If that’s all you can do, at least it’s something.

“The wine that’s going to the main table is on the bottom left,” Nie Huaisang said when he found Wen Ning standing there.

Wen Ning jumped. “Oh! Nie-gongzi…”

“You’re here to rescue Jiang Cheng, right? And you’re going to drug the wine? Bottom left.”

“…thanks.” Wen Ning hesitated. “Do you need a rescue, too?”

“Oh, no, I’m good. Tell Jiang Cheng that I’m sorry I couldn’t help more, and next time he should listen when my brother says to run away. He doesn’t say it often, so when he does, he means it.”

Wen Ning hesitated still.

“What?”

“Did you really break Wen Zhuliu’s hand before he could melt Jiang Cheng’s core?”

“It was,” Nie Huaisang said with great dignity, “an accident.”

“Listen, I get you,” Nie Huaisang said to a confused-looking Wei Wuxian. “Revenge is nice, rescue is sweet. But I need you to let Wen Chao get close enough to the Nightless City that me making my way there as the terrified last surviving witness is at least plausible, or we lose our best in to get info from the Wen sect. So just, you know, wait a bit longer, okay?”

“Meng Yao!” Nie Huaisang hollered, throwing himself into Meng Yao’s arms. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again!”

“Uh,” Meng Yao said.

Wen Ruohan laughed.

Nie Huaisang burst into tears and buried his face into Meng Yao’s neck.

Wen Ruohan laughed harder.

Meng Yao smiled awkwardly, but that was probably the fact that Nie Huaisang had already sealed his spiritual energy and had a knife to his belly.

“You’d better be here as a spy,” Nie Huaisang whispered in his ear as the Wen sect ignored them.

“Definitely,” Meng Yao murmured back, though his tone wasn’t as definitive as Nie Huaisang would prefer. “I need Wen Ruohan’s head to get my father’s approval.”

“Does my brother know?”

“…no.”

“Who does?”

“Huaisang –”

“I have my own ways of passing information. Well?”

“…Sect Leader Lan.”

“I look forward to finding out if he confirms it,” Nie Huaisang said, patting Meng Yao on the cheek, and then blubberingly begs his way into sharing a room with the man. He’s gotten pretty good at getting Wen Ruohan to agree to these sorts of silly requests – the man had just the same awful sense of humor as his son.

“I can’t believe you survived this long as the Nie sect’s spy,” Meng Yao marveled when it was all done.

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “I’ll give you lessons,” he offered with a grin. “If you like. It’s my one skill, apparently!”

“The war is over,” Meng Yao pointed out in return, shaking his head and smiling. “My father has accepted me back into the Jin sect and given me a new name. What use do I have for the skills of spy?”

“Of being a Nie sect spy,” Nie Huaisang corrected, and put his hand on Meng Yao’s shoulder. “If things don’t go well for you in the Jin sect…Think about it, will you? If da-ge won’t accept you, then I will.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #meng yao #my fic #my fics #in here with me

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delimeful · 3 years ago

Text

nothing in this world (i wouldn’t do) (2)

warnings: mild blood/violence/injury, demon slaying, miscommunication, impromptu first aid, mentions of spiders, virgil tempting fate with his internal dialogue again

Whenever Virgil wasn’t sleeping, he was on the move.

At first, it had been because he didn’t trust himself around towns for too long, and there was always the chance of a real demon slayer getting wind of that ridiculous rumor and trying to track him down and kill him for it, even though it totally wasn’t his fault.

But then, as time went on, his bizarre pseudo-popularity seemed to have a different side effect.

Namely, every time he managed to save another human and hauled them back to the nearest town, he’d be practically swarmed. Antsy townsfolk would hurriedly inform him of the horrible tragedy they’d heard about up north, or the mysterious disappearances by the woods between this town and the neighboring one, or any sort of rumor that they thought a “demon slayer” should know about.

Where exactly were all the real demon slayers when people needed them? Why was he, an actual demon, seemingly more accessible for seeking help?!

Still, he wasn’t exactly doing anything else with his life (his unlife?), and if there were less demons, that meant the world would be safer for Thomas, didn’t it? So off he went, taking the less-traveled paths and following vague leads right into more danger.

His latest case had been a requested one, from a weaver in the last town. She had received a letter from her brother saying that he planned to come visit, and weeks later, he still hadn’t appeared or replied to her many return messages. The worry seemed to weigh her down like a physical burden, and he’d agreed perhaps more easily than normal.

Now, he was wedged into a shallow crevice in the mountainside and sorely regretting that decision.

The issue wasn’t the demon, no. He’d actually been making good progress on getting deeper and deeper into its territory in the past few days.

The issue was that he wasn’t the only one hunting it.

First, it had been a gaggle of young teens, and he’d been so alarmed that he’d almost dropped right out of the trees and ushered them back out of the woods. The less humans traipsing around this deep in demon territory, the better.

Of course, that was when he’d managed to spot the swords strapped to their sides, and suddenly, never appearing before a human again was looking more and more appealing. He’d immediately switched gears from tracking to stealth, and honestly, should have just turned tail and left then.

Instead, because those kids were around Thomas’s age and he still needed to find that weaver’s brother and also he was a sentimental idiot, he trailed them at a distance, always staying downwind and poised to bolt.

They handled themselves well at the beginning, and then the environment began to warp around them, and then it turned out there was more than one demon nesting here, and Virgil had been on the brink of jumping down and interfering, swords or no swords, when--

Between one blink and the next, one of the demons was cleanly beheaded.

The demon slayer-- for what else could he be-- smiled brilliantly as the body disintegrated to ash, holding a hand out to help one of the teens to their feet.

“It seemed like you all could use a little assistance,” he’d said, turning to face one of the other demons with a confidence that visibly unsettled it. Above, a circling crow cried out raspily. “My dear Missus informed me of your call for backup.”

If the stranger’s swift execution hadn’t tipped Virgil off, the way the baby slayers looked up at him with blatant awe was clue enough. This slayer was powerful and charismatic, whereas Virgil was neither of those things, so he was going to stay right here in his crevice until the whole situation had sorted itself out.

The three other demons seemed to have no such qualms, lunging at him in a semi-coordinated attack. The slayer handled them with terrifying ease, and for a moment it seemed that the battle had been settled, as simple as that.

Of course, that was when the landscape twisted further in on itself, buzzing like a disturbed wasps nest, and Virgil realized abruptly that this was the first time he’d seen so many feral, newly-created demons in one territory.

A stronger demon was keeping them all in line, like the queen of a hive. And it wasn’t at all pleased about the intrusion.

The slayer seemed to have caught on as well, his sword held aloft in threat. “Looks like the real fight starts now,” he said with a sharp, cocky grin.

Mere minutes later, the smile had grown considerably more strained.

Coincidentally, he’d taken considerably more damage in that time as well.

The slayer had given as good as he got, but against a demon’s healing factor, it wasn’t good enough. He was losing.

“Get out of here!” he instructed, and the baby slayers hesitated, clearly torn. He shot them a dazzling grin, hiding all signs of fatigue even as another blow rattled his sword. “Come now, don’t you know an order when you hear one? I don’t want any distractions while I handle this gruesome ghoul, so back to town with you!”

He cut off any further arguments by pointedly leading his attacker astray, giving them ample time to flee. Virgil felt some of the tension fade from him as the baby slayers got away cleanly, leaving just the slayer and the queen.

Really, he shouldn’t want the slayer to survive. Not when having a slayer that strong anywhere near him, or even in the same country as him, could easily be a death sentence. That didn’t change the jolt of panic that went through him when the queen finally gained the upper hand, knocking the slayer back into sheer cliff face hard enough to snap something.

… A slayer that protected others from demons so wholeheartedly was one that would protect Thomas.

The queen advanced towards the slayer, wounded and weakened but already gloating about how his flesh would be more than enough to completely rejuvenate her. Her entire focus was on the human’s fallen form.

Virgil dropped down on top of her soundlessly, claws piercing through muscle and fat until he’d torn her nearly clear in half. She shrieked in outrage, but a skull-crushing stomp was enough to knock her unconscious for at least a few moments.

The slayer, exhausted, half-crumpled against a tree, and his shoulder very clearly dislocated, looked up at him for a moment with something like hope.

When they met eyes, however, that was swiftly extinguished in favor of wary frustration.

“Another demon?” he complained, trying rather unsubtly to grasp for the sword that the queen had knocked free of him. “Exactly how many monsters can one fit on a single mountain?”

The sword was entirely out of reach, but Virgil kicked it a little further away for good measure. The slayer shot him a petulant glare.

Virgil pointed at a scrap of bloodied cloth left behind from one of the baby slayers, trying out a questioning rumble. Backup coming for you?

“I’m offended that you think I would answer that,” the slayer responded, nose upturned, “or any other monosyllabic interrogative questions, for that matter.”

Virgil growled low in his throat, frustration bubbling up. If he ditched the slayer here without backup, there was no guarantee that someone would find him before the morning came, and Virgil was relatively sure that the demon he’d just stabbed through wasn’t the only threat up here.

Not to mention the cold. He hadn’t thought the nights were cold enough to harm people yet, but demons seemed a lot more durable, and the slayer was shaking just slightly. He remembered the few times he’d had to sit out snowstorms while traveling back home up the mountain, and couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

So, leaving the slayer behind to fend for himself wasn’t an option. That meant doing something insanely, dangerously stupid: taking the guy with him.

Precautions first, then. He was pretty good at hiding himself from other demons by now, but human scents were a lot more trackable.

Virgil scooped the slayer sword up off the ground by the hilt, grimacing at the burning sensation it emitted. The slayer’s jaw dropped.

“Hey! You can’t just take that!” he cried indignantly, starting off on a tirade about craftsmanship and integrity. His rant cut off sharply as Virgil raised the sword and brought it down on the queen’s neck.

His motions were stilted compared to anyone who actually knew how to use a sword, but it hardly mattered. The sun-blade cut through easily, decapitating her in one motion and leaving only ash behind. He took a moment to hope for the soul of whoever she’d been before being turned, and a longer moment for the weaver’s brother, who was surely dead. Exhaling lowly, he planted the sword blade-first in the dirt.

It was tempting to keep it; he’d certainly wished more than once for an easier way to deal with his adversaries than the bloody scraps he normally got in, but there was no way he was bringing a demon slayer and a demon killing sword with him. That was just asking for trouble.

“That demon did all the work in an honest fight against me, and yet it’s the backstabber turning against his own kind who actually gets to eat me? That’s sad, even for a demon,” the slayer bit out, still trying to inch his way back up into a standing position.

Virgil ignored his muttering and took a testing breath in through his mouth. The slayer was definitely bloodied, but most of the major injuries mustn’t have broken skin, because the smell wasn’t too bad. It probably helped that he’d managed to avoid being injured in this fight, and so didn’t have a desperate need to heal like normal. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t even need a nap to make up for it.

He reached out for the slayer’s collar, already mentally plotting out the most efficient way to a distant abandoned bear den when a piercing shriek sounded, and his vision was suddenly full of flapping feathers. He staggered a few steps back with a surprised yelp.

“No! Missus Fluffybottom, you beautiful fool!” the slayer cried out, sounding incredibly distraught.

Virgil swatted outwards and managed to catch his furious assailant on the second try, his hand easily big enough to grasp it. He drew it away from his face for inspection, and realized that the screaming and wriggling bundle of fluff was actually a young crow.

“Scourge! Fiend!” the crow yelled at him in a belligerent tone that was uncannily similar to the slayer’s. He blinked down at it, befuddled.

“Wait! Don’t hurt her,” the slayer said in the most subdued voice Virgil had heard from him all evening. He looked up and found that the slayer had managed to climb to his knees, but wasn’t struggling to move further. “She’s a simple bird, no threat to you. You’ve already got your prize, haven’t you?”

There was something uncomfortably desperate in his gaze, and Virgil realized with a start that the slayer absolutely believed he was about to kill his bird in cold blood. He opened his hand, bracing for another assault, but the crow kicked off and flew right to the slayer instead, nestling against his collarbone. “Roman, Roman, Ro-man!” it crooned.

“Get out of here, you finicky little fowl, go! Shoo!” the slayer-- Roman?-- commanded, to no avail. He glanced up at Virgil, lifting his good hand and turning his bad shoulder slightly as though to shield the little creature.

Virgil averted his eyes from the bird, hopefully conveying how much he didn’t care about her. If he had enough self control to not murder-kill people despite it being all monsters like him wanted to do, he wasn’t going to snap because a bird the size of his palm repeated some swears in his direction.

Back to business. He grabbed the back of the slayer’s outfit and pulled, hauling him up onto one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. … Or like a sack of other, non-food items. Virgil sighed through his nose. Whatever.

Roman sucked a breath in through his teeth as his injuries were jostled, and then immediately started squawking in protest upon realizing the indignity of his position. The crow-- apparently dubbed Fluffybottom-- repositioned herself to a perch on Roman’s calf and joined in on the complaints with her own raspy calls.

Virgil ignored them, already focusing on the trek ahead.

---

By the time they reached the cave, Roman had long stopped muttering creative obscenities under his breath.

The slayer might have actually fallen unconscious, but Virgil wasn’t going to jostle him around just to check. If he stopped focusing on their surroundings, he could easily hear Roman’s heart beating, the blood pumping beneath his skin, tantalizingly out of reach--

… He had mostly focused very hard on their surroundings. The point was, the slayer was definitely still alive, which meant him passing out during their travel was fine. Convenient, even.

It certainly made it easier to squat and carefully lower his body onto the cave floor without worrying about any sudden thrashing on Roman’s part. Laying flat on his back with only the slightest crumple to his brow, the guy looked a lot less intimidating. He was probably Virgil’s age, honestly.

He also looked unsettlingly corpse-like at the moment. Virgil considered for a moment, and then sidled over to Roman’s side, tugging his injured arm out of the curled up position it had taken. He carefully maneuvered it until it was straight out, forming a right angle with Roman’s side.

Then, he pulled, applying a slow, steady pressure. The misaligned bone shifted back into place with a sickening clunk, and Roman cried out as he regained consciousness. Virgil released him, and he instantly cradled the limb to his chest.

“What in the name of--,” he started, and then seemed to remember it all at once. Or the wave of pain from all those other injuries hit him all at once. One of the two.

Either way, he sagged back against the ground, squinting at Virgil suspiciously as he bustled around the small space. Missus Fluffybottom landed on his forehead, making him look even more ridiculous.

“I notice I am not devoured,” he finally spoke, almost conversational.

Virgil ignored him in favor of moving to arrange some firewood near the mouth of the cave.

“Not even a teensy bit,” Roman continued, making a show of inspecting himself for missing flesh.

Virgil continued to stack rocks around the wood. He was beginning to regret waking the slayer up, dislocated shoulder or not.

“Now, my silent saboteur, I want you to be honest. Are you planning to turn me into some sort of spider?” the slayer asked, and that was enough to finally make Virgil turn with an incredulous raised eyebrow.

“What?” Roman defended, pinkening. “That’s a real thing that a demon did to some people! And you seem... spider-y.”

Virgil scowled at the insulting way the comment was phrased. Spiders were cool and helpful and oh yeah, they didn’t annoyingly needle him while he was busy keeping them alive. He abandoned the fire to stalk closer and drop to a squat by Roman’s legs, dodging a wild kick easily. He pointedly tore a long swath of white fabric from the slayer’s overlayer.

“Hey! Do you even know how long embroidery like that takes--,” Roman cried, and Virgil smacked a hand over his mouth, drawing close and hissing quietly. The sound was close enough to a shush to get his point across, going by the way the slayer huffed indignantly but didn’t speak when Virgil pulled his hand away.

He did whine in protest when Virgil grabbed his injured arm, but then he went still and silent, like he thought any sudden movements would end with the whole limb removed. Virgil wrapped his forearm in the fabric, and then looped the extra around his shoulder, maneuvering him as painlessly as possible, and tied it off.

Roman’s silence suddenly felt distinctly different.

Virgil pulled him up into a sitting position by the front of his shirt, and tightened the knot slightly. The sling looked just about as good as could be expected, given the circumstances.

“You are actually a demon, aren’t you?”

Speech was one of those human things that Virgil still hadn’t recovered, but he thought that the sarcastic fang-bearing smile he directed at Roman spoke volumes all on its own.

“Then why are you tenderly nursing a demon slayer back to health?” he retorted, sounding bewildered and incredulous in equal measures.

Why are you pushing your luck? Virgil thought back, clicking his teeth in irritation and shoving the slayer back into a prone position.

Roman let out a high pitched wheeze, his good arm coming to cradle his ribs defensively. “Or not-so-tenderly, I suppose. The question stands!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and returned to the half-built fire. He’d pestered the only doctor in town for first aid lessons for months, he wasn’t going to stop practicing medicine just because of a little thing like being turned into a demon that craved human flesh.

To his surprise, the silence lingered as he worked, long enough that he turned and cast a suspicious glare over his shoulder at the slayer, who jolted nervously at his attention.

“Wh-what?” he asked, fiddling with the torn edges of his sling. “No escape attempts here, haha!”

“...” Virgil squinted at him and his blatant fake laugh for a long moment, trying to figure out just what was wrong with the scene.

Wait. Where was the bird?

A chill ran down his spine, and he twisted to stare at the mountainside beyond the cave entrance. No raspy-voiced baby crows in sight.

It had to have gone for help, knowing exactly where Virgil and its slayer had holed up. Roman knew he’d realized it, was watching him with the wary expectancy of a cornered hare in front of a trapper.

A surge of furious panic did bubble up in the back of Virgil’s mind, but he quelled it with relative ease.

If backup was coming, then the human was no longer his problem.

Pleased at the neat way the situation had resolved itself, Virgil tapped two fingers to his temple in a gesture of farewell and scrambled out the cave, scaling the cliff face and resolving to put as much distance between himself and this region as possible.

With any luck, he’d never run into that particular slayer again.

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides #ts virgil #demon slayer au #nitwiwd #nothing in this world i wouldnt do #my writing #writing #bthb #ts roman #kny fusion #am i forgetting tags?#im really fond of this one #i hope you guys like it :)

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slasherbaby · 3 years ago

Text

Frank Morrison Kinky Alphabet!

Super NSFT! Read under the cut ♡

𝓐 is for After-Care

‣ If he’s subbing, Frank’ll act like he doesn’t need after-care. He’ll probably snap at whoever suggests it, baring his teeth like something feral. What he needs is for his anger to be ignored- force him into cuddling, make him drink water, kiss him and tell him he’s a good boy. He’ll fight it at first, but it won’t take long for him to completely melt. If he doesn’t get after-care, he won’t say anything out right, but he’ll feel like shit.

𝓑 is for Bruises

‣ If he’s in a relationship, he’ll wear the bruises he gets like badges of honor. If he’s just hooking up and someone starts to mark his neck, he’ll growl at them to not leave any marks. Not because he cares in particular, it’s more of a way to keep some type of control. Whether or not he’s actually with someone, though, he loves to leave bruises. Especially if he’s roughly sucking love bites into their neck or shoulders.

𝓒 is for Choking

‣ If you ask him to, he’ll choke you. He loves the power rush it gives him, how you’re completely willing to trust and surrender to him- not just your body, but your life as well. He nearly loves it as much as he loves being choked. Partially because of his self-destructive nature, but also because of the lack of control, and the relief that comes with getting it taken away from him. Either way, he’s down.

𝓓 is for Dirty Talk

‣ Frank’s less focused on having a way with words and more focused on having a way with his tongue, if you know what I mean. He swears like a sailor, though, and it only gets enhanced in the bedroom.

𝓔 is for Eating Out

‣ Put this man on his knees, his happy place is between someone’s legs. Just don’t expect to come away without bite marks and bruises on your thighs, cause you’re gonna get them. If you wanna eat him out? He’ll 100% let you, but he’ll definitely be surprised about it. He’s not used to his partners wanting to take care of him, so if you do, just be prepared for him to come in a literal second.

𝓖 is for Gagging

‣ He wouldn’t like being gagged, or being forced to be quiet in general. It’s different if it’s him and his partner being sneaky, where they both have to stifle themselves so they don’t get caught fucking in a place they shouldn’t be. But if it’s just him? No thanks.

𝓗 is for Hair-Pulling

‣ Pulling hair is okay with him, if it’s something his partner is into. If it’s just a hookup, he’ll get snippy if someone tries to pull at his hair. Instead of giving in and letting it happen, it’s the fastest way for him to start a battle for dominance.

𝓚 is for Knife Play

‣ Yes with a capital Y! Whether it’s you using the blade on him, or him using it on you, he loves knife play. One of his favorite things is to ride his partner nice and slow, but still be completely in control. How, you might ask? With his knife up to their throat, of course. Not hard enough to draw blood, just enough to be a warning. If they try to grab his hips and make him move faster, they might even get a little cut as a warning to behave.

𝓛 is for Lingerie

‣ If you wanna get all dressed up for him, that’s cool. He might make a few comments, but don’t expect much of a reaction. It’s not that he’s unappreciative, he just loves your body. That’s not gonna change much just cause you threw on some lace. Frank dressing in lingerie, however, is a completely different story. If you bring it up first, he’ll act super hesitant about it, maybe even throwing an insult or two your way, mocking you for thinking he’d be into it. But eventually he’ll ‘come around’ and agree to it, despite secretly wanting to all along. He’ll get all dolled up for you, most likely wearing it under his regular clothes like a secret, and waiting until you guys are alone before casually showing off his lace panties. If you laugh at him, or don’t have as big of a reaction as he hoped, it’ll be the last time he wears it for you. Frank’s looking for validation that you want him, he wants you to be pleased just by looking at how pretty he made himself for you. Bonus points if you shove him up against a wall and beg to have him right then and there.

𝓜 is for Masks

‣ Oh buddy, you got a mask kink? He’ll fulfill it, no problem. If you also wanna wear a mask? Even better.

𝓝 is for Neko

‣ If you come to him dressed up with little cat ears and a tail, he’ll definitely have a bit of a laugh. He’s not into it, but he is into seeing you act all submissive, so he might just give it a go. If you ask him to dress up like that, he’ll get super flustered. You just might be able to wrangle him into wearing it, but don’t expect him to be super thrilled about it.

𝓟 is for Phone-Sex

‣ He wouldn’t be into it, especially when he could just go over and see you in person.

𝓠 is for Quickie

‣ Most of the sex that Frank’s had has been quickies, so he’s not a ‘I need a bed for sex’ type of guy. Wherever works for him, especially if it's fast and dirty and leaves him limping afterwards.

𝓢 is for Switching

‣ Frank is the biggest switch in the world, but he also has a tiny bit of a preference for bottoming, though it would take him a lot to admit it. Expect him to push you down and ride you until you see stars. He won’t relent until he gets what he wants- you coming so deep inside him he’ll feel it for days. If not that’s not something you’ve talked about doing with him before, he won’t ask for it outright. But if you bring up fucking him, or if you bring up wanting to use a strap on him, he’ll immediately jump at the chance.

𝓣 is for Toys

‣ Besides a vibe, Frank doesn’t have any toys he’d use on a partner. The vibe is little and discreet, something that he can have at his disposal whenever and wherever he wants to fuck his partner. If he can’t make someone come without some help, he has no shame in bringing it out and pressing it up against the person he’s fucking.

𝓥 is for Voyeur

‣ Frank’s more exhibitionistic than voyeuristic. If he’s only allowed to watch, he’ll just get impatient and bratty.

𝓧 is for X-Frame

‣ While sex furniture sounds like it could be fun, Frank doesn’t have a place where he could store it. If tying/being typed up is his partner’s shtick, he’s more than happy to oblige. Just with less ‘proper’ means of doing it.

𝓨 is for Yes Sir

‣ Being called by titles/names in bed isn’t his thing. Especially not ‘daddy’ stuff. If you ask him, he’ll probably just get defensive and make fun of you for asking. Alternatively, Frank loves being complimented. Call him a good boy and you’ll get to see him melt. It’ll spur him on if you tell him how amazing he feels, or how good he’s doing for you.

𝓩 is for Zelophilia

‣ Don’t make him jealous, it will just end up with him feeling like shit and getting angry. If someone flirts with you in front of him, he might even try to throw hands with them. But if you flirt with someone else, he’ll just get angry and insecure before storming out.

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