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ms0milk · 9 months ago

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by any other name

sanemi x reincarnated!oc

Sanemi doesn't have the strength to lock himself away from this new Flower Hashira and even finds himself fighting to stay near her. Will he be strong enough to stay so close when her secret is revealed? cw heavily suggestive MDNI, marking, humping, grinding, breast-play, mentions of bodily fluids, ever so slightly submissive nems, 3.5k

thank you for your patience @sanemisbitch you were such a trooper waiting for this @ficsforgaza piece to be published and I'm so grateful! thank you for this request and thank you too for trusting me with your lovely oc Leo. What a total joy to work with :) you have her character so well flushed out, i do hope you enjoy.

Sanemi paces patina into the hardwood floors of the butterfly mansion. It was a mission gone wrong– gone exactly how they always go. Friends cut down, in the hospital, buried shallow somewhere. Even in her own house, Kocho doesn’t bother visiting the sickbay when the Flower Hashira’s under care. She never got over the promotion. When the girl's sunflax hair shone beside Ubuyashiki, when flower floated off his tongue, Kocho, Shinobu, tore up grass in her prostration.

Sanemi’s holdups aren’t so sensitive. When Aoi pops her choppy bangs out of the room he kicks the door in on her.

“Hey!” She bites and swings it shut again. Aoi’s not sensitive either. She might fight a war for Leo. She might fight the Hashira that dares to disturb her friend, but in the bed at the corner of the room, Leo swells at the sight of Sanemi. Her left arm is bandaged and three stitches march in a row out of her hairline, and other than a few punctures nothing remains of the bloody mask she wore when kakushi carried her here.

She smiles big, “Baum,” and reaches out both hands to hold him.

“Baum my ass!” Sanemi swats her fingers down like a naughty child and reels back up again for a good lecture. She thought she’d found it. An in to Muzan’s life, one of the houses he uses for cover, maybe the one with his laboratory– and whether or not she was right stopped being important the second the quiet farmhouse exploded in clouds and gas and needles of poison. Some kind of pined-demon, horrible like a hedgehog, took out most of her team in the dark. Seven crows were sent for reinforcements and five were found dead on the trail after Sanemi was dispatched to cover a kakushi retreat. She’d been carried past him limp and bloody on the back of a soldier. “What were you thinking!”

“thinking that I’m happy to see you.”

“Bullshit,” Sanemi hisses. He raises his finger, “You were selfish.”

“Not true.”

“You were–”

“Baum,” Leo tilts her spot-bandaged head. Her round cheeks catch sunlight like apples. “I was just Hashira. I think like Hashira, you would have done the same and now I get to see you and tell you all about it.”

“It was dusk.”

“It was a Hinoe raid. It’s the best the corps had and before I mourn them I’d like to hold my friend.”

She is so much like her. So much it’s terrifying and suddenly Sanemi wishes he were in Shinobu’s office warming a dish of sake and ignoring bloody flowers.

“Watch your mouth Shinazugawa.”

“Aoi, can I speak to the grump alone please?” Sanemi continues to ignore Aoi’s hatred but he notes when the door clicks closed behind her so he can flop down in a chair. “Baumkuchen,” Leo coos again, “are you okay?”

“Fucking furious.”

She sinks slightly into the pillow propping her up and shifts her carefree smile into something slightly sterner. “I’m sorry,” comes out clearly, “did you have friends in the Hinoe team? I lead them to their death.” Her gentle fingers pinch each other where she tucks them in her lap. The threads of her blanket pucker.

What’s he gonna do with her? How could a general apologize for her soldiers before apologizing for herself? “Not the problem,” he says. The corps dies, that’s what it’s for. Hashira die, that’s the job description, that’s his destiny, it’s your future, that’s the problem.

“Doesn’t help, I’m sure.”

“Nothing helps,” he sighs.

“I’m glad it was you.” Sanemi turns his head towards her and the window that frames her bed like a wince. “I’m happy you’re here, I’m glad the crow found you.”

“I was nearby,” his heart aches, “you got lucky.”

In the interim still Leo slips her hand into his and he doesn’t, he never, pulls away. She calls him Baum again, Baumkuchen, her favorite dessert and asks him about his injuries which were mostly self-inflicted. Asks after his crow, damage to his sword, if he’s eaten. She smiles the same, she pouts the same, she smells the same– lilies of the valley– why does he torture himself like this? Why hasn’t he locked himself away from her?

Leo tucks a sheaf of blonde behind her ear while clucking about whatever kindnesses the butterfly staff have shown her this morning. He shouldn’t even be here, he doesn’t need to be. She reaches forward with her soft pink hand and he flinches, “Baum?” but he’s been staring too long to pretend not to care. “Can you,” she falters at his surprise and points to the table between them, just out of her bandaged reach, “my hairclip?”

That rotten thing. Sanemi kicks himself. The pink paper butterfly she showed up with after final selection two years ago. Good luck charm. She couldn’t have known what it meant or who she was trying to replace. “We match!” she’d exclaimed, more at Shinobu than in conversation with her after that first Hashira meeting. But the insect pillar’s mean-nothing smile had curdled just slightly and Leo withered. Everyone did, even Tengen slipped quietly from the manor.

Sanemi presses the delicate wings into Leo’s hand and watches the eerie movements of a ghost as she perches the insect between her lips. Four fingers drawing the wisps away from her face and everything– every breath, every movement just like– “Sanemi.” She must be finished. He lifts his head and considers simply leaving the room when he realizes how she is watching. Leo and her horrible clip paint a pretty silhouette in sunlight. She nestles her hands in the place her blanket dips between her thighs and always she has that miserable, wonderful smile holding up the corners of her lips.

So many times, so many conversations and missions, all lined with her silent pleading. She is always on the precipice of saying something, and that is uniquely her own.

“Why do you always look away?” She concedes– obviously not what she wanted to ask– before he realizes he’s not only staring but also leaning ever so slightly closer to her sick bed. Sanemi stands up to leave.

“Baum.”

“Rest up, pincushion.”

“Sanemi.”

He waves her words away without turning from the door like trying to clear a horrible smell.

“The Hinoe, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t care,” he tries to yawn or embody any iteration of unbother and pulls the door open to free himself. Maybe Aoi will be waiting outside, maybe his crow has come to announce another mission. Kanroji is certainly already on the road here to preen over her friend and if he leaves now he could easily avoid her, but Leo’s sickbed betrays her movement behind him and before he can turn to scold her for rising, she’s already started to speak.

“Hirotaka,” she grunts with the exertion of swinging her legs over the lip of the mattress, “Yorochi.”

The recital was startling enough for Sanemi without her hauling out of bed and breaking her neck. Tens, hundreds of tiny pinprick scabs freckle the clear milk of her skin as she faces him down with all the gentle strength of the woman who came before her. “Alright,” he submits, turning back to face her, to shoo her down.

“Fusaharu,” she continues with her blanket pulled aside. There were only three Hinoe swordsmen on the mission but names continue to pour off Leo’s tongue, “Naohiro, Iori, Hikoto.” All her sweet demeanor hardens. There was once a Hashira who remembered every name of every soldier that ever fell. “Yoshishige.” As Leo continues, the blood falls from Sanemi’s face. Something stirs. His eyes go wide. “Kumeno.”

The doorknob snaps off in his hand and the pillar is suddenly across the room, against her, up in the face of the person pretending to be her. “How do you know that name?” He demands. He bunches the front of Leo’s robes in a fist and she is serene. It’s the first name of the friend who died instead of him four years ago against that Lower-Rank One. “You can’t know that name,” he growls. He clenches his fist tighter at her chest.

“I know them all,” she murmurs. She is close enough to smell and it comes back to him in waves. Plum, Peony, Hanaguromo, the forms of her Flower Breath overwhelm him when she speaks so close, pulled so close by him. Leo cups his fist with her two hands, “How could you say you don’t care?”

He’s not truly listening because something has finally started to churn behind his eyes like the sea, something his mother used to say. Good boys leave with the Buddha. Good boys are reborn as princes and kings, so work hard in this life. Sanemi shakes his arm and her with it but he is alight with something other than anger and shudders more than he means to.

Leo pauses, sweetness returning, “Bau–?”

“Kanae?” His voice cracks.

It’s impossible. He knows it’s not real and that he’s just set his reputation of sanity up in flames but all the gods on their thrones can’t be allowed to torture him with impunity. He’ll question them, he’ll pull them off their lotuses. Immediately, Leo’s eyes shine with tears.

He shakes his head, she cups it. He should be angry for this dirty trick and he should throw a punch. His fingers tremble where they land on her round cheeks. “Kanae?” He tries again even weaker this time. Leo nods wildly and the tears are racing off of her lashes and over his thumbs. “It’s not funny,” he barely manages. There is a lump and he can’t keep it from fighting its way up his throat.

“I wouldn’t,” she breathes before he loses all control of himself and leans down to kiss her.

He thought this might be what heaven looked like on the day he finally lost a fight. He imagined his siblings gathered under a tree as he crept up behind them on some obnoxiously nice summer’s day. He always imagined Kanae with them. She would be reading in a pretty purple yukata like Aoi had always described and she’d see him before any of his family did. He’d cry, she’d smile, his brother would notice the lull in her reading and turn around to ruin the surprise. Paradise was big enough. His friends, his family, the love of his life, he’d never have to raise a sword again.

Leo’s lips against his, he’s always imagined this. The florals of Kanae’s hair, he’s kept the taste of it safe for long in his memory he worried it might slip out and so he pulls away. When Sanemi takes a step back he falls to the floor. “Nem!” Leo winces and follows him right down. She tucks off of her bed and slumps on the ground in front of where he landed with his hands splay bracing behind him.

“Why– didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t,” she attempts to explain and her butterfly clip comes loose in that sunsilk hair. Leo’s left arm bandages are tight enough but if she keeps making that ridiculous expression her stitches are going to pop, “I still can’t it’s– a curse! I wanted to tell you Sanemi, I gave up telling–”

“It’s not real.” There are tears in Sanemi’s eyes now too. It can’t be. His lips still taste like lilies and Leo’s concern floods her big bug eyes just like Kanae’s once did. What would Kocho think? He pushes himself to a proper sit. “Who are you?”

“Leo,” she whispers as his tears start to fall. She crawls slightly forward on her knees, still lacking strength from last night’s poison. She is taller than Kanae was and just as kind. She’s just as stern and deceptive in her gentleness and Sanemi misses her, so, so much. “You know me,” Leo says as she reaches for him. He doesn’t stop her. She takes up his hand and lifts it to her chest on her knees above him. She presses it deep against her heart. “Please know me.”

He does. He shouldn’t.

Sanemi lets her hold his hand in the swell of her breast and doesn’t flinch when she rests her other palm against his wet cheek. He caught a branch to the face last night and a little girl named Sumi insisted he crouch down so she could bandage it this morning. Leo thumbs the dot of cloth as his tears soak through the fabric. She kisses him.

It can be true for however long it takes Sanemi to finally hold the world in his arms. Leo fingers twitter through his sleepless hair and drag against his scalp. He can hardly stay upright, can hardly do anything but let her lips pull him closer. On the floor, his hands fall from her chest and fumble up her thighs from where she hovers above him. How long has she wanted this? Sanemi’s breath catches when Leo slips her tongue across his teeth and places a hand on his chest. His heartbeat is a window to his soul and it tries as hard as it can now on the floor of a hospital room, to rip itself from its chest and settle between Leo’s fingers. She sings to it. She pulls away.

“Baum?” He hardly hears her and chases the space between their lips, “Sanemi,” she tries again. His eyes are heavy in the sunlight that frames her. His hold on her thighs becomes hungry.

“Again,” he murmurs to the beat of the pulse on his lips.

“Sanemi.” The voice of his second love drips through his ears and she lowers her face back to his so that he might breathe her in again.

“Please.”

“Shinazugawa Sanemi.”

When she kisses him this time she does not cry. Leo’s butterfly is long discarded and on the floor beside her bed, her white robe pools at her knees. She braces herself against Sanemi’s chest, in his hair and across his shoulders on her knees in the dust and wood. Her tongue leads his into a game of devour and suddenly her hips have slotted quietly against his as she straddles his lap. Suddenly a kiss is not enough. How long has he wanted her? Gentle general.

Leo’s lips trail farther, deeper into the nooks and notches of Sanemi’s jaw and he has to hold her to keep from falling back. His fingertips trace an uncertain line up her spine. Hers cradle his face and match pulse with the heartbeat in his ribcage. Leo’s tongue is hot on clammy parts of him and draws a sharp breath when Sanemi bucks into her at a soft angle. He growls just slightly in embarrassment.

How? He wants to ask, all this time, “How–”

“Don’t.” Leo whispers, “I can’t. Know me, understand by holding me.” And whether or not it’s true there’s nothing he wants to do more. She is new, she is not Kanae, she is not the woman Sanemi loved, but she is loved by him. How many people exist inside of her? Her. Who was…who were they before Kanae slipped inside? What makes up this person he loves so?

Leo begins to lose control of that perfect temper and her breath comes more harshly than a Hashira’s should. Sanemi’s thighs vibrate with the weight of her, lighter than air and warmer than anything he could have ever imagined. They find a rhythm and once knees dig into waists and hips warm hips neither of them remember how to properly fill their lungs. Her kisses and nips lose focus. She shudders and Sanemi’s head falls back on his shoulders, attached only by her grasping hands. Leo clutches the open fabric of his uniform as she grinds, deeper, slower than Sanemi’s own growing heat can manage. The bulge of hakama catches the soft crease of her thighs– the tease of something warmer. He can’t force control back into his muscles. Sanemi crosses his arms around her waist and pulls Leo into his lap as he rolls against her.

Hot, desperate, the off kilter beat of her heart and all those small sounds she tries to keep quiet might as well send Sanemi straight to his grave. The smell of her will drown him, thick and sweet. When Leo finds purchase again in his hair he can only groan. He’s never— he doesn’t– Sanemi braces her hips with one hand and pulls her where it feels good, pushes, pulls, like a plea.

She clutches his other hand with her own trembling fingers and tucks it between the break of her robes. Sweat beads at her sternum. His eyes have gone wide and all the Wind Hashira can do is stare between Leo’s chest and the flex of her jaw as she opens and closes it in an attempt to stay quiet, eyes shut in concentration.

He clutches the breast Leo has led him to without stopping that guiding hand at the meat of her ass. Every brush of damp over his lap kicks his heart through his throat and he’s tracing the shape of her nipple before she can shut her mouth to keep her voice down.

“B-Baum–” she bites her lip and dips forward to kiss him again instead of finishing. Two hands on her ass, two hands cupping his face, if they keep grinding against one another he’ll– “Nem.”

“Le–” he attempts and succumbs to her kiss again. It’s wilder than before. Her hips have picked up rhythm and her tongue no longer asks before entering. She’ll swallow him. He’ll let her. It would be so easy– to just let his hands dig deeper. To slip under the folds of her robes and sink inside– lower her onto his–

“No!” Someone shrills behind them and Sanemi’s head jerks backwards, suddenly free of her lips, onto the floor with a start. Much to the Hashira’s rapidly approaching horror, Kanroji Mitsuri is standing in the doorway with a sizable chunk of the door frame broken off in her fist. Above him, Leo’s lips are drawn tight and she’s redder than a sunset. Her lips and jaw still glisten with saliva.

Mitsuri seems to have embarrassed herself even more with her outburst and looks rapidly between their lewd pile on the floor and the empty hallway. She squeaks with indecision and then storms inside. “Sanemi!” She huffs while pulling a stunned Leo from his grip and tossing her onto the bed, “Naughty! Not the time for love!” But mortification has frozen him to the floor. “This is a hospital.”

It’s all he can do to blink. Leo’s lilies ghost his swollen lips and her warmth still draws the sweat from his palms, which he keeps beside his head in shock or surrender until something ridiculous thaws the ice. Leo’s voice like wisteria echoes through the room in hiccups and laughter. Mitsuri’s as pink as her hair and everyone turns to stare but Leo laughs harder. There are tears in her eyes.

“Sanemi,” she gasps, “Up up, Baum!” and she clutches Mitsuri’s sleeve to keep her from moving. Sanemi’s on his feet at a dizzying speed and Leo speaks again from her golden and bandaged throne. He can only back away. “I will have you, Sanemi! Any way you’ll take me.” Her eyes shine like a great hungry garden, they hold back tears like a storm, “Don’t go where I can’t find you.”

As he scrambles from the room Mitsuri’s legs give out. The Love Hashira hits the mattress and he doesn’t catch a word that follows because Sanemi is diving headlong down the staircase– flying– in search of a hiding place. He hurdles Aoi and ignores the sound of his name, ignores the taste of her, down the entry hall, off the porch, and barefoot into Kocho’s garden. He kicks up her pristine sands and pebbles crunch where they should not and Sanemi crumbles in the first pool of shade.

He collapses under a maple tree. He bows over his knees and drops his head in its dirt. How? How a thousand things. Why? Why a handful fewer. Sanemi’s heart won’t survive this, worse than training, worse than death, what is this feeling? His fingers long to hold something over which he has no control. Foxglove trembles in a sunny breeze beside his head and then it whistles right through his ears, carrying scent of the flower with it.

Four years ago Kanae found him beside this exact bush trying his best to meditate in a limp wind. He’d seen her before, tall and docile. She had defended Ubuyashiki against his wrath at his first Hashira meeting and in his first Hashira hospital visit, she’d tucked a flower behind his grumpy ear.

“Why are you hiding?” Her voice was petal. “Would you like to be alone?” Sunshine, new moss. “Would you like to come with me?”

Sanemi smiles against the walkway stones and lets new tears fall. She knows exactly where he is. Leo will find him again.

#love the concept of reincarnated loves!#thx so much for the requst!#kny #sanemi x oc #had to use floral metaphors instead of ocean ones for the first time in forever #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #as always any excuse to write mitsuri is a good one

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acexsmhking · 2 months ago

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* ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝑷𝒔𝒚𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒚.ೃ࿐

‘(𝒏.) 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍’

❝ 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗼��, 𝗟𝗼𝗵𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗽𝗶𝘁𝘆. 𝗛𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀. ❞ — II Capitano

Hello! I’m Ace.

I go by She/They! I’m a relatively new writer, looking to share my ideas and thoughts with those around me and make friends.

I write for a number of fandoms (listed below) but do ask for anything even if it’s not listed, I am always happy to learn and grow!

I write mainly for; POC, Chubby readers. While I myself am AFAB and most of my thoughts are on my own bodily anatomy I include and write for multiple others such as GN, Trans, and Fluid. Other races, body types are also more than welcome. I aim to build a welcoming and loving community for the minorities of fandoms

Requests: OPEN!

Make sure you specify what xReader gender you want! Or I will assume AFAB!

My requests are open whenever unless stated otherwise, I will make sure to make public announcements when I close my asks

I ask that you strictly follow my rules, read them very carefully. However if you have more specific questions please feel free to ask

I write Fictions, Head-canons, Series, Images, etc. Everything is organized in the Masterlist. However if you wish to ask me questions, have conversations, or share cute animal pics feel free!

YES!

Can ask for fandoms not listed

Character x Character

Character x OC

Kinks (unless stated in “NO!”)

LGBT+

Mental Health

Mentions of Gore

Sexual Content 18+

Dark Themes (unless stated in “NO!”)

NO!

Rape

Pedophilia

“Aged up” (unless canonical)

NO kinks: scat, piss, age-play, race-play

Character OCs being hateful

*̩̩̥͙ -•̩̩͙-ˏˋ⋆𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙- *̩̩̥͙

Creepypasta

Genshin Impact

Transformers

Marvel

Attack on Titan

Call of Duty

DComics

Aliens v Predator (AVP)

Demon Slayer

❧ please let me know if anyone has any further questions! If you do not see a link on anything it is because I am still working on it! I hope we can all have fun together!

btw, I use picsart for all my banners/dividers incase anyone wanted to know ;p

— Ace

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xxlady-lunaxx · 5 months ago

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Alright hear me out.

Masachika x Kanae first meeting where they both get introduced to each other by Sanemi and Masachika is just head over heels.

ily

Masachika couldn’t be more obvious. Even Sanemi with his apparent lack of knowledge over things like this, he could see as clear as day that Masachika was absolutely head over heels for Kanae. Sanemi had introduced the two to each other a while back, mostly because there was no getting around being treated by Kanae for his constant injuries and Masachika was bound to meet her eventually. Also, he and Kanae had become something he could possibly put the term ‘friends’ on, and after mentioning her once, Masachika had jumped onto the idea of meeting her (supposedly, Sanemi wasn’t good at making friends). So with all due time, Sanemi introduced Kanae to Masachika.

He’d mostly forgotten about it, truthfully, only to be reminded when Masachika asked, casually, after a mission: “So… when are you seeing Kanae again?”

Startled by the random question, Sanemi took a moment to understand. Then another moment to place Masachika’s uncharacteristic shyness and the way he seemed to be avoiding eye contact.

“…Why do you ask?” Sanemi said suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

“Just wondering if I could tag along,” came the idle response that seemed much too deliberate. “She seemed nice.”

“Ooookay…?” Sanemi frowned. “This isn’t random.”

Masachika laughed—nervously. “Sorry.”

“Why do you want to see her?” Fully expecting it to be a jab at Sanemi about how Kanae somehow managed to ‘charm the uncharmable’ (Masachika’s words, not his), he was instead given a quiet:

“Just wanted to see her again, I dunno. Do I need a reason?”

No, he didn’t necessarily. But the way he was all but avoiding Sanemi in the process of asking said that this was much more than wanting to meet Sanemi’s friend again. It was something like—

“Hey,” Sanemi said slowly, inspecting Masachika. “Do you like her?”

“What? No! I just met her! That’s ridiculous,” Masachika said, head snapping up so he could meet Sanemi’s gaze. “She just seems like good company! Much nicer than you, anyway.”

Sanemi scowled. “You can tell me if you like her.”

“I don’t! I mean, I do, but not how you’re implying,” Masachika hurried to correct. “That’s… not it.”

“Okay. Sure.” Sanemi shook his head. “I don’t see what you see in her.”

“I don’t see what you don’t see in her!”

Masachika froze. Sanemi smiled.

“Gotcha,” he said, pulling out a roll of bandages to patch himself up.

“Asshole.”

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myreygn · 1 year ago

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YOUR LEE ENMU FIC WAS AMAZING AND I LOVED IT SO MUCH IT WAS WONDERFUL

I gotta ask,,,, if you're up for it, could you write something with ler!Douma and lee!Akaza cuz I just know Douma is a master tickle monster and poor Akaza is so ticklish sosjjsjdhdbd thank u in advance *smooches on the cheek*

Cracks

summary: It's not often that there's room for fooling around and goofing off amongst Lord Muzan's elite troup, but every now and then, Douma likes to have a little fun. Every now and then, Akaza likes to indulge him.

an: this took me way too long and i'm really really sorry about that - i hope you like it anyway and you had wonderful holidays!

wordcount: 1705

taglist: @giggly-squiggily, @rachi-roo

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

Douma was not easily entertained. Most of the things the average person would deem exciting were prone to boring him to death and more often than not he found himself zoning out during the most random times, because he was surrounded by such a lack of stimulation that it was truly astounding all by itself.

However, there were a few things that were amusing to him. Humans could be very entertaining from time to time; desperate humans and scared humans were his favorite kind. Waterfalls, waterfalls were really pretty. Bumblebees. The sheer concept of bumblebees was hysterical. His very favorite thing in the entire world though was cracking. Cracking horrible jokes. Cracking heads. Cracking his fellow Upper Moons.

Well, not all of them. There was a huge difference between making someone crack and making someone crumble, that difference mainly being who he was working with.

For example, making Kokushibo crack wasnʼt as fun as making him crumble. Kokushibo was stoic, emotionless and reserved. Seeing him explode into anger, laughter, tears, or anything of the like all of a sudden was interesting, sure, but it wasn’t fun because the buildup was too subtle to notice (even for Douma). But if you made him crumble, the slow process of Kokushibo’s walls being brought down became visible - bit by bit, brick by brick.

And then, there was the other end of the spectrum.

Douma almost felt giddy with excitement as he shuffled around in his place, watching the door with impatience. Any minute now, any minute… aha!

“Urgh, what are you doing here?” Akaza rolled his eyes the second they met Douma’s gaze, but Upper Moon Two didn’t waste any time feeling attacked by that. Within the blink of an eye he was at the shorter demon’s side, throwing an arm around his shoulders and putting his entire weight onto him. He knew Akaza could handle it, he just wanted to invade his personal space a little. Invading the personal space of others was another thing that made immortality worthwhile.

“Why, I’m here for the meeting of course. We’re both early birds today, aren’t we?”

“Do not call me that.”

Oh oh oh, Akaza was playing grumpy again. Emphasis on playing; if he were truly not in the mood for shenanigans, he would’ve pushed him away by now, or taken his head off at the very least. Douma smirked. He had a playful Akaza on his hands, what a lucky lucky day it was.

“What do you want me to call you then?”

If looks could kill… well, he’d be no more dead than before, but Akaza was certainly trying his best. Adorable.

“If you could just stop talking to me, that would be great, thanks.”

What a perfect setup. It was almost like Akaza wanted this to happen.

“Alright, let’s stop talking.”

A thing that only very very few people knew: Akaza was not immune to tomfoolery. Douma had caught him goofing around with Rui, Kaigaku and even Daki and Gyutaro several times and on rare occasions, he had even indulged in Douma’s own jabs and jokes instead of blowing up immediately.

Because blowing up, yes, that was what Akaza was known for the most amongst them, wasn’t it. And watching him blow up was charming, sure, but what Douma loved most was the thing right before the big explosion. That moment of realization when Akaza became aware of the incoming explosion and tried to stop it. The way he gave everything to not let it happen and the way it was never enough. Delicious.

Akaza flinched and his hands shot down to grab Douma’s wrists. “Don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything, Akaza-dono.” It wasn’t even a lie. Alright, maybe he had curled his fingers into the lower ranked demon’s waist just a moment ago, but right now he wasn’t doing anything. Just resting his fingers on Akaza’s sides. And despite the vice grip on his wrists, they weren’t being pulled off. Hm-hm.

A full body spasm nearly had Upper Three slip away from him when he curled his fingers again, but Douma was very skilled in using a lot of strength and making it look like nothing. In other words, holding Akaza secure with just his fingers had the added fun bonus of infuriating him. “Douma, if you don’t stop that-”

“Stop what? You’ll need to be more specific- oh, this?” He smirked when a soft yelp slipped out of Akaza’s mouth. “Surely that’s nothing to you, Akaza-dono. I’m just stretching my hands.”

Douma carefully increased the pressure of his fingers digging into the pale flesh of his subordinate. Even though Akaza was facing away from him, his back pressed against Douma’s chest with no way to hide his trembles and flinches, Douma had a good idea what his expression looked like. He could see Akaza’s flushed neck and ears, the way he bit his cheek. And now, he just had to-

“EAH!”

Ah, yes, there it was. The crack. Akaza had such a temper, cracking him with a few cleverly, and even not so cleverly, placed comments was easy. But it also got boring very quickly and besides, this was by far the best way to make him crack.

Douma smirked to himself as he clawed on one of his very favorite spots on Akaza’s body. Stomach never disappoints… “What is it, Akaza-dono? Too ticklish?”

“YOHOU KNOW IHIT IS- DOUMAHAHAH!”

Hell yeah he knew that. Upper Two allowed himself to giggle in glee - not that Akaza could hear him with his booming laughter filling the Infinity Castle. He wrapped an arm around the smaller demon’s torso when his struggling got too intense to hold back with just his fingers and used his free hand to continue the tickling of his stomach. Delightful.

“DOHOHOUMAHAHAHAHAH, NAHAHAHAT- TOO MUHUHUHUCH!”

“Alright, alright.” Douma carefully guided the hysterical demon to the ground when his knees got weak and took a seat on his thighs to secure him, then he immediately latched his wiggling fingers onto Akaza’s ribs so he wouldn’t get a chance to recover and slip away. The reaction was instant.

“Yohohou piece ohof- nahahahah!”

“Oh but you can handle it, can’t you?” Douma grinned down at his victim’s flushed face, making sure to give the spaces in between his ribs extra attention. Once the cracking was complete, once the dam had broken, it was nearly impossible for Akaza to compose himself or hold himself back in any way.

That applied to movement as well. Douma let out a grunt when he got kneed in the back; he actually had to put in effort to hold Akaza down, that wasn’t often the case. Maybe his tickling was just especially good today. Judging by the way Akaza was howling when he moved his hands upwards to scratch at the space between his ribs and armpits, that was the case.

“Nahahahahat thehehehere! Yohou ahahahahass!”

“I don’t think you want to insult me right now.” Douma smirked and grabbed one of Akaza’s wrists, surprising him enough to pull it up and dig into his armpit. “I know thinking can be a hard thing to do for you, but that’s really not smart.”

Akaza shrieked and nearly threw Douma off with how hard he was bucking. “GEAHAHAHAH- GEHEHEHEHET OHOUT OF THEHEHEHERE! NAHAHAHAT THERE, DOHOUMAHAHAHAH!”

“Man, you’re really difficult today.” Douma mock-sighed and stayed at the spot a little longer before scribbling Akaza’s stomach and quickly moved on to squeeze his hips instead when the trapped demon let out a sound close to a sob. “Not here, not there… how about here?”

The hips still had Akaza giggling like crazy, but he was not nearly as hysterical as he had been before. Douma couldn’t help but smile a bit. “You look nice like this, Akaza-dono. With your face so flushed.”

The blush only intensified and Akaza even tried to hide his face - unsuccessful. “Sh-shuhuhut uhu- EEK!”

“Was that a squeak?” Douma let out an evil chuckle. “Then I guess that’s my sign.”

“Yohour sign to wha- Douma, no, nononono, do nAHAHAHAHAH- DOUMAHAHAHAHAH, FUHUHUHUCKIHING HEHEHELL!” Hysterical couldn’t even begin to describe it. Akaza threw his head back, cackling and howling and squealing all at once, even a snort breaking throw here and there; his back arched and he twisted around to try and avoid the horribly ticklish fingers scribbling over his stripes with the lightness of a feather.

Upper Two smirked - he was barely touching Akaza, yet had him in stitches anyway. He had been avoiding the tattoos, these absolute platinum tickle spots on his subordinate’s already sensitive body, as much as possible to save the best for last. And the best it truly was. He watched in awe how tears of laughter spilled down Akaza’s flushed cheeks. That meant he would soon-

“DOHOHOUMAHAHAHAH, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

Yup, there it was. Playful or not, if he started begging it meant that Akaza had truly reached his limits. Douma gave the stripe he was tormenting one last scratch, then he took his hands off and stood up, giving him some space to recover.

Being a demon and all, that recovery only took Akaza about two seconds and Douma couldn’t even react when the smaller demon jumped up and pounced on him, glaring down at him from where he was crouched on Douma’s chest. “You!”

“Me?” Upper Two didn’t let the sudden attack wash off his smile. It was a genuine smile for once - this little encounter had significantly heightened his mood and despite the scowl on Akaza’s face, he could tell he felt the same.

The sound of Nakime’s biwa in the distance and the following bickering of two voices from next door notified them of the arrival of Daki and Gyutaro and Akaza seemed to consider his next move for a moment, then he snarled and got up. “I’ll get you back, jerk.”

Douma only grinned at the threat and sat up when the siblings entered the room so as to not tip them off that something unusual had happened. If he was feeling a little excited at the prospect of more goofing around with Akaza, that was their business alone, and if he caught Akaza cracking a smile as he turned away, no one needed to know.

#rey writes #tword fic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny fic #upper moons #douma #akaza #ler!douma #lee!akaza #ticklish!akaza #this is my first time writing lee akaza can yall believe it #it lowkey terrifies me that demon slayer is all i ever talk about and i have like. five fics on it.#we oughta change that

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assassinhomecreedstuck · 5 months ago

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i cant believe ive played world of warcraft for 20 years

#i should write all my warcraft oc lore into fanfics or something #let tarwas and larevasha live forever on AO3.com #i have a druid (larevasha) nelf and demon hunter (tarwas) nelf and they were gfs before the sundering #then they got separated in the chaos of the legion attacks and sundering itself and both thought the other was dead #before all that tho they were both druid trainees and larevasha was good at it but tarwas was total ass at being a druid #(tarwas was never able to shapeshift)#after the sundering larevasha fully dedicated herself to druidism and got really powerful #but she spent so much time in shapeshifted forms that she has lost a few marbles over time #she gives a bit of a Radagast the Brown vibe #while tarwas said fuck this to druidism and instead chose vengeance #still thinking about wtf she wouldve been upto between the sundering and illidan starting the illidari #but im pretty sure this is where her rocky training montage goes and she gains proficiency with martial weapons and gets angrier and angrier #then she jumps at the chance to become illidari and becomes the slayer (dh leader) while larevasha becomes archdruid #then they both meet at the pep talk circle khadgar gives before the tomb of sargeras raid #but they don't recognize eachother at first because it's been 10 thousand years and they thought the other was dead and theyve changed #they only realize partway thru the raid (i imagine the raid more like a darkest dungeon run where they take short camp breaks to rest)#they both freak the fuck out #queue drama during the raid and final couple boss fights #after the raid and in between all their duties leading their factions they try to make time to catch up #it gets worse before it gets better though and there is not much free time in between saving azeroth and invading what's left of argus #there is a short respite after legion before bfa though and they do a lot of catching up there #then sylvanis fucking burns down teldrassil and tarwas and larevasha and the rest of the nelves loose their collective shit #*sylvanas #all through bfa they remain close and start getting a little flirty again (keep in mind it's been 10k years)#they both go into shadowlands fully intending on supporting tyrande 100% btw #in shadowlands however the slow burn starts cranking up the heat and by the end of shadowlands they're gfs again #then in the few years of no world ending threats between shadowlands and dragonflight they basically get married #(i do still need to look into nelf culture around that but the gist is theyre partners forever)#dragonflight would mostly consist of them holding hands while beating the shit out of the primalists #and i havent played the war within yet but i imagine itll be similar

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otaku553 · 2 years ago

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so you know how I've been talking about the Kazuha Demon Slayer crossover for ages now?

Hahahaha

Chapter 1 is out :)

#ahjskdkhjf #drops this and runs #I will be honest!!! I dont think I characterized sanemi very well lmao #he's the exact kind of character I don't know how to write! Like selectively respectful and doesn't give a shit otherwise #and also like extremely angry and driven and such! I am much more used to writing quiet pensive more rational characters I think #I had to rewrite this first chapter like 3 times because I couldn't figure out how to get Sanemi and Kazuha to mesh together very well #Like neither of them are particularly trusting on first meeting someone especially with added suspicion from both sides #and I still have like. no idea how to actually write grief which greatly complicates writing this #because it's meant to be an exploration of Kazuha's grief through the lens of other demon slayer characters #oh well if people don't like it I suppose it was still good practice on writing #It is 1 AM and I am Letting Anxiety Get the Better of Me #and I have to wake up at 8 tomorrow so I should go sleep #ok bye

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mypinkshoelaces · 13 days ago

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I may or may not have been spiraling back into the kny fandom and of course I've made up a fanfiction in my head which takes place in an AU

So now I'm sitting here creating said AU to a fanfiction that I might never start writing

#and it's not even the first time #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #writing #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #au #kny fanfic #may's talking

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thenezuverse · 4 months ago

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R E V A M P

Hello my lovely readers! Usually before starting the next part of this series, I re-read all of Sunlight to get myself back into the swing of things. However! This time, I was absolutely struck by the fact that I utterly hated my own writing! In light of this discovery, I decided to do a revamp of all the chapters I don't particularly like. I will not be changing anything fundamental about the story, but I will be doing some extensive construction, as well as adding in some new details. I will post updates on my tumblr when a part is completely finished, for anyone looking to re-read the updated version. If you don't want to, that is 100% okay, the story will still make sense later on because I won't be changing any of the major plot points. That being said, Part 1 is officially redone and ready to go! Thank you for your patience and support, and enjoy!

#im sorry im a mess #ao3 fanfic #all i see is sunlight #demon slayer nezuko #fics by me #when you try your best but you don't succeed #(at containing your impossible self-expectations)#why did anyone read this the first time i lowkey hate it #im not who i was 2 years ago #in fact im much worse #but i also might be funnier #and slightly better at writing :p

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larz-barz · 1 year ago

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Can you do my two ocs, Haia x Basil? For the scenario: include them first meeting, but then basil goes off to fight a demon, but when they get back, haia learns it was a kizuki and that Basil lost his other arm, but killed it anyway and became a hashira. Sorry if this a lot to ask, it's okay if you dont want to do it. Female x not-exactly-human-or-human-gender character wasn't exactly on the list xD

yeah i can do that!:3

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Falling for you

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Basil was outside training when he heard an unfamiliar voice from inside the butterfly mansion.

‘Who is that?’ He wondered as he walked in.

He saw a girl around his age. She had brown and teal hair, teal eyes with star pupils, and she was wearing a pink and yellow cropped haori.

The girl’s eyes go to him and she smiles and energetically bounces to him.

“I’m Haia! What’s your name?” She questioned happily.

“It’s nice to meet you Haia. I’m Basil.”

——————————————————————————

After they first met, Haia learned how powerful Basil was.

He decided to help Shinobu train her.

“Why can’t I get it?!” Haia was getting frustrated, she bent down slightly. Her hands on her knees as sweat dripped down her face.

Basil walked over and bent down, gently holding her by her upper arms.

“Be patient, you’ll get it eventually. It just takes time.” He smiled softly at her and her tensed expression and body relaxed.

——————————————————————————

Haia eagerly awaited Basil’s return from a mission.

The boy stumbled into the butterfly mansion, Haia immediately ran to him.

The first thing she noticed was his other lower arm was missing now too. “Hey Haia!” He chirped and smiled, albeit tiredly.

Haia frowned slightly looking down at Basil’s lower arm, or rather lack there of.

“Your arm..” She looked up at him worriedly.

“It’s ok Haia, at least Upper 3 is gone now.” He said and her eyes widen.

“You killed upper 3?!” She asked, a bit shocked. She knew he was strong but she didn’t realize he was that strong.

Basil nodded, understanding her shock. “Yeah, I did.” He smiles softly. “How did things go while I was away?”

“They went well, I’ve been training. Shinobu san told Milo san that I was struggling a bit on one of the starlight breathing forms so she came by to help me out.” She explained and smiled.

“Were you able to get it?” He asked, tilting his head slightly and she nodded. He was gonna ask how Milo was doing but then his crow tapped on the nearby window, signaling for him to come outside.

Haia went out with him due to curiosity.

“Basil Kocho, you have been summoned to go see the master at headquarters.” The crow said and Basil nodded, giving Haia a quick hug before walking off. Haia blushed and smiled softly.

“Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone ok?” He called out as he walked in the direction of headquarters.

“You got it!” She called back, her hands went up to her mouth to further project her voice to his ears.

——————————————————————————

After a while, Basil comes back with an excited smile on his face.

“Haia!” He called out and she came into the room.

“Yeah?” She responded, matching his excited energy.

“I’ve been promoted to hashira!” He exclaimed excitedly and Haia gasped and cheered happily for Basil.

“That’s amazing!” She exclaimed and hugged him.

A light blush grazed Basil’s cheeks at the contact.

Shinobu came in and smiled softly. “Congratulations on becoming a hashira, Basil. I’m so proud of you.”

Basil smiled back. “Thank you Shinobu san, that means a lot.”

“Let’s get that other robotic fore-arm on, yeah?” She asked and Basil nodded.

“I’ll see you later, Haia! There’s something I was wanting to tell you.” He blushed slightly and smiled as he followed Shinobu back.

Haia nodded, noticing the blush slowly taking over his pale complexion.

“Alright, Basil! I’ll be waiting for you!” She winked at him.

He blushed harder as he walked off.

——————————————————————————

“Haia?” Basil called out after a while of resting.

“Yeah?” She responded then Basil kissed her on the cheek.

“Get what I was wanting to tell you?” He asked smiling softly at the shorter girl who was blushing heavily.

“Y-yeah.. I like you too..” She muttered softly and Basil smiled brightly.

~the end~

A/n: I hope you like this, Ace! I’m sorry if I was off with their personalities and stuff, I tried to be accurate! Btw given the timeline of events, hashira Milo would’ve been the one to train Haia in starlight breathing cause she’s a year younger than Haia and Basil in every miloverse<3

#ask larz #larz does reqs #larz writes #mrp #oc x oc ship #oc x oc #oc x oc fic #mrpppp #my first time doing oc x oc #i hope i did ok😭#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #teehee #basil kocho #haia #milo mentioned #shinobu kocho

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imu-chan · 2 years ago

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Part 2. of ‘What Happened to Tomioka’

******************

On principle, Giyuu never slept well, but he especially never slept well after being throttled half to death by demons. Once he had woken up from his initial, classic battlefield collapse, his body had seemed to want to avoid returning to sleep more than anything. He supposed that was normal, and reasoned that anyone even attempting to sleep with as many tubes and devices connected to his vital organs as he had would find the night a worthy opponent.

Still. Never had his pains been so strong that he couldn’t so much as close his eyes without risking spinning, bright colors flashing in his vision. This was now the fourth day since he first awoke, and he hated to admit that he was desperately close to begging Shinobu for some kind of horse tranquilizer.

He had become irritable, and grumpy beyond anything he had experienced before, and loathed the idea of anyone other than the butterfly workers and Shinobu attempting to interact with him. Not that anyone was looking to interact with him in the first place.

Not that he wanted anyone to visit him.

He already knew he wasn’t exactly a delightful person even at his best, so he wouldn’t wish his current mood on even the likes of a Twelve Kizuki. Well, maybe he would. Migraines were a bitch.

That aside, while his mindset was presently bleary with medication and sleep deprivation, he supposed that his current horrible temperament wasn’t as fearsome as it usually would be. That wasn’t for lack of trying, although he could barely do that either. His arms and hands had been involuntarily clenching and curling for some time now, so at least he wasn’t losing any muscle mass yet. None of this compared to his actual injury, though.

This was exactly why he wasn’t fit to be the Water Hashira, he thought. Maybe now the Master would see that Giyuu was meant to be temporary. He could take someone more qualified, maybe someone with a completely different breathing style. He recalled that the former Thunder Hashira, Kuwajima-san, was believed to be training a few young slayers. It might be nice for the Corps to have more powerful techniques. Or perhaps just a more powerful wielder. He had plenty of free time now to endlessly contemplate all the ways he had messed up on his mission in order to end up here.

He remembered breathing heavily as he fought, chasing after the demons fleeing for the dark of the forest. Sunrise wasn’t far off, and he was eager for this fight to end. He got what he wanted. He didn’t anticipate an ambush, not with such a flimsy group of weaklings like this.

While the fight started with nearly fifteen child-sized demons, Giyuu had whittled them down to what he believed was five. Apparently his counting skills had gotten a little rusty. As he crossed the threshold of the woods, his blue blade almost humming in the dark, two more of the demons leapt upon him from above, managing to knock him down.

This group wasn’t particularly dangerous, at least not on the surface. Their claws were dull and round, their speed was average at best, and even their teeth were mostly ground down into flat nubs. They seemed to mainly target children, being the closest in size and more vulnerable.

Thankfully, Giyuu had kept them far back from the villages as possible, so since he’d shown up there hadn’t been any casualties. He still approached the situation with caution. There had to be a reason this pack hadn’t been defeated so easily. He observed their power soon enough.

These demons’ main weapons came twofold; their Blood Demon Art was a paralytic gas of some sort, (which had taken Giyuu two frustrating days to find a solution for; when in doubt, try wisteria) and they had overly large, powerful fists, with enough force to level a tree. Again, not exactly out of the ordinary, but the paralytic mist and the size of the initial group was troublesome enough that a Hashira was needed to weed out the little pests. Then again…perhaps the Master should have sent a true Hashira.

Upon attack, Giyuu had grunted and rolled onto his back, using the motion to slice one of the fists in half, which had then slowly begun to regenerate. Before he could continue, the sting of the paralytic flooded his nose, the sheer, cloying strength of it making him dizzy.

The wisteria chain around his collar disintegrated. The rest of the remaining group had circled back to their comrades, and, to his disliking, began to merge into one large, multi-armed, heavy demon, with its main set of hands digging their claws into he flesh of Giyuu’s arms. With a crunch, he felt his shoulders slam into the ground, and felt the dirt and rocks on the ground dig into his flesh.

His haori— it must have torn— gave way to blood-slick mud, which entered into the punctures in his arms. That meant his arms were literally pinned into the ground by the suddenly quite sharp talons of the demon. Their bodies fusing— this must have increased their physical abilities, as well as the power of their blood demon art breathing.

Dread pooled quickly in Giyuu’s gut when his sword was wrenched from his frozen grasp, the force of it pulling his wrist with a sickening pop. He couldn’t move. His sight blurred into fuzzy shapes against his will. All he remembered after that was so, so many hands covering his vision, a crushing pressure, the smell of copper, and a paralyzing blackness that left him helpless in the care of the Insect Hashira.

Speaking of, Shinobu, ever enduring, had been mainly focused on the seemingly impossible tasks of keeping him from choking on his own saliva and on him making it through the night without dislodging the tangle of tubes and pumps forcing his airway to work as intended. It seemed any sudden movement, even a cough, could turn a delicate system of machines into a pile of parts, which wasn’t pleasant for any of them to deal with.

Shinobu had deduced that the demon specifically tried to flatten his windpipe, given that his whole neck was now made of bruised purple flesh. On all sides, the column that was once his neck was now sore and tender to the touch, crumpled like fabric, dark and rotten like a horrid, all-permeating sunburn.

His eyes stung constantly, making them water relentlessly and stream down his ashen cheeks, as many blood vessels had burst from the pressure, flooding the whites on his eyes with crimson splotches. Everything happening to him now was either from the actual physical force used against him, or a direct result of oxygen loss from his brain.

Strangulation… not only was it very unusual, but this methodology was also deeply baffling. Why would a demon bother with such a mighty effort? It didn’t spill any blood. It took prolonged force and strength. It would have worked, though, had sunlight not caught the demon off guard and scorched it from the Earth. Giyuu laid unconscious in the cool morning, breathing through a windpipe the size of a straw, for about a half-hour until the Kakushi came to his rescue.

He hadn’t been able to feel any sensations in his neck and lower jaw since then, which he supposed was a blessing. Everywhere else ached or bled. He couldn’t even swallow so much as a breath without assistance from some fancy device pumping the air for him. He couldn’t tell where his skin ended and the tubes began. He didn’t want to feel any of it.

“Ara ara. You’re not up in your head again, are you Tomioka?”

It took a surprising amount of effort for him to shift his damp eyes towards his comrade. Shinobu fiddled with the dial on the tube in his arm. Her purple eyes met his, and stilled.

“Then again…I’m not sure there’s anywhere else for you to be at this point, huh?”

The lack of ability, of control over himself, that was what was impacting him the most. Other than moving his legs, of which the worst injury was an infected slash on his thigh, he was able to make hand and eye movements only, for fear of upsetting the machines keeping him alive. Giyuu admittedly didn’t care for these new, technological deities, but even he wasn’t fool enough to defy them.

He winced as his left arm, the one with the sprained wrist, curled and spasmed as he attempted to use it. All of his focus was now on moving his fingers into what he hoped was the right sign.

“Need?” Shinobu guessed, staring at his trembling hand. “What do you need, Tomioka?”

Slowly, he moved his fingers into the shape of the first character. He didn’t know the sign for ‘kindly insert whatever forsaken substance killed Gauguin’, and he couldn’t remember what the damned medicinal drug was anyway, so he finger-spelled ‘mayuku’ as best he could.

Purple eyes crimped. For the first time since he woke up, Shinobu actually laughed, her voice like wind chimes. She tapped a teasing finger against her chin with a little smile.

“Alright, you’ll get your painkillers soon enough. Dinner first, which is in…ten minutes!”

Giyuu’s fingers were cramping and loosening already, so he had to be satisfied with sending Shinobu a withering look. ‘Dinner’ was just her exchanging his near-empty intravenous drip bag for a full one. It didn’t need time to prepare. She was just being a terrible doctor on purpose.

“Have you managed to sleep at all?” She asked in a more gentle tone, taking in the pallor of his face and the purple-gray swelling under his eyes. With his other hand, Giyuu managed ‘no’.

“Hmm. It might be a better idea to reroute the tubeage through the skin…it’s not any less irritating, but it might allow a bit more stability. You should find sleeping easier in that case?”

She phrased it as a question, but Giyuu was already trying to sign his consent. His fingers wouldn’t work with his brain. The frustration billowed within him, and he managed to use enough force to smack his injured wrist (metal splint and all) against the railing of his bed.

Shinobu clearly didn’t appreciate this tremendous display of raw power, as she pursed her lips and firmly wrapped one of her hands around his splinted arm. She threaded her small fingers carefully through his stiff ones.

“Ara ara, none of that. Squeeze my hand as tight as you can if you’d like me to try the procedure—ah. Alright, Tomioka.”

A swell of gratitude welled up in Giyuu’s sore chest, and, reluctant as he was to show it, he knew Shinobu had been especially attentive to him since he was brought in. She had barely even poked fun at him. He had concluded that she knew his wounds were deep, and she was making every effort to not only keep him alive, but to see him comfortable as he was treated. She wasn’t risking anything to help him, but she was helping him.

In all the time he had known the Kochos, he still never felt deserving of their innate kindness. He squeezed again, as tight as he could, and let his eyes lose their defensive edge. Although he couldn’t have denied help if he tried, he did allow himself to accept his…friend’s…offered hand.

He tentatively allowed himself to have a friend.

Shinobu’s gaze fixated on his still-wet and red eyes. She didn’t say anything for a few beats, just let his trembling fingers clench tight to hers. His grip began to loosen, and that was when she tightened her own hold on his hand. She squeezed back, face still open, calm as a garden breeze. Her hand was dry and warm. It was the most comfort he’d felt in days. He didn’t mind it at all.

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strixcattus · 6 months ago

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I always thought that what the owls of Ga'Hoole needed was a good helping of cosmic terror.

combine your first real fandom with your current one to create a terrible, terrible au

#'first real fandom' is a tough thing to define #what qualifies it? do I have to have participated in the social aspect of fandom for it to count?#or are the multiple fancomics that may still be sitting on a shelf somewhere enough to qualify?#ANYWAY my criteria is just that this would be really funny and actually work #I'm adding “Guardians of Ga'Hoole x The Magnus Archives” to my list of fanfictions that I'd like to write #(if it has to be the first fandom where I actually interacted with other people...#then depending on the criteria it may be lost to time forever...#...or it could be warrior cats if being a Warrior Cats Kid counts #could be wings of fire by a different definition #could even be demon slayer if you have really stringent criteria)#don't mind me just overthinking in the tags

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the-dragon-hearted · 2 months ago

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CONSTRUCTION ZONE

I just revamped like 5 chapters of As Things Should Be so if you notice some changes, sorry, but it was for the sake of pacing.

#demon slayer #fanfiction #Updates #As Things Should Be #demon slayer AU #Kotoha and Douma's relationship was SOOOOO rushed #But it was my first time writing romance fanfic so honestly I'm proud of how it turned out #Like little me was cooking

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xxlady-lunaxx · 5 months ago

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the air was sweet. cool like stone, but refreshing. it danced through obanai’s hair, ruffling his clothing. he gazed up at the sky. it was different than before when shinjuro had first found him. then, it had been dark. ominous. now it was a peaceful blue, clear and dotted with fluffy white somethings. there was a bright ball of light that warmed obanai. he put his hands on his knees and, while the minutes crept past, he realized that the initial slight chill to the air had been diminished as the sun wrapped its arms around him. he looked down at the ground where a bird had begun to hop. it chirped, a high-pitched, small sound. obanai gazed at it curiously. he watched as it pecked at the dirt, searching. eventually, it flew away. he realized that there was sound behind him, the culprit to the bird’s disappearance. he turned. it was kyojuro, the little boy who was the son of shinjuro. he looked as if he’d just awoken, rubbing his eyes. his hair was a mess, but it was the same marvelous, golden flames of his father’s. he smiled at obanai with childish exuberance. he plopped down beside him, legs swinging where they dangled off the porch. he turned to obanai, looking at him with with the same searching eyes of the bird’s. his eyes were wide and full of life. like the breeze that toyed with the tuffs of grass beneath their feet.

“did you sleep?” kyojuro asked mildly. he peered at him. “you look tired!”

obanai returned his gaze but said nothing. he watched the fiery hair tangle more as kyojuro lay back. he was staring up, and obanai followed his gaze to see nothing but the roof over the engawa. then kyojuro lifted a hand, a finger pointing to where a pillar steadied it. obanai squinted, following the path up to a spider web. it was tucked away, protected from the wind and the sun. obanai had never understood spiders. they had nestled in his room before, even beginning to make homes where piles of food had built up. he didn’t know why they would prefer to hide away. away from the new air and the warm sun. away from the birds that searched and the men who saved.

kyojuro was sitting back up. he looked at obanai. “i think you’re tired,” he said, matter-of-factly. “you should sleep! here”—he patted his lap—“you can put your head here and sleep. mother lets me sleep on her lap sometimes! it’s comfy!”

obanai eyed him suspiciously. when nothing bad seemed to happen, he crawled closer to the boy. tentatively, he lay his head on kyojuro’s lap. it was uncomfortable for his body, which seemed to dangle half off the porch now, so he dragged himself up with a little effort. now he lay vertically, his head on the kyojuro’s lap and his body on the wood. he turned slightly. there. he could see outside too, like this. his eyes searched the grounds, flitting to a tree that sat a few yards from the house. the bird from earlier was back at his treasure hunt, scouring the base of the tree. abruptly, kyojuro patted obanai.

“sleep!” he ordered. his voice was like the bird’s. melodic in its own, sudden way. he leaned down to smile at obanai again. his eyes closed when he smiled. the sunlight poured down his face. he opened his eyes, though his lips remained with the lingering grin. “i’ll protect you if anything happens! like father! so you can sleep, okay?”

obanai gazed up at him uncertainly. he supposed he was tired. he nodded ever so slightly. immediately, the other boy was consoled. he pet obanai once more before leaning back to allow him more room. obanai was hesitant to close his eyes at first, wishing to watch the bird. but he willed himself to anyway. as kyojuro had said, he would be protected if anything happened. and so his eyes fluttered close. still, he saw red, the light filtering through his eyelids. he let his conscious drift away from the color, instead focusing on the warmth. kyojuro was warm. his hand, which had rested previously on obanai’s face for several seconds, had been warm, too. it was curious. obanai was never naturally warm somehow, he seemed to be always cold. yet now, he didn’t notice it. the sun and kyojuro—and then he had a thought. he’d thought that the rengoku’s seemed to embody fire. but kyojuro was like the sun. he was gentle and comforting and warm. so, very warm.

the hands of sleep began to tug obanai’s mind from where it was nestled on kyojuro’s lap. and, for the first time, he didn’t try to resist it. he let himself float away into a dreamland of pretty fires and quiet suns and singing birds. he hoped he stayed here forever.

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