#special shout out to Eat Your Young

[another-corpo-rat]

OC Playlist Meme

Tagged by @swearingcactus (tyyy <33) copying the sharing a wip along with these cos thats such a fun idea and it is wip wednesday my dudes alas my readable wips are but snippets rn so also including my characteristic ramblings as well

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Hello Zepp + Overture

“So long as I won’t lose my life through sparing his…” She mirrors Hanako’s pause, not for dramatic effect or to consider her words but merely because she could. Gesturing lazily with her hand, “I’ll allow it.” And it’s a delicious thought; that Yorinobu’s survival is decided on her whim. Maybe if he knew that he wouldn’t have tried fucking her around, instead ordering Adam to kill her the moment he felt her gaze sharpen against his back.

One of the more recent additions to her playlist due to the fact I feel like I don't explore or put forward how truly cruel this woman can be. I needed a little reminder of that and what better way than the theme from one of my favourite horror franchises. There's something about 2:23 onwards that really meshes with her; the potential for tragedy that builds into something decidedly not in that vein.

Call Me Cruella

Victoria hums, amused but there’s an edge to it. A sharp point aiming squarely at the man across the room. “He’s a nobody.” She hisses, venom finally curling around her tongue and dousing the words.

I refuse to watch the film this song is from but my goddd if there's a single song that suits Ms Victoria Crane near perfectly its this one; the sheer unapologetic nature of indulging in one's own awfulness and THRIVING for it. The threads of vanity and fashion throughout the lyrics are just perfect too, esp for my fashion-indulgent lil bitch tbh

Villain

Victoria’s violence is different, much different than hers and Adam’s; an insidious flow of insults off a barbed tongue, coated in a soft rasp that makes the horrid words pleasant to listen to. Different and bloodless, yet entrancing all the same.

While I adore Call Me Cruella and do consider it largely Victoria's 'song;' this was what I had playing constantly throughout all of her development. It was probably what had me lean into making her a corpo since I wasn't happy with her in the Street-kid origin, and just making her unapologetically a villain. i could have just made her an awful street-kid but also. i like evil women in suits

From Eden

And she would never accuse him of being soft, even in his gentler moments there’s a risk of cutting herself against him. Both literally and not. But there’s something cautious to him now, a lightness to his touch, a hesitance that strikes her as odd. “Adam?” She breathes out into the dark of the room, watching the barest glints of light shift against the edges of his frame. His optics brighten minutely, a barely-there flash of surprise and his hand pauses, knuckles gentle in their rest against her cheek.

and this is just purely there for self-indulgence. hozier just has me in a chokehold and there's something about this one of his that lowkey fits Victoria/Adam and the thing they both refuse to put a name to for the longest time.

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Tagging with no pressure! @merge-conflict, @vox-monstera, @theviridianbunny

[peachdues]

THE GREAT WAR

PART I ♤ SECRET PREGNANCY AU

A/N: After seven months, it's finally here. Part I of Giyuu's Bundle of Joy. This fic involved a ton of research and tears. I hope you all enjoy. Special shout-out to @squishybabei @kentohours @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701 @ghost-1-y and @xxsabitoxx for letting me bombard your DMs with endless snippets from this fic for feedback. Note that this is a multi-part fic, and it will be a non-linear story.

CW: explicit sexual content ☼ MDNI ☼ loss of virginity ☼ unprotected sex ☼ protective/possessive Giyuu ☼ canon-typical violence

LISTEN TO THE PLAYLIST HERE

January, 1915

The moon’s rays filtered through the sparse canopy of the trees from above, bathing that small portion of the forest in its silvery glow. There, about twenty paces ahead, Giyuu locked eyes on his target.

A demon; one he’d been pursuing through the dense forest separating his Manor from the base of a great mountain for the last several miles

The demon had yet to notice him, for it was focused entirely on its own prey — a human woman, who was frantically zigzagging as she ran in a desperate effort to evade its clutches. 

She was succeeding rather well in her endeavor, managing to dart out of the beast’s reach right as it snapped its sharp, deadly claws at her back. But the girl then miscalculated her movements and stumbled over something — whether it was a tree root or her own feet, he could not say — and she went airborne. For one, sickening moment, Giyuu feared he would not be fast enough to save her from falling victim to the demon he was readying to kill.

The girl squealed as she fell, just narrowly managing to avoid the swipe of the beast’s claws as they cut uselessly at the air where her back had been only seconds before. Something long and wooden flew from her hand as she sprawled across the forest floor – a broom.

Odd. 

Steps quick and even, Giyuu’s thumb flicked his sword free from its scabbard. Within seconds of him drawing his weapon, the Slayer’s blade sliced seamlessly through the demon’s neck, its head thudding pathetically to the forest floor before the beast could comprehend the threat.

He landed swiftly on the balls of his feet, the Water Pillar quickly shaking his blade free of the demon’s blackened, rotted blood before sheathing it at his hip. A quick job – that was how he liked it; free of fuss. 

Behind him, he heard the leaves coating the frozen ground of the forest shift and crack as the human girl he’d rescued rose to her feet. He grimaced; while helping rid the world of the blight inflicted upon it by demons was his life’s sole and true purpose, and one he fulfilled without hesitation, he was little more than a fish out of water when it came to talking to those he helped. 

The girl had yet to flee; Giyuu suspected she might be in shock, if not a bit simple, and he sought to prod her along. After all, the sooner she left the forest, the less likely she’d end up a demon’s meal and waste his efforts in preserving her life. 

“You should be fine now. Please return to your ho-,” The dark-haired Slayer’s words were cut off with a sputter as the head of the woman’s broom whacked him sharply up the side of his skull. 

Giyuu stood there for a moment, dazed and slightly confused as he turned towards the woman whose life he’d just preserved. 

The Water Pillar had not paid her much mind upon discovering her seconds away from becoming the slain horned demon’s newest meal, his attention having been entirely focused on eliminating his target. But now, without the distracting threat of a man-eating beast, he could see she was clad in the traditional attire worn by Shinto priestesses, though she looked far too young to have achieved such a status. Instead, she appeared to be much closer to himself in age. The front of her red hakama pants were streaked in mud and dirt from her fall, and several strands of hair had fallen loose from where they’d been gathered in a ribbon just below her shoulders. 

And she was glaring at him. 

“What are you?” She demanded, and the Water Pillar noted the faint tremor in her voice that she worked to conceal behind her defensive stance, her broom braced in front of her like a blade. 

A slow blink. “I am Tomioka.” 

It baffled him that he let his name slide so freely when he’d never been one particularly keen on sharing it. Yet, he’d thought that perhaps the exchange of names would get the wild woman before him to calm, and perhaps lower the sweeping tool —-

“What the hell is a Tomioka?” 

Giyuu wondered whether the — Miko, that was what young priestesses in training were called — had hit her head in the fall. “My name.” 

A faint dusting of red spread across the Miko’s cheeks as she realized the absurdity of her mistake, though she still did not lower her weapon. Rather, she jutted it towards him in what Giyuu thought may have been an attempt to be threatening. 

“And what was that thing just now, Tomioka? And what are you?”  Quickly, her eyes swept behind him, scanning. “Are there more?”

Idly, Giyuu wondered why he was bothering to indulge in such a silly conversation to begin with, chalking it up to the mere fact that they were still in a dark forest, with dawn still several hours away. 

The foolish girl would end up a snack for another demon if she did not turn around and go home. 

“It was a demon. I’d been tracking it for several miles when it stumbled across you. You can count yourself lucky — do not hit me again.” He cut off with a warning, eyes narrowing as the Miko drew the broom back up over her head. 

There was a tense moment as the two regarded one another, Giyuu’s eyes locked on the Miko’s trembling arm as she stared distrustfully back at him. 

The girl’s hands twitched as the broom cleaved through the air once more, but Giyuu knocked it easily away, sending the cleaning tool flying uselessly to the side where it rolled under a bush. 

“Are you finished?” Giyuu asked, irritation creeping into his tone as he stared coolly at the flustered Miko. 

“You’ve stripped me of my only weapon, so I suppose I have no choice,” the young woman sniffed, her tone as frosty as his glare. 

Giyuu grimaced. “You would not have lost the privilege had you simply done as I asked.” 

The Miko folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and glowered at him. “You would truly leave a woman defenseless in the woods? With nothing to protect herself?”

Giyuu scoffed. “You are not a woman; you are a menace.” 

The young woman’s mouth opened and closed several times as her face flushed several shades deeper. “Y-you!” 

A crack! somewhere in the woods made the sputtering Miko fall silent with a small squeak, and Giyuu was bemused to find that the woman’s hands shot to him for safety, when only moments before she’d tried to clobber him away from her. 

“You said that…that thing earlier was a demon, yes?” She whispered and Giyuu nodded, tense as his eyes swept through the shadowy line of the trees, searching. 

“Do you think there are more?”

“So long as we continue sitting here like a pair of lame ducks, more are bound to come sniffing.” The wary Pillar replied. “Which is why I suggest you return home — without bludgeoning me further.”

The young Priestess continued to cling to his arm, her eyes wide and anxious. Giyuu cleared this throat, and when the woman’s attention snapped back to him, he pointedly glanced down at her white-knuckled grip on the sleeve of his haori. 

“Apologies,” the Miko blushed, and her hands quickly relinquished their hold on his sleeve. She wrung her hands nervously before her. “Might you escort me back to my Shrine? It’s not far from here – less than two kilometers.” 

Still within his territory — albeit at the opposite end of the forest where is own Manor stood. He grimaced, but nodded stiffly. His efforts to save the woman’s life would be in vain if she walked away from him and straight into the waiting, eager claws of another beast that lurked in the shadows.

The Miko smiled brightly at him and offered her name. Giyuu elected not to reply, and the girl settled into step at his side, a small frown pulling at her lips.

“I’m sorry for earlier — for hitting you with my broom.” The girl — Y/N — said a short while later, the faintest trace of shyness in her tone. 

Giyuu did not think the apology warranted a response, and so he gave none, but the chatty little devil prodded him once more. 

“Did I injure you?” She gestured to the side of his head where her broom had caught him. 

Giyuu snorted, raising an eyebrow at her. “The day I am hurt by a mere broom is the day I retire from the Demon Slayer Corps.” 

Y/N hummed in contemplation. “And what exactly is the great and mysterious Demon Slayer Corps?” 

The Water Pillar’s eyes remained forward. “I should think the name is self-explanatory. There are demons who eat humans. We slay them.” 

Inwardly, Giyuu cringed at the harshness of his words. It did not happen often, but there were times when he wished he was better with them, when he wished he did not come off quite as aloof and callous — 

“You do not know how to talk to people very well, do you Tomioka-sama?” Y/N’s tone was not judgmental; it rather had a mild curiosity to it, as though she were merely commenting on the weather or the quality of a cup of tea. 

But the Water Pillar did not know how to answer her. Kocho once told him that others disliked him, but Giyuu wasn’t sure that was entirely true; after all, no one had ever said so much to his face. 

Then again, if the young shrine maiden’s words were anything to go by, then perhaps the Insect Pillar’s scathing assessment hadn’t been too far off the mark. 

“What even brought you into the forest so late at night?”  Giyuu did not know why the question needled at him, but he found the pressing silence of the trees more disconcerting than the Miko’s voice, and so he was desperate for the distraction. “And why a broom?”

Y/N herself seemed surprised at his sudden interest. “Night-blooming herbs,” she said plainly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They are critical for certain rites and medications. And I cannot collect them any other time. The broom was for protection, obviously.” 

“I wasn’t aware shrines still performed rituals,” Giyuu pushed an errant tree branch out of their way, and ahead, faint lights began to swim into view. The Shrine. “Are you not a mere relic of a time long since-passed?” 

“I’ll have you know that we still perform basic cleansing rites for those in the village,” Y/N bristled. “And we provide medical aid, since there is no hospital nearby.”

She shot him a cold look. “Modern medicine would not have developed but for ancient practices such as ours.”

Giyuu frowned. He hadn’t meant to insult the woman. “Be that as it may,” he said flatly. “Demons prowl at night. You wandering into the forest none the wiser  is akin to you waltzing into their territory with a giant sign that says ‘Eat me.’”

Y/N grimaced. “Then what would you have me do? Neglect my duties?” 

He could sympathize with that. “No, I’m not saying you should forsake your obligations,” he furrowed his eyebrows at the thought. “Perhaps it is simply a risk you must take. But you should at least be aware of your surroundings.”

Y/N looked upon him with a miserable expression. “You’re of little help, you know that?” 

Giyuu only frowned, perplexed as to why she couldn’t understand the import of his words.

An awkward silence ensued, punctured only by the faint hoot of an owl. For that, the established swordsman was grateful; noise meant the absence of predators, which meant they were safe – for now. 

“You mentioned tracking the demon earlier – how long had you been doing so?” 

“A while.” 

The girl was relentless. “And you just so happened to track it here? Where it was conveniently chasing me?” 

“I patrol this region. Your rescue was nothing more than coincidence and luck on your part.” 

“My gratitude is endless,” the shrine maiden said drily. “Forgive me for not falling to the ground in prostration.”

At that, Giyuu fell silent and refused to engage in any further conversation. The shrine maiden, for her part, seemed to take his cue that he had no interest in her or exchanging meaningless pleasantries, and so she too, went quiet. 

The forest floor eventually began to slope gradually up, and before long, Giyuu found himself walking along a carved rock path that curved through the trees until it widened at a great set of stone stairs. At the very top of the steep incline, he could spot a great Torii gate.

Y/N turned to him with a beaming smile. “Allow me to introduce you to the Shrine." Tomioka opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly added, “You should at least know who it is you have dedicated your life to protecting.” 

“I’d rather not.”

But she was already leading him up the stairs, his wrist pinched delicately between two of her fingers. Realistically, Giyuu knew it would take him no effort to shake the woman’s hold and disappear into the night. But to his own bemusement, he allowed her to tote him behind her as though he were little more than a useless pet. 

The pair passed under the Torrii and into a sprawling courtyard. Though night sky was a deep, inky black, the perimeter of the courtyard was dotted with several stone lanterns -- toro -- each of which had been lit with a generous flame. Giyuu's quick perusal of the Shrine, however, was cut short as the Miko led him into the Shrine's main structure -- the honden -- and tugged him down a narrow hallway. Based on his rough appraisal of the building, Giyuu surmised she was taking him to the center of the honden, likely where the girl's master was.

His theory was proven correct when Y/N drew up to a great slat of shoji panneling. The Miko knocked softly on one of the wooden beams before she slid the door aside, revealing a great, open room that was littered with scrolls, half-dried pots of ink, and burned incense sticks. There, in the center of the room, knelt the head Priestess of the Shrine. She was an old, shriveled, wrinkled thing. The white hair that she’d gathered into a knot at her neck was as wispy as the thinnest clouds, and a quick glance over her hands revealed swollen joints covered by skin spotted with age.

But the Priestess did not appear to be a gentle elder by any means; her thin mouth was curled down into a sneer that was directed at the Miko at his side, and her eyes were hard and cold.  

"Head Priestess," Y/N bowed to her elder. "This man is called Tomioka, and he helped save me tonight in the forest."

Giyuu resisted the urge to snort. Helped, indeed.

The old woman's eyes shone bright with an emotion he could not name as the Miko continued. "A creature attacked me as I was returning home. Tomioka says he is a swordsman whose occupation --"

“I know what he is, girl,” the Priestess snapped at her student before she turned those beady eyes to him. “A member of the Demon Slayer Corps will always be welcome at this Shrine – particularly one as esteemed as yourself.” 

The Water Pillar straightened at the old woman’s casual mention of the Corps. “I was not aware that of any Shrines so affiliated with the Corps.” 

“There was a time when the Demon Slayer Corps would partner with shrines such as this to carry out its mission,” the Priestess replied evenly. From his periphery, Giyuu spotted Y/N’s head snap toward her mentor, her jaw slack. “Once, priestesses were akin to shamans who offered a variety of rituals for cleansing and protection. You slayers relied on our connection with our communities to operate more effectively, and we in turn, counted on your protection to fight what we could not.”

Despite the distinct scent of sake that clung to the elderly shrine keeper like a cloud, her eyes remained sharp and fixed upon him, and her wrinkled mouth pulled into a rueful smile. “Now, it seems, our wise and benevolent government has forced us both to retreat to the shadows to operate in secret.”

She bowed her head. “You have nothing but my respect, Lord Hashira. You are always welcome here.” 

Giyuu did not respond, but he inclined his head toward the Priestess in polite acknowledgement. 

Y/N gaped at her Master. "Lord --?"

The old woman poured another generous serving of sake and brought the choko to her lips. “Though we are honored by your visit, young Lord, I’m afraid your presence is nothing more than a calculated effort by this one,” she nodded pointedly at the young shrine maiden at his side, whose cheeks pinkened. “To keep herself out of trouble. My apprentice was not permitted to leave the grounds, you see.” 

“Oh hush you old drunk,” Giyuu’s eyes snapped to the irate Miko in surprise. “I told you earlier I was going to the village market –” 

“Telling me while I am in the middle of lessons with the younger girls and sprinting off before I can respond is hardly me giving you permission,” the Priestess’s mouth curled into a sneer. “You’ve defied me for the last time, girl.” 

The old Priestess turned away from her apprentice, dismissive. “You will take the rice bundles and hang them in the drying shed – every last one, for the next three days.” 

“You hag!” Y/N fumed, her face pinched in outrage. “I was on rice duty all last week without an ounce of assistance –” 

“And you apparently have yet to learn your lesson,” the old woman retorted bitterly, shooting the seething Shrine Maiden a withering glare. “Considering you still think it seemly to mouth off at any and every opportunity –” 

The Miko spat a curse at the elder Priestess so filthy and colorful that even Giyuu could not mask his surprise, raising his eyebrow. But if Y/N’s outburst shocked the Shrine’s head, the old woman gave no sign. Instead, she only glowered at the young woman as the latter turned and shoved the shoji door harshly to the side. Giyuu, ever the unwilling observer, was left to be pulled by his wrist back into the hall behind the young Miko before she whipped around to face her senior once more. 

Giyuu had thought himself stunned by the crassness of the Shrine Miaden’s language before, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the obscene gesture she made at the old woman before she slammed the door firmly shut. 

A telling crash on the other side of the wall signaled the Elder Priestess had hurled her empty sake dish at the door with all her might. “And work on your aim!” Y/N snapped before turning sharply on her heel to stomp out of the honden, tugging the Water Pillar helplessly behind her. 

“She seems unstable.” said Giyuu once they were a safe distance away from the main Honden. 

Y/N brushed aside his concern with a flippant waive of her hand. “Granny is harmless. As her charge, I suppose I instigate her nearly as much as she torments me.” 

Granny. It made sense, then, the curious affection the girl held for the rancorous head Priestess, even if he could not bring himself to fully understand it. 

“You are more than welcome to stay the night,” the Miko’s mood lightened considerably the more she put distance between herself and the drunken head Priestess. “We serve breakfast at sunrise, but of course, you’re not obligated to attend.” 

The ravenette’s mouth quirked down in a faint grimace, the only sign of his discomfort. “I should return to my own home.” 

“It’s quite late,” Y/N glanced up at the night sky, now awash with stars that surrounded the fat, glowing moon like thousands of glittering jewels. She turned back to him with a radiant grin. “At least allow me to show you around.”

—

If anyone had asked him, Giyuu Tomioka would not have been able to explain the series of events that had led him here. 

He distinctly remembered telling the vexatious young Shrine Maiden no, that he could not stay the night, yet somehow he’d found himself in the Shrine’s old, musty guest house, already prepared for his stay, a lantern flickering merrily in the corner. 

He glanced warily at the fresh sleeping kimono folded beside his futon. The possibility of him actually sleeping in such an unfamiliar place was nil and while the Water Pillar certainly had no issue in appearing impolite to others, he thought that perhaps the Shrine was affiliated with the connection of Wisteria Houses dotted throughout the land, and he didn’t want to risk offending the head Priestess and cause her to shut her gates to other slayers in need of lodging. 

So, Giyuu paced the floor of the small guest house, restless. Though his eyes remained carefully trained on the window of his room, waiting for the slightest hint of movement that would give him an excuse to leave without offending his hosts, no sign of either his crow or any demonic threat  manifested. Though, he supposed with a frown, it shouldn’t surprise him that he’d not heard from Kanzaburo; the ancient bird was likely flitting about the forest, lost.

He continued to pace until finally, the sky in the East began to lighten signaling that dawn was fast approaching. Stealthily, he slipped out of the small hut that had served as his temporary accommodations and made his way toward the Torii under which he and that Miko — Y/N — had passed upon their arrival.

He’d almost cleared the gate when he saw the elder Priestess standing beside the Torii, apparently waiting for him. Giyuu nodded his head at her, the only expression of courtesy he was willing to give, but he was halted as the old woman flung out a single arm in front of him, her hand flat and palm turned up, waiting.

And that was how Giyuu learned the Shrine was not, in fact, a Wisteria House; not as he was forced to fork over a considerable sum of his earnings into the Priestess’s expectant hand. 

Wisteria Houses meant Corps Members stayed free of charge; the price the Shrine’s keeper demanded in exchange for his brief stay bordered extortion.

At least he’d had the money; if he’d been of any lower rank, the old woman would have cleaned him out.  

He scowled as he departed but his irritation quickly fell away as he finally laid eyes on Kanzaburo, who nearly collided with his Master’s head as he struggled to pant out his orders. 

And so, as the Water Pillar trekked through the forest and toward his new assignment, the view of the Shrine faded behind the dense canopy of the mountain forest, and so too, did any final, sparing thoughts of it, or its inhabitants.

———-

Nearly a month passed since Giyuu stumbled across the strange shrine maiden in the forest separating his Estate from the old Shrine, and the Miko had nearly faded from his memory. Not that such a feat was difficult; the raven-haired Pillar’s mind was far more occupied with tasks like patrol and chasing down leads that could potentially lead the Corps to an Upper Rank demon to focus on much else. 

He’d intended only to find a decent meal and then depart the village before nightfall to investigate rumors of women disappearing in a small town to the south. Night was rapidly approaching, however, and he’d yet to find any vendor that sold anything he liked, much to his chagrin. He was about to cut his losses and continue on, when he spied a familiar blur of white and red idly perusing one of the stalls, apparently oblivious to the impending sunset. 

Without thought, his feet carried him toward her, his annoyance sparking to life. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

The Miko’s – Y/N’s – head turned back and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Pillar standing behind her. 

“Tomioka-sama,” she greeted with a polite bow. “I did not expect to see you so soon.” 

He ignored her greeting, choosing instead to take a step closer. “I asked what you were doing.” 

If she was taken aback by his terseness, she didn’t show it. “I am returning to my shrine after an afternoon of errands,” she replied smoothly. “As is usual for me.” 

“It is nearly dark.” 

“An astute observation,” and to his annoyance, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye. “Do you also know that tonight is also a full moon?” 

Said moon had already made an appearance above them, growing brighter and brighter as the sky faded from twilight to night. 

Giyuu had never been one for rolling his eyes, but the young woman’s knowing smirk grated at something inside him, made him feel as he often did whenever Kocho would make a sly comment with that smile of hers, that for some reason made him feel like he was the butt of some joke only she knew. 

He grimaced. Teasing; that’s what the shrine maiden was doing. She was teasing him. 

“It is nearly dark,” he repeated. “And I did not think you’d be naive enough to risk traveling after sunset.” 

“I believe it was you who insisted I did not have to ignore my duties, so long as I paid attention to my surroundings.” She replied coolly. “So that is exactly what I am doing.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Fine. If the stubborn girl wanted to be bait for whatever awaited her in the forest once the sun finally set, then that was her choice. He’d saved her once, and he’d given her sufficient warning; what she did from then on did not concern him. 

He was about to bade her farewell when a slurred, boisterous voice boomed her name from across the market. Several heads turned toward the source, including Giyuu's, until he found a round faced, piggish man stumbling away from a sake stand, his cheeks flushed a bright red.

The man repeated the Miko's name in that grating, sing-song voice of his. "Whe're you goin' all by yourself so late?"

He didn't know what possessed him to ask, but Tomioka turned to the shrine maiden. "A friend?"

“His name is Susumo,” she said airily, though she could not conceal her scowl as the man drew closer. “He’s merely the village drunk who forgets to keep his hands to himself.”

The shrine maiden’s eyes narrowed accusingly at the villager, and the Miko remarked, in a raised voice, “And he is not welcome at the Shrine, though he pretends to forget otherwise.”

Susumo only held his hands up, as though in surrender. “You can’t blame a man for wanting to know what lies under all those layers,” and as if the implication of his lechery wasn’t clear enough, he gave the Miko a leering once-over. “Can’t say I was disappointed.” 

“But your friend is right,” he slurred, a smirk forming on his lips. “The dark is too dangerous for a pretty thing like you to risk walking back alone —“

“I shall escort her,” Tomioka said abruptly and she whipped back to him, her mouth falling open. “After all, I’m welcome at the Shrine.” 

Susumo, too, gaped at the Swordsman. The Miko recovered quickly however, unwilling to allow the opportunity to pass or for the Slayer to suddenly come to his senses and realize he’d rather leave her to fend for herself in the forest. 

“You have my gratitude, Tomioka-sama,” and she gave him a small bow of her head. Relieved, she flipped her braid over her shoulder and smiled warmly up at her raven-haired companion. “Shall we?”

She did not wait for Tomioka to answer, nor did she give any further acknowledgment to Susumo, who only continued to stare at the Hashira, his face bright red. With a feigned indifference, she breezed past him, but a sudden yelp from behind caused her to snap back in alarm. 

The first thing she noticed was the proximity of the back of a dual-patterned haori as it stood between her and the village drunkard. The Water Pillar’s shroud nearly brushed the tip of her nose, forcing her to step back. Cautiously, she peered around Tomioka’s rigid form, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. 

Susumo, it appeared, had tried to grab her, only to be cut off by the Water Pillar himself, who snatched him by his wrist. Though it did not appear that Tomioka was using a great deal of effort to restrain him, it was clear Susumo was struggling — greatly so — against the ferocity of the Slayer’s hold, given how a vein bulged in his forehead, his face,  rapidly turning purple. 

Her gaze flicked to the Swordsman’s hand, and she felt herself blanch at the odd angle of Susumo’s wrist. 

She was no doctor, but she knew wrists weren’t meant to twist as his did in Tomioka’s crushing grip. 

“Leave.” the Water Pillar ordered coldly, and there was a darkness in his eyes that matched the brutality of his hold. “Your presence is unnecessary and unwanted.”

“Y-you! Susumo sputtered.

But Tomioka’s grip only tightened. “Now.”

And then he released him, Susumo half-stumbling back from the Swordsman. His eyes were wide with both fear and loathing, and he muttered incoherently under his breath as he massaged his rapidly-swelling wrist.

The Water Pillar, however, did not pay any more attention to the red-faced villager. He turned only to the shrine maiden, who remained frozen in place, her eyes wide. "Shall we?"

Numbly, Y/N nodded and the two set off down the path that led back to the Shrine. Dimly, the Miko noted that the Slayer kept noticeably close to her as they walked, as though he was unwilling to let her wander too far away. The air between them as they traveled was thick and tense. She was on edge enough thanks to Susumo and his oily words, and she was desperate to do anything to distract herself from the buzzing mounting under her skin. 

She cast a sly, sidelong glance at the Swordsman walking at her side. He’d not been receptive to her small-talk the last time he’d escorted her back to her Shrine, but saying something — anything — would be better than this stifling quiet threatening to choke her.

“How old are you?” Before the Swordsman could decide whether to answer, she continued on. “If I had to guess, I would suspect you’re around my age, and I just passed my nineteenth birthday.”

She hummed aloud. “You seem quite young, yet you’ve achieved some level of status as a swordsman, according to Granny.” Her eyes fell to the blade secured at his hip before she lifted them back to his profile. “Yet you’re as withdrawn and taciturn as an old man.” 

Her words, thankfully, seemed to irritate him into responding. “Are you always so forthright?”  

The Miko grinned. “Perhaps I am like you, Lord – what was it? Hashiba?”

“Hashira.” 

“Yes, that. Perhaps I am like you, Lord Hashira – utterly lacking in social ability.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she brushed her shoulder against his bicep. “But at least I make up for it by talking.” 

“Talking is a distraction,” Tomioka monotoned, his eyes fixed resolutely on the hidden path of the forest before them. “It only serves as an interference to one’s duties.” He looked pointedly at the Miko’s profile, but inexplicably found himself unable to look away. “Or an excuse to ignore them.” 

But she was unflappable. “And yet you are the one who decided to escort me all the way back to my Shrine – so who is the one ignoring their duties, Tomioka-sama?” 

“I think you enjoy diverting my attention,” the Water Pillar retorted, though Y/N could see the rising annoyance in his eyes. 

She felt his gaze bear into her as she flipped her loose hair behind her shoulder. “It’s not possible to distract someone unless they find the diversion in question captivating, Tomioka-sama.” 

The Water Pillar almost looked amused. “And you are certainly that, Y/N.” 

The Miko ducked her head to avoid that piercing gaze, so that the ravenette would not see the faint rosy blush creeping across her cheeks. “I did not think you had the constitution for teasing, Lord Hashira.” 

Tomioka looked at her fully then, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do not jest.” He hesitated for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he scrutinized her. “Nor do I lie.” 

Y/N’s lips parted. There was something about the way the Swordsman beheld her that made her stomach flutter. In her last encounter with the enigmatic Slayer, she’d been so rattled by her close encounter with the demon, that she hadn’t truly noticed much about the man who’d saved her life, apart from his bland detachment and rather unfortunate social skills. 

But now, the Miko was struck by how handsome the raven-haired Hashira was; she was mesmerized by the deep azure of his eyes, as vast and deep as the sea. His skin was a delicate alabaster, and, contrasted with the flesh of his hands which were calloused and scarred, his face had not a blemish in sight.

She blinked, clearing away some of the fog that had crept into her mind, put there by the vexatious Slayer. “I must return to my duties,” she said softly.

They spent the remainder of their journey back to the Shrine in silence. She was quick to break away from him the moment they passed under the Torii, though not before she muttered that he was welcome to stay, should he so choose.

She busied herself with her duties, but even the neediest obligations could not fully distract her from feeling the burning heat of his stare as the Water Pillar’s watched her fiercely from across the courtyard. And nothing, nothing at all could have prepared her for how he eventually  joined her in carrying out her duties, 

The Water Pillar stayed the night once more, departing sharply at daybreak. Later, as Y/N swept the courtyard free of loose brush and clutter long after his departure, she noticed a crow sitting high in a tree, its black eyes watching her every movement. Though its gaze was sharp, the presence of the great, sleek bird did not disturb her, though not as much of a feather twitched from its perch upon the branch as the Miko continued through her day. 

As she’d readied for bed later that night, she realized she’d felt oddly comforted by the crow. She imagined it a silent protector, a new guardian of the Shrine, no different than the statues of the gods which dotted its grounds. 

She settled into her futon with a great yawn, the image of a certain dark-haired Swordsman flickering in the back of her conscience until she was swept into sleep’s sweet embrace.

Just outside the Shrine’s sleeping quarters, the bird remained, eyes carefully tracking every shift in the shadows, waiting. 

And then the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, and the threat of night receded once more.

But the crow remained. 

———

Spring, 1915

The crow became a permanent fixture at the Shrine, though it always seemed to keep strictly to a single tree at the edge of the property, one that gave it a full view of the courtyard and structures surrounding the main honden.

Despite the bird's constant presence, more than a month passed before the Water Pillar returned, though he'd seemed even more sullen and withdrawn than he'd been during their previous two encounters. Y/N did not consider herself a friend to Tomioka by any means, but she was the only one brave enough to approach him as he'd lingered by the Torii, apparently unsure whether he should seek out their hospitality or return to the forest.

"You are welcome to come and sit for a hot meal," she called cordially, though she maintained a tentative distance. She frowned when he did not respond. Instead, the Water Pillar continued to stare unseeingly at the cracked stone path leading to the Shrine's courtyard.

"Tomioka-sama?" She pressed gently and the Swordsman's attention finally snapped to her, as though he'd just become aware of her presence.

The haunted look in his eyes sent a chill up her spine. The Miko cast one, cautious glance up at the sky, and her eyes narrowed at the wall of black clouds steadily rolling in from the east. A shift in the wind brought forth the distinct, metallic scent of rain, and if she listened hard enough, she swore she could hear the distant rumbles of thunder. “You know, there will be a storm tonight — please consider waiting it out here, where it’s safe.”

Tomioka only stared at her for a moment before he nodded. His hand twitched into a vague gesture inviting her to lead the way, and Y/N escorted him to the Shrine's elder, in search of her permission.

Granny Priestess agreed to let him stay, but on the condition he paid for his imposition. The Water Pillar had silently agreed, producing one small money bag from his pocket and placing it squarely in the Priestess’s outstretched, waiting hand. 

The heft of the bag had made Y/N frown; it seemed a great sum in comparison to their meager lodging offerings, but the Swordsman did not object, so she held her tongue. To comment would only serve to irritate her Master, and the old hag was scornful enough to assign her to duties that would isolate her from the raven-haired Slayer.

Only after the old Priestess sauntered off, leaving behind nothing but the lingering, bitter stench of sake, did the Miko speak again. 

“I’m glad to see you in good health, Tomioka-sama,” she bowed, though she thought she spied the corner of his mouth twitch down at her formal greeting. “I trust your patrol went smoothly?” 

The Water Pillar’s expression was tight; dark. “It did not. The demon I was tracking managed to get away.” His jaw clenched tight. “But not before it slaughtered an entire family in the mountains.” 

All at once, the world around her seemed to slow. It had been easy to assume the dark-haired Swordsman before her always managed to find his target just in time, before it could slaughter its victim. Now, as she beheld the lethal coldness that had settled over his features, Y/N knew her assumptions had been wrong. 

Perhaps, she noted with a shudder, her rescue had been the exception and not the rule. 

Beneath the icy stoicism limning the Water Pillar’s eyes, the shrine maiden noted a distinct heaviness that weighed down his shoulders; made them curl slightly forward, defeated.

She resisted the urge to reach out to him, in comfort. “I won’t offer you empty platitudes,” she murmured. “But I can invite you to offer your prayers for those who were lost.” 

He looked at her, brows drawn, and she knew his instinct was to decline, so she added, “I will do it regardless of whether you join me.”

All at once, any protest he had was snuffed out within him. Instead, he was left with a curious softness as he regarded the shrine maiden, so assured and earnest in her invitation. 

He didn’t know why he’d sought out the Shrine.

He’s been angry; angry at himself for not being faster, for allowing innocent people to die on his account of his failure.

He still felt angry. Yet, as he followed Y/N into the Shrine’s haiden to light incense, he also felt a solemn gratitude for the Miko, who’d not let him indulge in his self-loathing but instead requested he act, and act with her. 

So he had; and somehow, the weight on his chest, the one that threatened to suffocate him, lightened bit by bit until Giyuu felt like he could breathe once more. 

Later that night, Giyuu spotted the shrine maiden from his window as she darted around the courtyard to light the tōrō to illuminate the Shrine grounds. A deep rumble of thunder, however, signaled the spring storm had finally arrived. Y/N, however, only continued with her task, huddling over herself to strike the matches needed to finish lighting the lanterns as rain began to dampen the landscape around her.

He was about to go outside and demand she return to the warm, dry haven that was the girls’ sleeping quarters lest she catch a cold, but then the last of the lanterns were lit and the shrine maiden straightened.

And then she tilted her face up toward the sky, allowing the rain to wash over her. 

And she grinned. And Giyuu was mesmerized; so much so, that he had not stopped staring at where she’d stood, laughing in the rain, even long after the Miko retired to bed.

-

Y/N awoke well before sunrise the following morning and spent hours laboring over the hot stoves in the kitchen. By the time the sky finally lightened, she'd only just finished her task and was in the process of boxing up her creation when she spotted one of her fellow shrine maidens passing by the entryway.

The Miko called out her name. "Has Lord Tomioka awoken yet?"

Her sister trainee lingered in the doorway. "Oh yes, he's been up for a while," and the girl looked back over her shoulder. “But he is already on his way out —“

The Miko swore viciously under her breath as she slammed a lid atop the small bento and hastily wrapped it in the small cloth she’d swiped from the laundry. 

“Move,” she barked at a small group of trainees that had gathered in the hallway outside the kitchen. The girls flattened themselves against the wall as Y/N sped by. She hurtled up the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste. Just as she burst into the courtyard from the honden, panting and winded, she spotted him.

“Tomioka-sama!” Y/N called, hurrying after the retreating form of the Water Pillar before he could pass through the shrine gates. “I have something for you!” 

The raven-haired slayer turned back to her, his face neutral, though Y/N could tell, by the slightest raise of his brow, that she’d piqued his interest. 

“Thank goodness you hadn’t left yet,” the Miko said brightly, holding out a small bundle wrapped in furoshiki cloth. “I was worried this wouldn’t be ready before you did.”

Tomioka’s eyes dropped to the parcel in her hands. “What is it?” 

Y/N motioned for him to take it, and to her slight surprise he did, holding it slightly in front of him as though it were liable to burst open. “A meal for the road. Granny and I prepared it this morning — as thanks, for everything you’ve done.” 

But the Water Pillar was already shaking his head, trying to press the package back into the shrine maiden’s hands. “I need no thanks; I do my job, and your shrine happens to be part of it.” 

If his words disappointed her, Y/N did not show it. “And yet we are grateful all the same,” she said firmly, arms crossing in front of her chest to avoid taking the small bento back. “Besides, it’s salmon; it will only go bad if you don’t eat it.” 

Had she not been watching him, Y/N would have missed the slight widening of his eyes, or the way his hand twitched back towards himself, bringing the packed lunch closer to him. 

Cerulean eyes watched her for a long moment, before dropping as Tomioka tucked the bento into his pocket. 

“Thank you,” was all he said before he turned away and continued through the gates of the shrine, setting off on the path which would lead him through the forest. 

If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve sworn the Water Pillar looked happy as he departed. 

———

The Slayer returned exactly one week after she’d given him the home-cooked salmon – but he did not return empty-handed. For there, wrapped in the same furoshiki cloth, was a strange, oblong object, sitting in the palm of his hand though if he thought it heavy, Tomioka gave no indication. 

“What’s this?” Y/N leaned curiously over the Pillar’s outstretched hand and squinted, trying to discern what the cloth could have been concealing. 

Tomioka pushed his hand toward her, beseeching her to take the parcel from him. “A knife.” 

The Shrine Maiden looked up at him in alarm, pulling away from the Water Pillar. “Why on earth would I need a knife?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Protection.” 

“From what?” The Miko wrinkled her nose down at his offering, though there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “As I recall, I walloped you just fine with my broom.”

Tomioka shot her a dull look. “Be that as it may, cleaning tools are useless against demons. Without the sun, the only thing that works against them is decapitation with this — its metal is unique.” 

He parted the folds of the cloth to reveal a simple blade, though Y/N found it daunting all the same. The hilt was basic, an unembellished metal handle wrapped in plain black leather. The blade itself was an unassuming silver, slightly longer than her hand. 

The Slayer motioned for her to take it, though she only shrunk away. “You know how to use one, yes?” 

The Miko’s eyes met his, wide and anxious. “For domestic uses, of course, but not –” 

Tomioka’s fingers closed around her wrist and lifted, guiding her hand toward the dagger. His hand moved to cover hers, wrapping them both around the hilt of the blade before squeezing. “Grip it like this,” he held their joined hands up for her to inspect. “Keep your hand in a fist; do not lift your fingers away from the grip – that’s the best way to injure yourself instead of your target.” 

But the shrine maiden could hardly focus on the Pillar’s instructions. Her attention was directed entirely at the way her hand was swallowed by his, his skin warm and his grasp firm. She studied how his calluses – thick and forged from years of brutal sword training – pressed against hers; how, despite the roughness of his fingers and palms, and his solid hold still remained gentle. 

“-- and thrust like this,” he remained oblivious to her distraction as moved her arm in a sharp jab, a second and then a third time, before dropping her hand.  “Now do it yourself.” 

His command startled her out of her trance, a heat creeping up her neck from beneath the collar of her kosode. She held out the blade awkwardly before her as scrambled to recall the Water Pillar’s words. To her dismay, all she was able to conjure was the memory of his touch, and how cold she suddenly felt without it. 

Lamely, she mimed jutting the knife at an invisible enemy, the blade gracelessly wobbling through the air. Though she was by no means a swordsman, even she knew something was off, her movements disjointed and clumsy.

She glanced shyly back to the raven-haired Demon Slayer and deflated as she was met only with bemused resignation.

Tomioka shook his head in disdain. “Perhaps you would fare better with a broom.” 

The Miko bristled. “I am not a swordsman —“

“You’ve made that abundantly apparent.” 

“— and I do not have the basics you seem to take for granted.” She finished, glaring indignantly at her raven-haired companion. “So teach me.”

The Water Pillar considered her for a moment before he gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible nod of his head. 

“Watch me.” He turned his body toward the Miko and mimed getting into a defensive stance — feet ajar, his weight evenly distributed on each leg, and bent. 

He looked back to the Shrine Maiden expectantly, and she parroted his movements, crouching into what she imagined was the perfect mirror of his position.

It wasn’t.

“No — you need to—“ Tomioka straightened and huffed, impatient. He moved quickly behind her, and without thinking, his hands shot to grip her hips to guide them into the proper stance, until her weight was evenly distributed on both feet. 

“Like that — now bend your knees.” The ravenette pushed down on her hips until her legs bent, apparently oblivious to the way the Miko flushed crimson.

He was close; far, far too close. She’d never been touched the way the Water Pillar touched her. Tomioka’s hands were twin brands, burning her skin even through the layers of her shrine attire, and it sent every nerve beneath her skin buzzing.

She was aware of every inch of him pressed against her; of his arms, caging her in, his hands twin brands against her hips as he turned and pulled her into the proper stance. She was aware of how warm he was, of how formidable his presence felt, even though to her, he posed no threat. Every movement of his was precise and fluid, like the water he’d claimed to style his techniques after.

And if his touch wasn’t distracting enough, his scent threatened to overwhelm every last bit of sense she’d clung onto. Y/N didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed how good he smelled — like mahogany and citrus — so rich and so warm; a stark contrast to his otherwise cold and aloof nature mask.

The swordsman, however, appeared to remain oblivious. “There,” he finally said, having satisfied that she’d achieved proper form. For moment, the two of them lingered there, with Tomioka’s chest against the shrine maiden’s back, his hands remaining steady in place on her hips. It was as though they’d frozen: Y/N, out of a mixture of shock and red-cheeked embarrassment, and Tomioka out of utter cluelessness.

Another beat passed before the Water Pillar finally realized the compromising nature of their position. His hands dropped quickly from her hips, and there was a rush of air at Y/N’s back as he swiftly stepped away, putting distance between them once more. 

The raven-haired Slayer gruffly cleared his throat. “You should also keep wisteria on you.” And Y/N gulped down her embarrassment to turn back toward him. 

Tomioka kept his face neutral and cool, but the tips of his ears had turned pink. “Check your perfumes for it or ask one of the other shrine girls if you can borrow theirs – oil would be better. More concentrated”

Any residual awkwardness that may have lingered fell quickly away. The Miko only stared blankly at him, her head tilted slightly to the side as her eyebrows pinched together. “Perfume?”

Tomioka blinked. “Yes. As all women have.” 

It was an effort to fight off the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. “Exactly how many women do you know, Tomioka-sama? Such that you would know their perfumery habits, that is.” 

His mouth thinned into a firm line. “Enough.” 

And though Y/N supposed he’d meant to sound self-assured and confident, the Slayer was betrayed by the slight doubt in his voice, as though he’d been questioning his own answer. 

The shrine maiden only continued to look at him, her eyebrow slightly raised, amused. The longer the silence stretched between them,the more awkward the ravenette grew, his discomfort plain from the way he shifted under her stare. 

“You seem like someone who would use it.” He finally offered, after another moment of quiet.

It was her turn to blink, taken aback. Her smirk quickly slid from her face and with a grimace, she felt her right eye twitch, ever so slightly. “Apologies, then, for disappointing you.” 

Tomioka frowned and he made like he was going to respond, but the Miko squared her shoulders and stalked briskly past him. 

“I must return to my duties, and I’m sure you need to do the same,” she paused in the doorway of the garden hut and cast one, sidelong glance back to where he stood, clueless. “Until next time, Tomioka-sama. Thank you for the blade.”

With that, the Miko paced briskly away from the garden hut, her spine stiff. The Water Pillar remained in place for a moment, stupefied, before he collected himself once more, before setting off back toward the forest; to his Manor.

And as Giyuu retreated through the rusting Torii gate, he could not quite shake the distinct impression he’d done something wrong, though he knew not what. 

–

The Water Pillar returned the following week, though to a decidedly cooler greeting than that which he’d steadily grown accustomed to receiving. 

That wasn’t entirely true — the majority of the Shrine’s residents had welcomed him warmly, their kindness always far more than he thought he deserved. Only one hadn’t greeted him as enthusiastically as the others, and to his annoyance, that one was the only person whose opinion of him mattered, even if he couldn’t quite articulate why.

She hardly stopped to acknowledge his arrival, only gracing him with a brisk nod, though she’d refused to meet his eyes. Bemused, Giyuu followed her across the courtyard as she made her way to the Shrine’s small storeroom. He leaned against the doorway and watched as the Miko began pulling jars of dried herbs from the rickety shelves lining the walls and stacked them on a sizeable work counter that cut halfway across the room. All the while, she continued pointedly ignoring him, humming lightly under her breath as though she could not see or hear him as he shifted against the doorframe, waiting.

Her obstinate silence grated at him. “May I assist you?”

“No, no, I am perfectly fine, thank you.” She turned away to browse the shelves once more, before finding what she needed: a stone mortar and pestle.

The grinder settled against the wooden counter with a heavy thud and the shrine maiden snatched up one of the jars she’d stacked and dumped its contents into the bowl, followed by another bottle of herbs. Pestle in hand, she set to work grinding the leaves together, mixing in a vial of fragrant oil she’d kept in her pocket to create a thick paste.

Giyuu watched her quietly as she worked. “You’re…” he frowned. “You’re behaving strangely.”

Y/N glanced up at him. “In what way?” 

“You’re trying to avoid me.” 

“Am I?” She straightened, rolling her shoulders. “Only because I’ve not yet bathed today. I didn’t want to risk offending you with my stench.” 

Giyuu paused. “Why would that matter?” 

“You made sure to point out you thought I needed perfume during your last visit.” 

He pushed off the doorframe, eyebrows knit together. “For protection.” 

The shrine maiden rolled her eyes. “Yes, and apparently, because you believe I am the type to need it.” When Giyuu only continued to stare at her with that same, mildly lost expression, Y/N groaned, exasperated. “You implied I stink.” 

The Water Pillar’s jaw slackened as he gaped at her. “That is not –” 

“It is what you implied,” she repeated, turning away from him to focus on her task of grinding herbs, though the force with which she ground the pestle was perhaps greater than necessary.

Giyuu rounded the small countertop of the Shrine’s storeroom to face her head-on. “I like how you smell.” He insisted. “It’s nice.” 

The Miko’s irritated churning of the stone paused and her eyes finally lifted to his. For a long moment, she watched him, head slightly cocked. 

“You are very odd, Tomioka-sama.” 

But she said it with a small smile that he almost wanted to return. 

Before long, things between them returned to normal once more, with the Miko directing him to collect her gathering basket from where she’d left it in the Shrine’s infirmary and bring it to her. Once he returned, he helped her grind charcoal to make incense sticks as she chatted happily away. 

Surprisingly, Giyuu found himself not only engaged in her musings about daily life at the Shrine, but offering her small personal anecdotes of his own, though he was not nearly as proficient as she when it came to story-telling.  

Once the sun began setting once more, and he received no new orders from Headquarters, he simply sought out the Shrine’s head Priestess and silently passed her a small money bag. 

And then Giyuu retired to the guest’s quarters for the night. 

—--

As spring warmed into summer, the Water Pillar began making bi-weekly visits to the Shrine that quickly melted into habit; expectation. Once a fortnight, a thrill would settle over the young maidens in anticipation of the arrival of the stoic yet handsome Slayer, with girls of all ages eagerly looking toward the Shrine gates in hopes of spying him the moment he crossed beneath the Torii. The elder employees of the Shrine had learned to time Tomioka’s arrival by listening for their excited gasps, exhaled as a collective as brooms and rices sacks were dropped where their handlers stood, the girls far too interested in rushing to greet the exalted Slayer than they were in completing their tasks. 

“I do not see the reason for such excitement,” she sniffed, though even she wasn’t stupid enough to think her fellow trainees bought her bluff. “He is only a swordsman.” 

“A handsome one,” a wispy trainee named Miyoko sighed dreamily. “And no doubt strong and capable.”

The group of maidens dissolved into another fit of giggles, concealing their blushes behind their hands.

“His face is attractive, but his hair is odd,” another commented. “It looks like he’s hacked at it with his own blade.” 

“Oh, who cares about his hair? I’m far more interested in what’s beneath that uniform —“

“Enough,” Y/N snapped. While her friendship with the Water Pillar was tenuous  at best, the suggestive way her sisters-in-training spoke of him left her feeling decidedly discomforted.

Though, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she, too, wondered whether Tomioka’s strength was the product of a finely-hewn tuned physique. But she wasn’t, so she bottled that thought up and tucked it tightly away, where it belonged. 

Slowly, her cohorts all turned to look at her.

“You seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister,” Miyoko directed at Y/N, who felt her cheeks heat. “Is there anything you’d like to share?”

“Tomioka-sama always asks where Sister Y/N is, the moment he arrives!” A tiny voice chimed, and Y/N’s eyes slid shut in an effort to fight off a wince.  “Sometimes they even do chores by themselves!”

Komatsu. At only ten, she was the Shrine’s youngest trainee, and followed Y/N around like a shadow. Not that the shrine maiden minded all that much; she tended to spoil the girl a bit, when she could. But as pure as the girl’s intentions surely were, she’d yet to lose that childlike earnestness that made her prone to revealing information that Y/N rather remained a secret. 

“Alone with a man?” Miyoko repeated, her eyes shining with malicious glee. “How scandalous — even for someone without a family to embarass, dear Y/N.”

“Careful, Miyoko,” she warned softly. “Don’t go speaking on matters of which you know nothing.” 

“Or what? What would you do?” 

As fond as Y/N was of her sisters-in-training, one did not make it through the Shrine’s rigorous education and training without learning how to trade in the kind of currency young women valued most.

Information; specifically, gossip. 

So the shrine maiden only leveled Miyoko’s own smug smirk with one of her own. “Or I shall tell Granny how you spend your afternoons kissing the boys from the village, rather than tending to your lessons.” 

The other girls gasped, their stares turning back to the gossiping shrine maiden. She savored how quickly the girl’s prideful grin slipped from her face as the weight of the threat settled. 

While Y/N, parentless and thus without anyone to truly care about her propriety, was being primed to take over Granny Priestess’s position overseeing the shrine, her position was unique. She was parentless and thus, without anyone to truly care about her propriety or whatever other ridiculous expectations of modesty that were often attached to other young women her age. In being no one, Y/N was relatively free to do as she pleased, and that freedom almost made up for her lack of belonging.

But the other girls residing at the Shrine were different. Families across the region sent their daughters to the Shrine for training, not only in their cultural practices and arts, but also for education; to become well-rounded women who would then serve to be valuable marriage prospects once they returned home. 

Scandal would not affect her; but it would affect someone like Miyoko.

“How do you think your parents would feel, to know their heir was behaving so brazenly in public? Risking her reputation on the marriage market before she’s even entered it?”

Truthfully, she liked Miyoko; had gotten along well with her, in fact. But she would not risk those sacred few moments she spent with the Water Pillar in an effort to keep the peace with another trainee. Not when those few instances she spent in his company were the only times she’d felt connection — true, human connection and belonging. 

Her sister-in-training ruefully fell silent, and Y/N savored her victory. Later, when she was left with nothing but the company of her own thoughts, however, the exchange played back in her mind.

In all her posturing, she’d managed to avoid having to answer for Miyoko’s lofty observation. 

You seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister. 

She did; and, to her slight horror, she realized that she had no interest in stopping. 

She only wanted more.

–

It was past dawn when Giyuu trudged under the great Torii gate of the Shrine, exhausted and aching. 

It had been a long while since a demon was last capable of wounding him, but he’d been blown backward by a delayed attack that hit after he’d beheaded the damn thing. As a result, he’d been sent flying back, slamming through a dilapidated wall of the abandoned hut he’d tracked the creature to, resulting in a sizeable gash to his shoulder. 

He grit his teeth in mild annoyance. He would need some treatment of his wounds — not that they were deep by any means, but they were substantial enough that he knew infection could spell trouble for him, should it spread. 

Some small, irate voice in his head snidely reminded him he could have just as easily gone to the Butterfly Mansion for treatment — that, in fact, the Insect Pillar’s estate had been much closer to the location of his mission than the Shrine had been. He’d rationed that, as much as he admired and respected Kocho, he was still a bit raw from her mocking about how unliked he truly was among his comrades. 

Besides, he groused. Kocho was not the one he really wanted to see, anyway. 

He found Y/N in the Shrine’s storeroom, seated upon the floor with a detailed ledger spread out before her as she took inventory of various scrolls and texts.

Giyuu did not bother to announce himself. “You have medical training, do you not?”  

The Miko startled, the charcoal stick she’d been using to tally the ledger clattering to the floor. She blinked up at him in surprise. “Tomioka-sama — welcome, it’s been a few weeks — forgive me, I did not see you come in.” She quickly rose to her feet, shutting the store ledger and tucking it under her arm. 

Her eyes found the blood-stained shoulder of his hair and widened. “I have some; I can stitch and dress wounds —“

He nodded. “Then I require your assistance.” 

—-

Y/N led him to a small office inside the honden that served as the Shrine’s unofficial infirmary.  “Take a seat,” she nodded at a small stool that sat under the room’s solitary window, right by a modest working table. “Let me see what we have.” 

Tomioka sat upon the stool with his back to her as she busied herself sifting through cupboards in search of supplies. “What sort of wound is it?”

She turned back and nearly dropped a tin of medicinal salve she’d located as she beheld the Water Pillar strip himself of his clothing from the waist up. 

There, across his right shoulder blade, she saw it — saw his blood. Quickly, she located thread and a needle and she grabbed a roll of cloth that could double as wrappings and she crossed back across the room.  

She spread her bounty out across the table, right beside the neatly folded pile of his clothing. Silently, she set to work cleaning the gash, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she saw that it was little more than a shallow flesh wound.

“Lucky you, this won’t need stitching,” she said lightly as she wiped away the last of the dried blood from the Water Pillar’s skin. “But I shall need to wrap it so it won’t become infected.”

Tomioka only gave her a curt nod. She stepped back to work open her tin of medical salve, and as she warmed the substance in her hands, she let herself fully examine the Swordsman sitting before her. Her eyes trailed over the sculpted planes of his back. It surprised her how muscular he was, given his leanness. Yet, without the layers of his uniform shirt and haori, she could see he was well-built, each muscle defined. 

She didn’t know why it surprised her that there was a man beneath the mask of the Slayer, but what a man he was. Her mouth went dry at the thought. It was an effort not to allow her eyes to wander lower; to ponder what he might look like under his uniform pants, stripped and fully bare before her — 

“What is that scent?” Tomioka’s sudden question startled her away from her increasingly treacherous thoughts. 

She’d never been more grateful to be facing away from him. That way, he could not see the blush coloring her cheeks as she hastily slathered the salve across his wound. “Anti-septic; I know it’s rather stringent, but — ”

The Water Pillar shook his head. “I know what antiseptic smells like. I mean you. The scent you wear.” 

She pursed her lips for a moment before she recalled the distinctly floral scent of her cleansing oils. “Sakaki blooms, I suppose.”

“What properties does it have — what are its effects on others?” He pressed. She was surprised at how insistent he seemed, and there was almost an urgency in his tone that unsettled her. 

“None, to my knowledge — why do you ask?”

The tips of Tomioka’s ears turned pink and he turned away from her, lips pressed into a firm line. “Forget I said anything.” he muttered after a moment, his shoulders and spine stiff.

Neither one of them spoke again as Y/N finished treating the Water Pillar’s  injury and wrapped it. 

“You're done,” she said after a moment, tapping him lightly on his other shoulder. 

“You have my thanks,” Tomioka quickly refastened the buttons of his uniform shirt as the Miko stepped aside, pointedly wiping her hands clean with a small cloth. She only looked at him once he lifted his haori from where he’d carefully laid it atop the small examination table, but her eyes narrowed as he rose from the stool, shrugging the material back over his shoulders. “I am happy to pay you for the resources you used —“ 

Y/N did not appear to be listening, not as she leaned forward and pinched the sleeve of his haori between her thumb and index finger. 

“You have a tear,” she frowned, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “Right here, see?” 

There, on the side bearing his sister’s half of his haori, right where his sleeve met his shoulder, was indeed a small hole, the threads around it broken and shifting slightly in the wind. 

The Miko’s hand fell away, and she squared her shoulders, mouth set in a firm but determined line. “If you’ll give me a moment, I assure you I can have it repaired in no time –” 

“Not necessary,” the Swordsman said abruptly, twisting back from her. “I can figure it out on my own.” He would not part with it, would not so much as let another put their hands on it and risk ruining his most cherished possession. 

Y/N only stepped toward him, ignoring his attempt at distance. “There’s no need to be prideful,” she huffed impatiently. “Truly, it would take no effort at all –”

“No.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” She snapped, but her hands continued reaching for him, for his sleeve – 

Tomioka snatched her wrist mid-air and held it there, halting her. “No one touches this. Understand?” 

Y/N’s lips parted in faint surprise at the Water Pillar’s severity. Her eyes darted to where his fingers were locked tight – uncomfortably tight – around her wrist. When she glanced back at the stone-faced Slayer, she felt a chill lick down her spine. She’d known he could be intimidating against threats, even without saying a word. It was his eyes – his eyes would harden, with the lapiz hue of his irises darkening to something more akin to indigo, as he stared down an opponent. She’d witnessed it the very first night she’d met him. 

She just hadn’t thought she would ever be on the receiving end of such a cold glare. 

“I understand,” she said softly, and she began flexing her wrist against his grip in an effort to work herself free from his hold. “Please forgive my indiscretion, Tomioka-sama. I overstepped.” 

The raven-haired Slayer blinked and quickly let her go, her wrist falling limply back to her side. Just outside the infirmary’s small window, he heard the familiar, urgent cry of a crow.

He’d never been more grateful for a distraction.  “I must be on my way.” His tone was stiff; clipped. 

“But — you’ve only just arrived —“ 

“Farewell, Y/N.” Giyuu gave her a curt nod.

Helplessly, the Miko watched as the Water Pillar stalked out of the small office, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He did not so much as spare a glance back, leaving Y/N to wonder whether she would see that odd patterned haori again.

The thought she might not made something cold and heavy sink into her gut.

—-

(One week later)

It wasn’t often that Giyuu Tomioka found himself annoyed, much less angry. He much preferred channeling his existing emotions into slaying demons, allowing them to taste a fraction of the rage and hatred he felt deep within, a vicious fire he so rarely let bubble up to his service.

Until that evening. After the fiasco that was Mount Natagumo and the subsequent chaos at the Master’s mansion as a result of the Kamado boy and his demon sister, Giyuu had finally noticed that the previous day’s trials had resulted in the tear along the shoulder of his haori that he knew could no longer be ignored. 

He grit his teeth; the battle against the Lower Moon spider demon had hardly required him to exert any energy — yet the demon’s last ditch attempt to preserve its life had managed to enlarge the small hole in his most prized possession, and the Water Pillar was utterly without the skill to repair it. 

So, he’d been forced to sit through the meeting with the Master, the hole in his haori feeling more like a gaping wound that only festered with every passing moment, until finally, finally they’d been dismissed. 

Giyuu hadn’t wasted any time departing swiftly from his Master’s estate, though that hadn’t stopped him from catching the tail end of Shinazugawa’s biting remark of how fuckin’ typical it was for him to leave without so much as a farewell to his comrades. He tried not to let the Wind Pillar’s words get to him; but he was unworthy of their company regardless, so he supposed it really didn’t matter what they thought of him. It shouldn’t. 

And so, that was how Giyuu found himself padding silently along the cracked, stone pathway which led to the Shrine at the edge of his designated territory, ready to eat crow and ask for assistance from a particular Miko whom he felt certain would not hesitate to remind him of how he’d coolly rejected her help only days earlier. 

Hence, his irritation. 

So, his movements stiff and his mouth twisted into a firm grimace, Giyuu stalked under the Torii and into the main courtyard of the old Shrine. It was coming upon midday, though there was a thick cover of clouds overhead that threatened that open up at any moment and shower rain across the region. He ignored the respectful bows of the Shrine’s various inhabitants and staff, eyes sweeping over faces in search of her. 

He located her near the storehouse, chatting with one of her fellow trainees as the pair worked to clean vegetables. Giyuu trudged over to her, eyes locked unwaveringly on her serene, easy smile, as he tried to ignore the way it made something in his gut clench and churn. 

He drew to a stop right before her and her Shrine-sister, the latter looking up at him with wide eyes, her hands stilling over her work as she looked up to the Slayer in awe. 

Giyuu cleared his throat but Y/N only continued wiping the dirt from carrots with her cloth. 

The ravenette tried again. “I am in need of your assistance.” 

Y/N’s comrade nudged her with her elbow, but the Miko only continued to clean, pointedly ignoring them both. 

Giyuu pursed his lips. “With my haori. The tear has grown larger —“

“I am busy.” Y/N’s tone was clipped. “Perhaps there are others who might assist you.”

“Please.” 

The Shrine Maiden’s hands finally stilled and she lifted her chin to face him. The moment she beheld the pleading sincerity in his eyes, coupled with the hard set of his jaw that betrayed just how desperate he was, her gaze softened.

She sighed. “Very well then,” she rose, brushing her hands free of any residual dirt. She held her chin high and squared her shoulders, determined not to show him how he’d bruised her ego; how he’d frightened her. “Follow me.”

—

The Shrine sat at the base of a great mountain. But, nearly half a kilometer up the winding, twisting path leading up the mountain and carved into its side, was a grassy hilltop that then plateaued into a small overlook that boasted a phenomenal aerial view of the Shrine below. 

The summer grass had turned a vibrant shade of emerald, broken up only by dots of tiny white and blue wildflowers that had gathered in small clusters sprinkled throughout the overlook. At the back of the clearing stood an ancient willow tree, its trunk gnarled and knotted with age, its wisps swaying lazily in the wind.   

It was her favorite spot; a little ways away from the hustle and bustle of the Shrine, which meant they would have some privacy as she worked. Y/N settled down against the grass and pulled a needle and a spool of thread from her pocket. She turned her face up toward the Water Pillar where he stood over her. “I’ll take that haori, now, if you’ll please.” 

Wordlessly, Tomioka carefully slid the garment from his shoulders and handed it to her, though he hesitated in letting go as she took it gingerly into her hands. 

It was clearly very important to the Slayer, and perhaps that was why she felt the need to reassure him. “I promise to take care of it.”

He nodded stiffly and let go of the fabric and the Miko quickly set to work repairing its torn shoulder. The Water Pillar lingered awkwardly beside her for a moment longer before he too, sat in the grass next to her, though his back remained straight, his posture rigid.

She glanced at him as her needle wove the haori’s fabric back together. “I suppose this happened because of your occupation?” 

It was faint, but the shrine maiden swore she saw his mouth twitch into something reminiscent of a grimace. “Yes.”

“You should be lucky it wasn’t your flesh.”

At that, Tomioka scoffed. “I would not allow such a weakling to get close enough to try.”

“My, I’d not pegged you as the boastful sort, Tomioka-sama.”

“It’s not boasting; I speak only the truth.” He retorted evenly. 

The shrine maiden only hummed as she worked. “And what of your family? Do they support your path as a Slayer?”

The Water Pillar turned his head away, his form stiff. For a moment, the Miko feared she would be left to repair his haori in silence, with nothing but the faint whistling of birds to keep her company. 

“I have none,” Tomioka’s voice was soft, nearly swallowed by the wind. “There is no one left to object, even if they wanted to.”

Y/N’s hands paused their work as she thought. “You are alone?”

It would be nice, she supposed, to find another who, like her, belonged to no one; a kindred spirit of sorts.

“I suppose,” Tomioka spoke up after a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. “I have a mentor. But it was he who trained me to join the Corps.” 

“I should hope he’s more sober than mine,” Y/N drawled. “And less irritating.” 

The Miko’s attention was so fixed on her careful stitching along the hole in his haori, that she didn’t see his faint smile at her words. 

——

The Slayer and the shrine maiden continued talking long after she’d finished repairing the tear in his haori. It was only when Tomioka had realized nightfall was a mere hour away that the two reluctantly descended the hillside to return to the Shrine.

“I almost forgot.” The Water Pillar said, halting in front of the honden as Y/N escorted him back to the Shrine’s entrance. He dug into his pockets and pulled something free. “Here. For you.” 

The Miko gaped down at the fat red fruit that sat heavily in his palm. “This is -“ she said breathlessly, “A pomegranate!” 

He nodded, arm still outstretched towards her as he waited to drop the ruby fruit into her hand. 

She shook her head. “No, Tomioka-san, I cannot accept something so expensive-“

“I insist.” The Water Pillar withdrew a small knife and split the fruit in half, staining his hands crimson with the juice that spilled over its soft flesh.

Hesitantly, the young Miko accepted the half he offered her, and thumbed some of the fat, glistening jewels loose. The moment she brought them to her lips, Y/N sighed, contentedly, and for some reason, Giyuu found his cheeks heating as he watched her savor the sweet fruit. 

She lazily opened her eyes after swallowing her first mouthful, but she was startled to see the Hashira staring at her, unwaveringly, and she realized he’d moved closer towards her than he had been only seconds earlier. 

Tomioka’s azure eyes were fixed hard on her lips, as he leaned in close to her, Y/N flushing as he drew nearer. 

Is he going to kiss me? Her traitorous heart thundered at the idea, and it caused her no short amount of grief to know she was uncertain whether she wanted him to do so. As her emotions warred with her logic, the Water Pillar’s gentle fingers cupped under her chin, and his thumb brushed delicately across her lower lip. 

“Pomegranate juice,” he said, but Y/N could still feel the warmth of his breath still as his hand lingered under her chin. His eyes were wide as though he, too, could not believe what he’d just done. 

“Yes,” she breathed, before she felt her cheeks heat. “I – I mean, thank you.”

The Water Pillar’s gaze dropped to her lips and her stomach twisted violently. All at once, awareness seemed to come crashing down upon him, and he then stepped back, his hand falling from its hold on her face and back to his side.

The shrine maiden remained frozen in place for a heartbeat longer. “Are you certain you’re unable to be our guest tonight?” Her voice was little more than a pitiful squeak.

Her eyes lifted to his and she knew the answer before he spoke it. “I cannot,” and to her surprise, he almost looked as disappointed as she felt, but he added hastily, “But I will be back. Soon.”

“Soon,” she echoed, feeling rather dazed. “Yes. Of course. I — we — look forward to it.”

She was thankful that Tomioka had already turned away from her as he made his way down the long, winding steps that led to the main route out of the forest; that way, he could not see the way her cheeks burned crimson, or how she buried her face in her hands as she cursed her own embarrassment.

—

Giyuu was grateful his back was to the young Miko as he retreated through the Shrine’s gates and back to the path which would lead him home. It meant she could not see as he stared at his thumb – the thumb he’d used to clear away the small bead of pomegranate juice from her lips – or how his eyebrows pinched together. It meant she could not hear his heart as it beat wildly in his chest at the memory of how soft and full her lip had been beneath the pad of his thumb, soft enough that some treacherous part of his brain had urged him to lean in, to see if her lips would feel as good against his – 

He shook his head, trying desperately to dispel his wild intrusive thoughts. It was ludicrous; he did not think of the young shrine maiden in that way. Not when she frequently sought to needle him, not when she frustrated him to no end. 

His collar suddenly felt tight; his skin, far too hot. His gaze dropped back down to the hand that had touched her, and it clenched. 

A pomegranate. It was only a pomegranate; nothing more. 

“It was a thank you gift,” Giyuu declared, as though speaking the words out loud gave them more force. “It is nothing more than an expression of gratitude.”

And even his crow, ancient and dull as he was, scoffed at the obviousness of the lie.

——

Late Summer, 1915

Summer blazed hot and humid. But neither the sweltering heat of the sun nor the most arduous missions he took exhausted Giyuu more than the complicated, tangled mess of feelings that had taken root within him. Because with every day that passed, the Miko of the Shrine at the edge of the forest occupied more and more of his mind. And Giyuu did not know what it meant or what he should do about it. 

She’d not just repaired his haori or made him salmon; she’d somehow wormed her way into his every waking thought, and to his great confusion, he found himself almost unwilling to think of anything but her. 

Admittedly, Giyuu Tomioka did not have the requisite tools in his social arsenal to successfully navigate human interaction. He hadn’t quite known the extent of his ineptitude however, until the Insect Pillar had so cheerfully pointed out that none of his comrades, in fact, liked him. That revelation had made him doubt every interaction he’d had since, made him wonder whether even the lower ranked Slayers viewed him with the same apathy, if not the same outright hostility toward him shared by Shinazugawa and Iguro.

He’d come to doubt them all — except her.

Y/N was different; at the end of each visit to the Shrine, the Water Pillar did not find himself feeling drained or unwanted.  He felt lighter; rejuvenated, even. She was a breath of fresh air that Giyuu found more difficult to go without with each passing day. 

She still picked at him, but she did so without the malice he’d normally come to expect, even from those he considered friends, like the Kocho. The young Miko had a way of teasing him that did not leave him feeling decidedly othered. Rather, her japes only spurred him to respond with his own, though admittedly, they tended to fall flat.

He’d known, from the moment she’d attempted to bludgeon him with her broom, that there was more to the Miko than met the eye; but he hadn’t imagined he’d find himself as drawn to her as he was, unable to tolerate going more than a handful of weeks without paying her a visit.

And, given the way she’d blushed after he’d thanked her for repairing his haori, perhaps she was drawn to him, too. Perhaps he hoped she was.

But he would have to wait to find out, for his obligations to the Corps had taken him to a village a considerable distance away from his designated territory. He’d been tasked with investigating a series of disappearances of young women in the region, but his orders had come abruptly enough that he’d not been able to spare a visit to the Shrine before he departed.

He was anxious — eager — to return, though not before he took care of the demon likely behind the mystery plaguing the village he now patrolled.

Nightfall was still a little ways off, and so Giyuu found himself wandering the streets to pass the time. He made his way to a sizeable outdoor market, still packed with shoppers oohing and ahhing over vibrant displays of silk, crafted jewelry, and sugary confectioneries.

Idly, he too, joined other patrons in browsing the small vending stands that lined the bustling village streets, though his perusal was disinterested, if not bored. But his eyes snagged on one small bauble displayed on the merchant’s small stand upon a swath of silk. It was small; unassuming. But the carefully crafted decoration was painted in a startling shade of crimson that he found hard to ignore. 

The image of a certain Miko flashed through his mind. He couldn’t leave without it. he wouldn’t; not when its paint so perfectly matched the color of Y/N’s hakama trousers.

I spend the year longing for autumn. That was what she’d told him, that day on the hillside after she’d repaired his haori. 

He almost smiled to himself. This would be a way for her to enjoy her favorite season even in the scorching heat of summer or the biting cold of winter. 

He waited for the merchant to notice his presence, his fingers twisting around the small money sack he kept tucked in his pocket. His eyes flickered back to the small trinket. Idly, Giyuu wondered when he’d begun associating the color red with the shrine maiden and not with the blood he’d always imagined stained his hands. 

He continued to stare the merchant down until he finally managed to catch the vendor’s eye, who flinched at the intensity of his unblinking stare.   

Giyuu jutted his chin toward the small token. “How much?” 

—-

He found the Miko a few mornings later, relaxing on the hillside overlooking the Shrine. She laid amongst the late summer wildflowers that had bloomed, her form framed against the grass with petals of soft blue and bright marigold. 

Giyuu wordlessly settled beside her, and he tried to ignore the thunderous beat of his heart against his sternum as she rolled her head toward him to greet him with a sleepy smile. They exchanged pleasantries and settled into a comfortable silence, both content to watch the sun rise higher over the horizon.

Easy; it was so easy for him to sit beside her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“So, you are to take over the Shrine, one day?”

Y/N’s head turned to the Water Pillar in surprise; though he’d grown steadily more talkative over the months since she’d met him, it wasn’t often that he initiated conversation. 

She settled back against the cool grass of the hilltop overlooking the Shrine, enjoying the precious few moments of quiet in the early morning before the chaos of the day called her away. “Yes,” though there was a slight uncertainty in her voice. “I’m sure it’s the expectation, after all. I have to repay Granny for her kindness.”

Giyuu frowned. “But is that what you want?”

“What I want is irrelevant,” the Miko folded her arms behind her head and tilted her face up toward the sky. Her eyes tracked the great, fluffy clouds that drifted lazily by, though the Water Pillar suspected she was attempting to avoid having to meet his eye. 

“It’s not irrelevant,” he countered. “If nothing else, you should be allowed to consider other possibilities.”

She did not answer him, and the silence between them stretched enough that he thought to drop the subject, not wanting to press her any further. 

“I think,” she said in that faraway voice that Giyuu had come to learn meant she was trying to conceal some deeply felt emotion. “I think should like to belong somewhere.” Her eyes shone. “No, that’s not it — I want someone to belong to me, and I to them. 

“A husband.” He said flatly. 

The Miko shook her head. “I have never belonged to anywhere or to anyone. I’ve no family to call my own - only an old woman who took pity on me as an infant and raised me. I wonder — what must it be like?” She laid back on the grass and closed her eyes. “That is the one thing I would change. I belong nowhere because I’m no one — nobody’s.” 

Giyuu frowned. “I don’t think that’s true—“

“It is true,” she insisted, though she said it with such ease and conviction, like it was the most obvious and natural thing in the world. “I am here for a moment and then I will be gone, and no one will ever know or remember that there once was a shrine maiden named Y/N here. I’ve made peace with that.”

I would, Giyuu wanted to tell her. I would remember and I would tell them all. 

“I am nobody as well,” Giyuu admitted quietly after a moment. “And I have no one left to belong to.” 

The image of her face, so kind and sad and full of understanding at his words, had stayed with him for the rest of the morning and even as he settled in for a few hours of sleep in the Shrine’s guest wing.  

And in his dreams, her face remained a constant.

—

The sky had turned a vivid shade of orange by the time the Water Pillar emerged from his guest lodgings, ready to depart and resume his duties.  Y/N had been helping another shrine maiden tote firewood across the courtyard when she heard a quiet call of her name.

She turned and saw the raven-haired Swordsman standing near the great Torii gate. 

She looked back to her fellow trainee, who waved her off with a knowing smile, and Y/N brushed her hands clean against her hakama pants before she approached him. 

“Leaving so soon?” And she tried to mask her disappointment at the shortness of his visit. 

Giyuu nodded. “We’ve been stretched thin, in light of a few…changes to our ranks.”

The Miko nodded grimly. He’d told her that a fellow Hashira had been slain a few months prior, and another had retired following a rather violent battle that had destroyed part of a far off city.

“But I wanted to give you this.”

She glanced down to his outstretched hand, where a small parcel was wrapped in plain furoshiki cloth. Stunned, she took the package from him, her eyes flicking between it and the Water Pillar watching her intently.

Gingerly, she unfolded the bundle and unveiled a long, but fragile metal and wood reed.

A hairpin, she realized with a soft gasp. Y/N could scarcely bring her fingers to run over the exquisitely crafted ridges of the leaves that adorned the top portion of the pin, afraid that even the slightest pressure from her touch would cause the Water Pillar’s precious gift to her to crumble. 

I spend the year longing for autumn, she’d told him. She hadn’t thought he’d been particularly interested in listening to her talk; but as Y/N cradled the delicate ornament between her palms, she felt a blush begin to creep across her cheeks. 

As her fingers traced across the delicate ridges of a cluster of maple leaves, lacquered in a thick coat of scarlet paint — a perfect match to the hue of her traditional Miko hakama pants — Y/N realized that perhaps Tomioka had been paying more attention to her than she’d realized. 

For the Water Pillar had given her a piece of autumn to hold onto year-round. 

“Tomioka-san, you do not-“ 

“Giyuu.” The ravenette interrupted her. “Please, call me by my name; it’s Giyuu.” 

Y/N’s mouth closed, but she smiled softly, considering. “Alright. Giyuu — please, you do not need to feel obligated to bring gifts for us — it was only salmon.” 

But Giyuu only shook his head. “I don’t bring gifts for everyone; just you.” 

Y/N turned scarlet. 

“Please, just-“ Giyuu frowned, and Y/N could have sworn she saw the faintest glow of pink coloring the Hashira’s cheeks. “Just take it.” 

“Okay,” her voice resembled a mouse’s squeak as she cradled the pin delicately between her hands. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” 

“And it wasn’t just salmon.” 

Y/N looked to him in surprise, her head cocked in curiosity. “Pardon?” 

Giyuu exhaled harshly through his nose before stepping closer to her. “This is not only because you made salmon.” Her eyes tracked his hand as it rose to grip the front fold of his haori in his fist. “This – this is all I have left of my family.” 

“My sister,” he gestured to the red half of his haori. “She died protecting me.” His hand drifted to the green and orange patterned half of the garment. “And this belonged to a dear friend. He also perished protecting me – and others.”

The Miko’s lips parted, understanding and sorrow flooding her eyes. “Tomioka-san — Giyuu — I had no idea —“

“They both died because of demons – because I could not help them. And now this is all I have left to remember them by.” And then he did the unthinkable; he grabbed her hand and pressed it against the checkered portion of his haori, right over his heart. His hand was warm and firm. Gentle, though she could feel his callouses against her knuckles as he held it in place. “So it wasn’t just salmon.” He repeated, and there was a heat in his eyes Y/N had not seen before, one that stoked a fire in her belly. “And you are not just anyone.” 

A soft exhale blew past her lips at the sincerity of his words. For the first time in all her nineteen years, she wondered if this was what it meant to mean something to someone.

“Thank you,” she breathed, eyes wide and sparkling with unshed emotion. “I will treasure it.”

She swore she saw a faint blush creep across the Water Pillar’s cheeks, but she brushed it aside as nothing more than the shadows of the sky as twilight darkened the horizon. 

Tomioka nodded. “I must get going now; I will see you soon.”

She did not want him to go.

But the shrine maiden concealed the pang she felt in her chest with a breezy smile. “Farewell, Tomio-“

“Giyuu.” 

She blushed. “Yes — Giyuu. Until next time.”

—

“I cannot believe he lets the old woman charge him an arm and a leg to stay a single night,” Miyoko said in awe as the pair watched the retreating form of the Water Pillar through the shrine house gates. 

The hairpin clutched tightly in her hands suddenly felt like a stone weight. “I’m sure he stays here only for convenience’s sake,” Y/N replied airily, turning sharply away from the egress to the shrine to hide her warming cheeks.  

Miyoko snorted. “Hardly. The Demon Slayer Corps has tons of safehouses throughout the country. Corps members get medical treatment, hot meals, and lodging free of charge.” Y/N’s sister-in-training grunted as she heaved a hefty bag of rice flour from the storeroom to the girls’ side, no doubt hauling it out to prepare the evening meal. 

“I’ve heard of at least four such houses in this region alone. As a Hashira, Tomioka-sama could go to any one of them and be treated far more kindly than he is here.” 

Y/N frowned. “I wonder why, then, he continues to return here so often? Surely our shrine is some distance from his home, given that he stays the night each time.” 

Miyoko shot the young shrine maiden a knowing glance. “Perhaps he tolerates the Granny’s abuse because he is fond of the company.” 

Y/N only felt her face grow hotter as she ducked down, though she felt Miyoko’s amused stare burn through her back. 

—-

The Water Pillar had returned from his intel assignment and promptly journeyed to the Shrine, its inhabitants abuzz as they prepared for the arrival of autumn and the colder months, now only mere weeks away. 

He found the shrine maiden of his interest inside the main wing of the manor, back in the kitchen as she prepared herbs to be incorporated into various salves and medications. Y/N smiled brightly at him as he’d sidled up beside her, taking a handful of dried greenery from the bunch next to her and deftly pulling the leaves from the stem and handing them to her. 

“Is it your day off?” The Miko gratefully accepted the leaves he’d stripped and dumped them into the rocky mortar to join the others. 

Giyuu felt his stomach clench as his fingers brushed against hers. “I have completed my duties for the time being, yes.”

"You're welcome to help me, as long as you do not mind a bit of busy work."

He didn't; of course he didn't. In fact, as he accepted the heavy stone pestle from the Miko and set to work mashing the leaves she handed them into the mortar, Giyuu rather supposed he would do just about anything to remain in the shrine maiden's company, even if that meant assisting her in a task as banal as grinding medicinal herbs. And though the Slayer and the Miko fell into their well-practiced habit of quietly tending to Y/N's duties side by side, there was a notable absence of the bright chatter he'd grown accustomed to hearing during his visits.

The Water Pillar frowned. “You’re quiet.” It was not a question. “There is something on your mind.” 

“Is there?” Y/N hummed loftily, her hands continuing to strip leaves from their stems. “Perhaps I am simply focused.” 

Giyuu found his eyes wandering to the side to study the Miko’s face more often than usual. Though she maintained a pleasant smile as they worked, he could see that it did not fully reach her eyes. And even her sage expression could not conceal the way the troubled look in her eyes, hands pausing their work as she stared at something behind the walls of the small shrine kitchen. 

“Something is bothering you.” Giyuu took the bundle of herbs clutched in her hands and replaced them with his pestle, allowing her to work her frustrations over the paste forming at the bottom of the stone bowl. 

She blushed and refocused her gaze, grinding the pestle hard. “Nothing is wrong!” She chirped. 

“You are a dreadful liar.”

The Miko replied with an airy laugh that made his throat tighten. “So I’ve been told — often, in fact.” 

“There is…trouble in the village,” Y/N said carefully, though she kept her hands busy as she continued to grind herbs into a thick paste. “It is nothing we can’t handle, but it has put many of us on edge. Particularly Granny.” 

Giyuu frowned as he handed the shrine maiden another bunch of leaves from her basket. “What sort of trouble?” 

She hesitated. “It is petty village drama, nothing more.”

“You won’t give any further details?” 

The Water Pillar could not explain it, but he found himself troubled by the way the Shrine Maiden forced a smile and a far too casual shrug of her shoulders. “There are none worth re-hashing.” 

He frowned, but he did not press her further, resolving instead to poke around later. Perhaps he would see whether the Shrine’s head Priestess’s tongue was as loose with information as it was with vulgarity once she’d properly indulged in her sake; he’d make certain she was well-stocked in advance. 

Giyuu furtively glanced back at the shrine maiden’s profile, in part to see whether he could deduce anything from her expressions, but he found himself instead studying her, puzzling over a change in her appearance he hadn’t noticed before.

Sensing his stare, the Miko turned to him with a light smile that then  faltered. “What –?”

“You changed your hair.” It took everything within him not to reach out, to see if her hair would feel as silky in his fingers as it looked shifting softly in the wind. “I’ve never seen it down.” 

“Oh!” Her smile turned bashful, a pretty pink dusting spreading across her cheeks. “I wanted to wear my hairpin – see?” 

She turned her head, the long curtain of her hair rippling smoothly with the movement. With her back to him, Giyuu could see the pin he’d given her neatly tucked into the long strands of her hair, pinning half of it back. The red of the pin’s maple leaves posed a lovely contrast with the hue of her hair. 

Y/N was already quite beautiful, but with her hair partially down, he thought she looked softer; younger. She peeked over her shoulder at him, fingers nervously combing through her tresses. “It’s not practical for every day, of course, but I thought since you’d likely be arriving soon –” 

His eyes widened and Giyuu became acutely aware that his heart now thumped wildly in his throat as Y/N choked off with a squeak, apparently realizing what she’d revealed. Though she hurriedly turned back around, Giyuu could see how the tips of her ears burned bright red. 

Despite her efforts, her admission hung like a cloud in the air between them. She’d worn it – the hairpin – for him. 

Giyuu swallowed thickly. “I like it.” He cleared his throat and turned, allowing his own unruly hair to obscure his face. “On you, that is.” 

For once, the Miko had neither a quick remark nor barb to lob back at him. Instead, she only turned back to her task of grinding her herbs, a thick curtain of her hair concealing her face from his sight.

Once she'd finished bottling up her new medicinal salves, Giyuu helped her carry the tins to the Shrine's storage house, directly across the courtyard from its main wing. The shrine maiden remained curiously quiet, even in spite of his own lame attempts to converse with her. He'd finally given up after his dry comment about the weather went ignored. But every so often, he let his eyes wander to her as they returned to the honden, and that nagging feeling returned as he watched her gnaw incessantly at her bottom lip, a faraway look in her eyes. 

Giyuu was not a nosy man, but the Miko's clear distraction unsettled him. He was about to pull her aside, to demand she tell him exactly what it was that had chased away the smile he so longed to see when they were approached by Y/N's haughty Master.

“Lord Tomioka,” the head Priestess nodded curtly at him in greeting. “I am glad to have run into you — I am in need of your assistance.”

The old Priestess turned to her young protégée. “Go assist the younger ones; they need to give their offerings before dinner.” 

Y/N’s mouth opened to protest but the head Priestess cut her off. “Now.”

To his surprise, the shrine maiden did not argue with her Master, only turning to him to give him a helpless shrug before she began to make her way toward the Shrine’s honden. 

The Water Pillar grimaced. He tried to convince himself the pit in his stomach was only because her odd behavior gnawed at him; that he was only curious to learn what it was that troubled her.  But as the Miko cast one last, reluctant look over her shoulder at him, Giyuu found that he was as unwilling to watch her go as she was to leave. 

If the Shrine’s head priestess noticed his inner anguish, she paid it no mind. “You will accompany me in the kitchen.”

—-

The first thing he noticed was the conspicuous absence of the scent of sake, which he’d grown accustomed to following the Priestess around like a pungent cloud of perfume. He resisted the urge to scowl; he would have to find another way to get the old woman to talk.

Giyuu followed the woman into the small structure that stood adjacent to the honden that served as the Shrine’s kitchen. He watched silently as she pulled a cleaver, large and deadly sharp, free from where it was stored in a cabinet and laid it atop a butcher’s block. The elder stepped outside of the kitchen and returned a moment later, a recently de-feathered and skinned chicken in hand.

“Things around here seem…tense,” Giyuu observed carefully  as the old woman slapped the chicken on the counter for preparation. 

“Tense is one word for it, I reckon,” she bit, taking up her cleaver. “The world we live in is dark. I should think you would know that better than most.”

The corner of his mouth dipped down. “But even your girls seem unusually subdued; distracted.” 

Her eyes flashed to his, piercing and sharp. “You mean Y/N.”

It wasn’t a question. 

“She is always restless this time of year,” the old woman sighed. “Though she loves autumn, she despises winter — or, rather, she despises how it reminds her of what she does not have. And winter is well on its way.” 

He nodded, recalling what the shrine maiden had revealed to him that day, on the hillside.

“But your observation is correct — that is not all of the reason she is so distracted,” the old Priestess said darkly, and Giyuu was surprised to see how alert and focused the normally soused elder seemed. “A man from the village — Susumo — has been following her. Demanding her.” 

Giyyu straightened. “What do you mean by ‘demand?’” 

The haggard woman cursed below her breath as she broke down the chicken’s body. “I mean in the way that men often feel entitled to women — especially angry drunks like him.” 

Every hair on Giyuu’s body stood straight as the weight of the Priestess’ warning settled. 

“I have forbidden her from venturing out in the dark alone,” the Granny continued, harshly wrenching a joint on the fowl. 

“She is a Priestess in training; surely that status affords her some protection?” Giyuu’s knuckles turned white where his fists clenched at his sides. 

“I’m not sure the shrine is enough to keep him out for much longer. He’s been lingering — and threatening consequences, if I do not agree to hand her over to him for marriage.” The old Priestess grimaced. “Her status does her no good if he burns this place to the ground.” 

The old woman set her cleaver next to her with a heavy thud, her frustration palpable. “The girl is of age, and I am not her blood family; there is no one here who can claim authority over her, not like a parent or an elder sibling.” When her eyes lifted to his, Giyuu could see a hint of fear underlying the hard anger in her gaze. “These days, I half-expect to awaken and find that she’s been stolen in the night.” 

The Water Pillar felt his jaw clench. It was rare that he felt the burning flush of anger and it was not directed at a demon, but the idea that Y/N was being harassed and threatened by some village drunkard who felt entitled to her, lit something hot in his stomach. For as vexatious and confounding as he found the young Miko to be, no one deserved to be stalked like prey. 

Especially her. 

“I’ve had a crow stationed here to alert me of any demon attacks for months,” Giyuu began, and the old woman looked to him in surprise. “But I will assign more to keep watch during the day. If there is anything strange afoot, they will tell you.” He paused a moment before adding, “And they will alert me, too.”

The head Priestess laid down her cleaver to look at him, long and hard. “Then she may have a fighting chance yet, Lord Hashira.”

————-

By the time he found Y/N once more, dinner was over and the moon had risen high in the night sky, casting the shrine grounds in its pale, silvery glow.

He’d told her, rather tersely, that he was unable to stay the night, and he tried to ignore how his chest tightened at the crestfallen look that flashed across her face. Despite her tangible disappointment, she insisted on escorting him out of the Shrine, desperate to cling to every second that might be spared to them.

“You are rather quiet tonight,” the Miko observed, walking him to the grand Torii. “More so than usual.” It was an understatement; the Water Pillar had been downright sullen and withdrawn from the moment he’d returned from whatever takes Granny had insisted she help him with. 

Rather than give her any explanation, Giyuu halted his step and reached for her wrist, stilling her. “You did not tell me you were being harassed.” 

She looked up to the Water Pillar in surprise. “How did you —?” 

He released her from his grip in favor of drawing closer to her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Y/N opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find her words. “I suppose,” she began, but her mouth quirked down in a frown. “I did not think you needed to be burdened by something so insignificant.” 

Giyuu stared at her as he mouthed the word insignificant, the look he shot her giving the distinct impression he thought her an idiot. “I do not think your safety is insignificant,” Giyuu’s hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, clenching it tight. “Nor do I think you are insignificant.” 

“Compared to your other obligations? I should think I’m very unimportant.” Y/N turned away from him, fiddling with a gathering basket she carried on her hip to avoid having to look him in the eyes.

But the raven-haired Pillar caught her wrist and turned her back to face him, not willing to be ignored. “If you call for me, I will come to you.” 

Y/N’s heart lurched at the Water Pillar’s words, spoken with such conviction and sincerity that it made her falter in her step. “Tomioka-san,” she said breathlessly, her eyes wide as she turned to him. “You have far more important duties to see to than to concern yourself with than mere village drama —“

But the raven-haired Hashira only shook his head as he took another step towards her, his expression severe; calculating. “You have the knife I gave you, yes?” His eyes dropped to her pocket, and Y/N felt compelled to show him that the small blade was indeed tucked safely within the folds of her hakama pants. 

“Giyuu,” she pled, and she noted the way that he twitched towards her at the sound of his name falling from her lips. “Please, don’t worry —“

“I do not make promises I cannot keep,” the Water Pillar cut her off, closing the distance between them until the tips of his zori nearly grazed hers, his head bent down towards her as the heat of his stare threatened to consume her. “So I repeat: if you call for me, I will come to you.” 

Any thought of arguing faded from her mind as Y/N became keenly aware of the lack of space between their bodies, of the way her hands, clasped in front of her chest brushed against the folds of his haori as it shifted softly with the wind. 

“I understand,” she breathed. Y/N held his gaze for a long moment, though it was in part due to the battle waging within her not to allow her eyes to drop to his lips.

She would not let herself acknowledge how close they were; how soft they looked, or how warm they might feel against hers; her skin. 

Giyuu lingered as well; after a pregnant pause, he finally stepped back, blinking as though coming out of a trance. “Good,” he nodded, and he glanced furtively over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed and he nodded as though satisfied before he turned crisply on his heel to begin his trek towards his duties and away from her. “Do not forget.” He called one last time over his shoulder, before the shadows of the woods swallowed him whole. 

As Y/N dazedly made her way back towards the shrine, a crow following closely behind her, she almost laughed at the suggestion she could. 

——-

Autumn, 1915

The weeks passed by without much fuss, and soon, the palpable tension that had settled over the Shrine as a result of Susumo’s lingering threats subsided. Soon, life at the Shrine returned to normal, and Y/N often found her mind wandering to thoughts of raven hair and endless blue eyes. 

Until that night.

It had been a normal evening at the Shrine; autumn, blissful autumn had arrived, heralding forth crisp winds and golden skies. Though the days were steadily growing shorter, Y/N found herself rejuvenated by the new chill, especially as she watched the leaves of the trees shift from green to gold to ruby. 

The leaves on her hairpin indeed had been a perfect match to those which were steadily drifting from the tall maples dotting the Shrine. Though she couldn’t wear her hair down the way she had the last time the Water Pillar paid the Shrine a visit, Y/N had found new ways to incorporate his gift into her daily life, weaving it through her plait or tucking it behind her ear. 

That night had been one like any other; after dinner, the girls of the Shrine had scattered to tend to their evening duties.  The shrine maiden had been walking alongside her Master, planning for the upcoming festival in the nearby village, during which the Shrine would seek new patrons to keep it operational. The women mulled over which families might be more inclined to assist them, and settled on a prominent merchant known to frequent other shrines on his travels through the country.

That was when they’d spotted the smoke.

“Fire!” A shrill voice cried, and both the old Priestess and Y/N blanched. “The honden is on fire!”

All at once, chaos broke out across the Shrine grounds as girls darted to and fro, frantic. Granny began barking at her charges, ordering the younger ones to gather in the courtyard while instructing the older girls to assist in putting out the flames.

"The granary!" Someone else cried. "The granary has gone up in flames!"

The elder Priestess snatched Y/N's wrist in her weathered hand. “The scrolls!” Granny's expression of horror was a sure match to her own. “They’re in the storeroom near the granary!” 

The scrolls in question had been in the Shrine’s custody for over five hundred years, carrying sacred inscriptions of the gods and prayers essential to its operation and legitimacy.

They were priceless; irreplaceable. 

“I’ll go!” And before her Master could protest, the Miko had already turned away and began sprinting toward the fire that was rapidly engulfing the granary near the back of the property.  

Thankfully, the storeroom had yet to catch fire, but if the one steadily consuming the granary was not dealt with soon, it wouldn’t be long before it spread to consume the small wooden hut. 

And Y/N knew it wouldn’t take much to reduce the storeroom to ash. 

Coughing, she pressed her arm to her nose and mouth, using the large bell sleeve of her kosode to block some of the smoke that burned her eyes and nose. She pulled her other sleeve over her hand to protect it as she pushed the storehouse’s door aside. 

Inside was dark; quiet. Though the nighttime made it difficult for her to see the scrolls and prints carefully rolled and tucked away into tiny cubbies lining the hut’s walls, Y/N wasn’t stupid enough to waste time searching for a candle to light. So, with only the flames eating away at the granary at her back to light her way, she began pulling handfuls of scrolls free from their storage, tucking them under her arm. 

She turned to take her first armload of priceless Shrine artifacts from the storeroom and nearly tripped over a collection of heated coal pans that had been stacked in the corner to keep the scrolls sealed within the room at a stable temperature. She managed to hold onto her scrolls, however, and she quickly moved them away from the hut, placing them safely on a nearby rock that was still far enough away from the storeroom should it catch fire. She returned to the hut to survey what else she needed to salvage, but a familiar, tiny yelp and the flurry of movement in her periphery made the Miko’s stomach twist.

“Komatsu!” Y/N turned and saw the anxious younger girl lingering at the storage hut’s door, her tiny hands trembling. “Get away from here! It’s not safe!” 

“B-but Sister,” the girl cried, hopping anxiously from foot to foot. “This is too much to do on your own —“

“You need to go find Granny,” the shrine maiden ordered. “I will join you in a moment.”

The girl’s lower lip wobbled. “But —,”

“Now!”

With a great sniff, the girl turned away, leaving Y/N alone once more. The Miko sighed and resumed her hasty perusal of the hut’s shelves, searching for anything else that could not be replaced. 

There was a rustling near the doorway and Y/N bit her lip in an effort not to swear in front of her younger peer. “Komatsu, what did I say —“ 

She turned to admonish the girl, but her reprimand dried instantly on her tongue. For there, in the entryway to the storeroom, was Komatsu, her eyes wide and her face bone-white with a terror that matched Y/N’s own.

Because the girl was not alone.

Wrapped around her bicep was a hand, as large as a small boulder, and tipped with long, wicked claws that threatened to pierce Komatsu’s bicep. The hand was attached to a forearm, inhumanly thick and muscled. Slowly, Y/N’s eyes dragged up the length of the monstrous arm to behold the sinister face that grinned at her. 

It was Susumo — only it wasn’t Susumo. Y/N recognized the vague features of the face that had once belonged to the village drunk and her personal tormentor. His hair was the same as was the general shape of his face, and the cruelty of his smirk, but that was where the resemblance to the Susumo she’d once known ended.

Now, he boasted a row of sharp fangs that distended nearly to his lower lip. And his eyes — no longer were they a cold, soulless black; now they were crimson red, and his pupils were cut into catlike slits.

Demon. A voice whispered in her mind. Demon.

“Enjoy my fires, Priestess?” Even Susumo’s voice had changed, forming a growl that matched his monstrous appearance. “I set them for you — I knew you would not be able to resist seeing such a spectacle.”

“Komatsu,” Y/N ignored him in favor of addressing the young girl, though her voice was unusually high though she fought to keep it as steady as possible. “Please go find Granny and help her with the honden.” 

The young trainee trembled but Susumo’s clawed hand only tightened around her arm. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, sweet Priestess,” the demon crooned. “You have something I want, you see.”

The slick, oily look in his eyes made his desire clear.

Y/N’s eyes darted quickly around the hut, finally falling on a series of coal pans stacked to the side of the room, only a few feet from where she stood, paralyzed. Her quick, cursory glance at the pans revealed iron that was slightly red, and she swore she could see the air around them distorted by the heat.

Hot; they were still hot.

The Miko looked back to where the demon continued to leer at her, ravenous. “Fine,” she said coolly. “I will go with you, Susumo.”

Komatsu looked between her and the demon in horror, but Y/N only kept her eyes locked with the demon’s. She edged closer to where the coal pans were still burning hot, eyes not daring to drop his as she drew closer to the demon and the younger trainee. He grinned, revealing cruelly sharp and bloodstained teeth, and his yellow eyes shone with a triumphant smugness, believing the Miko was surrendering to him at last. 

As she brushed past the pans, Y/N furtively reached out a hand and closed her fingers around one of the handles. “Komatsu,” the Miko kept her eyes carefully trained on the demon. “Run.”

Her hand seized around the coal pan and with every ounce of her strength, she swung it toward the demon. The hot iron of the pan slammed into the side of his head, forcing him to drop his hold on the younger girl. There was a struggle between the older shrine maiden and the demon, who fought to wrench the pan free from her fierce grip, but Y/N would not relent. 

“Run!” She shrieked at the girl again, and Komatsu darted away. Y/N’s fingers stretched to close around the tiny lever on the handle of the coal pan, and with a snarl of fury, she managed to latch around it, squeezing it with all her might. The lid of the pan opened and red-hot coals spilled forth over the demon’s head. Susumo howled in fury, and Y/N dropped the pan, letting it crack against his head as she shot past him, desperate to escape the tiny storeroom.

The faster she got into open air, the better chance she had of living. 

But a claw, sharp and deadly sunk into her bicep, and yanked her back. She could not help the small scream that tore from her throat as she felt his talons rip at her skin and the sleeve of her kosode was shredded into ribbons beneath his nails.

“Sister Y/N!” Komatsu’s tiny, terrified voice cried out from several feet ahead. 

The shrine maiden swallowed her building panic. “Go!”

The little girl hesitated again and Y/N knew she could not follow after her, not without risking her safety once again. With a defiant scream of rage, the shrine maiden tore her arm free of the demon’s razor-like claws, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat as she felt blood run down her arm, hot and thick. 

The demon grasped wildly at her but found only air. Thinking only of the safety of Komatsu and her fellow trainees, Y/N turned on her heel and ran for the trees, away from the chaos unfolding at the Shrine. 

And the demon, still snarling and panting and undoubtedly enraged, followed her into the forest.

Shit, shit, shit!

Y/N hurtled over a snarled root as she ran, her life dependent upon every stride as she fled the newly-demented Susumo.

In the back of her mind, the Miko knew her efforts were in vain; because for every inch she managed to gain, the angry demon at her heels seemed to gain a foot.

“You’ve denied me for far too long!” The monster’s voice growled behind her, far too close for comfort. “I will have you!”

Y/N palmed the small nichirin knife tucked safely within the deep pockets of her hakama pants, and wildly she wondered whether it was possible to decapitate a demon with such a small blade. Perhaps the Water Pillar should have left her a sword. After all, a sword could not really be that different from a broom, and she’d walloped her fair share of handsy drunkards and would-be thieves with the cleaning tool.

If she lived through the night, she would tell him as much the next time she saw him.

Y/N’s musings did nothing to help her avoid the root of an old tree that jutted out from the earth, snarling around her ankle and sending her flailing to the forest floor. Angry tears of frustration clouded her eyes. Although she knew these paths like the back of her hand, that knowledge did her little good in the dark, as she fled for her life.

Scrambling up to her feet, Y/N caught sight of a pair of eyes watching her from the brambles, dark and inky.

A crow. The image of a certain Hashira flashed before her eyes, as Y/N recalled the way that the members of the Demon Slayer Corps used crows to communicate.

Perhaps this crow was so affiliated, and she was desperate enough to try. “Please!” Y/N begged, sobbing as the crow stared down at her with those black eyes. “Giyuu!”

———

The night had been unusually peaceful for the Water Pillar.

His ambling patrol around his territory’s perimeter hadn’t revealed so much as a whisper of demonic activity. But the absence of any conspicuous threat did not mean his guard was down; his eyes remained sharp, his ear finely tuned, listening for any shift in the wind, any sign that something was amiss and required investigation —

A sudden rustle of leaves sounded from his right, and Giyuu’s hand moved reflexively for his blade, bracing against its hilt in preparation. A small shadow burst from the canopy above him, its wings flapping wildly. He recognized it instantly as the crow he’d assigned to watch over the Shrine — to watch over her.

“Demon attack at the Mountain Shrine!” The crow squawked, circling above him frantically. “Demon attack! Go now — quickly!” 

He hadn’t hesitated to turn sharply on his heel, furiously making his way toward the Shrine. He broke through the line of trees at its edge in record time, and even he’d been taken aback by the chaos that had broken out.

“The honden is on fire!” the old woman cried out to the Pillar as he swiftly landed among the chaos unfolding across the shrine grounds. “The girls were still doing their evening duties – but then another fire was started near the granary!” 

“My crows said a demon had made an appearance,” Giyuu’s eyes carefully scanned the terrified, frantic faces of the Shrine’s residents, his hands braced against the hilt of his sword. “Has anyone been hurt?” 

The head Priestess stared at the Water Pillar in muted horror. “I have not seen – but I haven’t taken any headcount of the girls to know –” 

A piercing cry from near the south gate of the Shrine cut the old woman off, and both Priestess and Slayer whipped toward the sound. A girl, no more than nine, was half-running, half-stumbling toward them, frightened tears streaking down her face. 

“Komatsu!” the old Priestess blanched as she caught sight of the small apprentice’s busted, bloodied lip. With a sob, the young girl flung herself into her elder’s arms and clung tightly to her. “What on earth –?” 

“Sister Y/N!” the girl called Komatsu wailed, and Giyuu felt himself go cold. “Granny – th-that man – he’s a monster!”

The head Priestess paled in recognition. “Susumo?” Giyuu’s gut clenched at the name. The old woman knelt before the girl, her hands clutching wildly at her slim shoulders as she shook her lightly to recenter her. “Komatsu, was Susumo the monster?” 

The young girl nodded. “He was so – hiccup – fast! I didn’t even see him!” She only cried harder. “And t-then Sister Y/N – she grabbed the coal pan and dumped it on him until he let go.” Komatsu trembled as she lifted a shaking hand to wipe at her cheeks. “A-and then she t-told me to r-run –” 

THe old Priestess caught the girl’s quivering chin in her hand and forced her to meet her eyes. “Where is Y/N, Komatsu?” 

Komatus’s eyes were wide with fear. “She ran,” she whispered. “Into the woods – b-but Granny – she was bleeding –” 

The Shrine’s Priestess turned to the Slayer, ready to beg him to follow after the demon and her apprentice, but the Water Pillar was gone. For a brief moment, she feared all hope was lost; that they’d been abandoned and non one would be able to save the young Miko – her heir – from whatever horrid fate awaited her at the ends of Susumo’s crazed, brutal claws.

She caught a flurry of movement right against the dark line of trees that snagged her attention; a flap of the edge of a mismatched haori, and the glint of a blade being drawn, its wielder already furiously making his way into the shadowy depths of the forest. 

The Priestess exhaled and clutched her trembling young trainee to her chest. As she soothed the shaken young girl, the old woman prayed the Water Pillar would not be too late.

–

She was fucked; well and truly fucked.

Y/N had no idea how long she’d spent sprinting furiously through the forest, but she knew she was quickly running out of stamina. Worse, it seemed the demon on her heels knew she was slowing, and was now playing with her. But even his patience seemed to be at its wit’s end; for a sudden sharp blow to her back sent the Miko flying several feet forward until she slammed against the uneven, rough terrain of the forest floor.

Y/N gasped for air that would not come as she tried to push herself up. Crawl! Her mind begged her body. Crawl, damn you!

A dark chuckle from behind sent every hair on her body standing straight on end. A hand locked around her ankle and flipped her over until she was nearly nose to nose with the demon crouched over her. “Got you,” he sang, and the moonlight glinted off the sharp edge of his fangs as he grinned. 

Her fingers found the handle of the knife the Water Pillar had gifted her in her pocket. With a determined grunt, she pulled it free and plunged it deep into the meat of his shoulder, praying furiously to any god who would listen that she might have hit an artery so that he would bleed out. 

The demon loosed an enraged scream and fell away from her, hands blindly fumbling for the blade.  

No longer pinned beneath him, Y/N  scrambled back. Her hands scraped against the broken brush and pebbles below her in her desperate attempt to put distance between herself and the demon rising to his feet ahead of her, snarling. As he began advancing toward her, Susumo gripped the knife she’d buried in his shoulder and with a grunt, he wrenched it free and tossed it carelessly to the side, right along with the last shred of any hope she’d had of making it out of the woods alive.

The demon’s mouth curled into a cruel, savage grin, the moonlight glinting off his long, wicked fangs. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he growled, saliva dripping down his chin as his nostrils widened to scent her blood and her fear. 

This was it; there was nowhere for her to run, no weapon she could try and protect herself with. There was nothing she could do; she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Just as Susumo drew upon her, close enough that she could smell the rancid, pungent odor of rotted meat on his breath, he stumbled back, startled. 

One moment the demon was standing mere inches from her, ready to devour her whole; the next, he was sent sailing back, his body smashing into the trunk of a nearby tree with a sickening thump! 

A blur of dark matter soared over the Miko’s head toward the monster. Susumo barely had time to stand before the shadow converged on him once more. There was a flash of light — the moon reflecting off metal — followed by a dull thud. The shrine maiden’s heart lodged in her throat as she watched the head of the former village drunkard roll across the forest floor before distingrating, his body following soon after. 

She was nearly hyperventilating as the shadow turned to face her, but the pall of the moon finally illuminated the face of her savior — her Water Pillar.

“G-Giyuu,” she stuttered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears of relief that washed over her all at once.

But Giyuu did not respond, his lapis eyes narrowing in on the dark stain spreading across the white of her kosode. Y/N cowered at the cold, unbridled rage that contorted the ordinarily stoic Hashira’s face as he began to shake at the sight of her blood. In a flash, Giyuu had closed the distance between them and knelt down by her side, gripping her wounded arm in his hand as he tried to pull her tattered sleeve down and  inspect her wound.

“Tomioka — Giyuu,” she pled, trying to wrench her arm from his iron-like grip. “Please, it’s not that bad —“

“Did it get you anywhere else?” Giyuu demanded harshly, and the authority underlying his tone made Y/N fall silent for the first time since she’d known him. “Did it -“ the Water Pillar hesitated. “Did it touch you anywhere else?”

Y/N was trembling, and the Hashira’s hand around her arm tightened. “Ah!” She winced. “No, I promise, Giyuu, it’s just a flesh wound, I’m fine-,”

“You are bleeding. You are not fine.” Giyuu snapped back. “You could’ve been killed, or turned, or -,” the Water Pillar began to hyperventilate, and it shook the young Miko to her core. The Water Hashira was normally so unflappable, so stoic, that his panicked anger frightened her.

“-So do not tell me you’re fine,” Giyuu’s rant continued. “Not when you could’ve — not when I might’ve failed — not again --”

She was at a loss for what to do as she watched the raven-haired man struggle to form words. Vaguely, she recalled the way the Granny-Priestess had once explained to her that when someone panicked, they needed to regulate their breathing, and there were many ways someone could help force another to breathe properly…

Stomach fluttering, Y/N’s free hand came up to grip the fold of the Water Pillar’s haori. Giyuu’s incessant rambling only ended when her lips urgently pressed against his own, his eyes going wide. A heartbeat or two passed and then the Miko pulled away, her eyes serious as she stared at the stunned Water Hashira.

“You need to give me a sword.” She told him, earnestly, her face blazing.

———

Giyuu helped her back to the Shrine, though the Miko found herself needing to bat off the Water Pillar with a stern reminder that she’d only sustained a small arm wound as he’d tried to scoop her up into his arms.

The Swordsman had been rather subdued the entire journey out of the forest, his eyes curiously wide and dazed right until the pair breached the tree line at the edge of the Shrine’s property. The moment they stepped into open ground, they were swarmed by the tearful, relieved faces of the Shrine’s inhabitants. Words of gratitude to him were woven through worries over the Miko’s arm wound as they made their way across toward the small infirmary which, thankfully, had not been touched by Susumo’s fire.

The honden itself was still standing; though the flames had finally been subdued, smoke still curled up toward the sky, blocking any view of the moon or the stars. 

The head Priestess waited for them outside the infirmary. Though her face was grave, Giyuu could spy the relief shining in her eyes. He stood numbly by as the Miko and her master regarded each other warily for a moment, before the elder Priestess reached forward and yanked her charge forward into a fierce embrace.

“Reckless girl,” she chastised gently against the side of Y/N’s head. “Thank every one of the gods that you’re safe.” The old Priestess’s eyes found those of the Water Pillar. “And thank you, Lord Tomioka.”

Y/N was promptly escorted inside to have her wound examined and stitched. Despite the old shrine keeper’s gratitude for his aid in saving the young shrine maiden, that thankfulness apparently did not extend to permitting him inside the infirmary with them, and for good reason. For under the Elder’s withering glare, the Water Pillar realized that Y/N’s treatment would require her to be stripped of her kosode, leaving her exposed and bare. 

As unwilling as he’d been to part from her, the thought of witnessing the Miko undressed and vulnerable had been enough to temper his urge to look after her, if nothing else because the mental image of her in such a state flustered him to no end.

Though, he supposed his bewilderment also had something to do with what had transpired between them in the forest.

Kissed him; the shrine maiden had kissed him. 

His fingers drifted to his lips. They still felt warm where they’d been graced by hers, and he swore he could still feel the softness of her mouth from where it had brushed against his. 

He needed to talk to her; he needed to know what the hell she’d been thinking, kissing him like that. 

But as shocking as the Miko’s kiss had been, there was something else, something far heavier, that weighed on his mind. 

She’d nearly been killed. By a demon. On his watch. 

He should’ve apologized; he should’ve begged for her forgiveness for letting her come that close with death. For letting her get wounded because he hadn’t been fast enough.

I was concerned for you, he wanted to tell her. I thought I would be too late.

No; concern didn’t cover it; did not do near enough justice to his true emotions upon learning the Miko had fled into the dark forest with a hungry, loathsome demon hot on her trail.

He’d been scared; terrified; almost beside himself at the possibility that he’d be too late and find that she’d already been reduced to the beast’s meal, 

He’d been scared he’d never again see her smile or hear her laugh, and that had terrified him more than anything. For it was the memory of both that soothed his anxious nerves each time he startled awake from visions of his dead loved ones, demanding to know why they had died in his stead.   

He’d feared that he would have to add her face to those he saw when he slept — the faces of those he’d failed to protect, who’d died for his sake. He’d been terrified of seeing her image in painstaking clarity, just as he saw the faces of his sister and Sabito every morning. 

He did not know what to do with them, these confusing feelings, so abundant and intense that they’d welled up within him and threatened to spill over. He couldn’t name them, let alone begin to untangle the knot they’d formed within his heart. All he knew was that every one of them were inextricably tied to her. 

His shrine maiden. 

His.

—

Y/N’s arm ached, but it had been properly sewn and bandaged, and there was work to do before she could settle in for the night; and so, she found herself helping her peers with cleaning up the courtyard from the debris of the night’s events. 

Truthfully, she'd been grateful for the distraction. Occupying herself with cleanup meant she did not have to think about what she’d done in the forest. But then Granny Priestess saw her trying to heave away broken wood with her freshly stitched arm and Y/N found herself forced to abandon her fellow trainees as the old bat smacked her upside the head and squawked about how she was going to break her stitching and complicate the healing process.  

The Miko tried not to pout as she retreated, opting instead to grumble over the old woman’s dramatics as her arm stung and her ego throbbed. When she finally returned to her sleeping quarters, exhaustion slammed into her, making her limbs heavy and leaden. Unable to quite rally the energy to crawl into her futon, she slumped against the doorway of the room, her head and her heart a tangled mess of emotions she couldn’t quite name.

What she’d felt the moment the Water Pillar had stepped into the moonlight had been more than mere relief that he’d managed to save her life for the second time. She’d felt safe, so unbelievably safe that the forest itself could have been on fire and she wouldn’t have been afraid; not as long as he was there with her.

Something between them had shifted; that much was clear. In truth, things likely had begun to change the moment she repaired his haori, and she’d admitted to him her deep-seated loneliness and lack of belonging.

She only hoped he felt the change, too.

—

Much to Y/N’s chagrin, autumn was quickly giving way to blasted winter.

Though, the Miko hadn’t been able to fully resent the rapid shift in the seasons; repairs at the Shrine had consumed nearly all of her attention, and as Granny’s heir, she was expected to contribute to its reconstruction more than any other trainee.

That expectation meant Granny left the task of figuring out how to finance the necessary repairs entirely to her young protege. Y/N had spent all of two days agonizing over ways to raise the necessary funds when she awoke to find a mysterious sack of money that had been left on the doorstep of the honden. Inside had been an amount more than generous to cover the cost of repairs from the fire, with a hefty remainder that could be put toward other necessary improvements to spruce the Shrine up, and perhaps restore it to its former glory. 

No note had been left with the money to indicate the identity of the Shrine’s benefactor.  But amid all the excitement of her peers at the thought of being able to afford materials and laborers to assist with the more difficult aspects of the Shrine’s refurbishment, Y/N had spotted a familiar crow perched high in a nearby tree.

That position had afforded the bird with a perfect view of the money sack, allowing it to silently ensure it fell into the proper hands. But repairs had finally slowed, and Y/N now found her days returning to normal. Almost. 

What was not normal was how agitated she'd become in waiting for his return.

Another week passed without any communication from the Water Pillar, and the Miko had grown desperate for any sort of distraction. She found herself one late, autumn morning passing the time in the Shrine’s garden hut. She was pretending to be searching for tools that would help her prune the wilting Shrine garden when something grazed against the small of her back. Startled, she turned and was greeted by familiar, unruly raven hair and a pair of deep azure eyes. 

“Giyuu,” his name slid easily off her tongue, and suddenly she could not remember why she’d called him anything else. 

A ghost of a smile graced his lips. “Hello, Y/N.”

A poignant silence followed, and her cheeks grew hot. "Don't mind me," she said quickly, turning her head away from him as she pretended to organize stray gardening supplies. "I am only just now finishing my tasks for the day."

Though he remained silent, she became acutely aware of the way Giyuu’s eyes followed her as she tried desperately to keep herself busy, to avoid having to meet that piercing, discerning stare. 

“I did not get a chance to properly thank you after the turmoil of that night,” she said casually. Nervously, she hoped that his heightened senses did not alert him to the way her heart fluttered in her chest, or how her stomach flipped in her gut. Her nails dug into her palms as she lifted her head to meet that unnerving, fathomless stare.

But the Water Pillar had already closed most of the distance between them, having moved so silently she’d not heard him, despite even the creaky, uneven slatted floor of the garden hut. “How is your wound?” He asked softly, his hand skirting up the outside of the arm Susumo had wounded. “Has it healed?” 

It took a great amount of effort for Y/N to remember how to keep her breathing steady. But she forced her lips into an easy smile as she rucked up the flared sleeve of her kosode to reveal her bicep. “It will likely scar,” she admitted, her fingers lightly tracing over the three, angry red marks that remained imprinted on her skin, though they’d fully scabbed over. “I consider myself quite lucky, all things considered.” 

“Why did you do it?” 

The Miko ducked her head, willing the sheet of her hair to fall and conceal her mounting blush. She did not need to ask him to clarify; she knew after what he was asking.

But she feigned ignorance all the same. “I don’t know what you mean, Tomioka-sama –” 

“Don’t call me that,” and even though she refused to meet his eyes, she could sense his irritation at her avoidance. “We’re well past such formalities, Y/N.” Giyuu stepped closer to her, his cerulean eyes melting into something more akin to the midnight blue of the evening sky. “You kissed me. That night.” The Water Pillar’s hand glided up the arm that Susumo had injured, caressing softly over the healed skin beneath the sleeve of her kosode.

“I-I did no such thing!” Y/N sputtered, though her reddening cheeks betrayed her. “I was only attempting to help you calm down — you were panicking, and inconsolable.” 

Giyuu’s responding smirk only served to irritate her more. “Should I thank you then, Y/N?” His hand slid from her shoulder to below her chin, his delicate fingers curling to tilt her head up towards his, as he closed the distance between their bodies. “Should I show you how grateful I am that you were able to assuage my worry?” 

Y/N tried to focus on anything but the feeling of Giyuu’s breath — warm and enticing — against her face as he leaned in close. “You had no reason to worry; I was completely fine before you showed up.” 

“Fine,” the ravenette scoffed, his grip on her chin tightening slightly. “So fine that you were bleeding and about to become that beast’s snack — or worse.” 

“But you saved me, did you not?” Y/N whispered, unable to stop her eyes from dropping to the Water Pillar’s sensual, soft-looking mouth before rising once more to meet his punishing gaze. “And then I helped you.” 

Giyuu’s second hand brushed against her waist and the shrine maiden thought she might leap out of her skin. “You did,” he conceded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small, half-smile. “Though I apologize that you needed to do so — I suppose I become a little over-zealous when things that are precious to me are threatened.” 

Even if she could have thought of some witty remark to throw back at him, those words surely would have been blocked by her heart as it lodged in her throat. 

Things that were precious to him. She was precious to him.

“So I’ll ask again, Y/N,” Giyuu whispered, and his nose brushed delicately against hers. “Should I thank you for your assistance?” The fingers beneath her chin stroked her jaw. “Should I kiss you?” 

She fought to suppress the excited shudder that licked up her spine. “Yes, Lord Hashira,” she breathed, and her stomach turned cartwheels as Giyuu’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “Perhaps you should.” 

“Who am I to deny the request of a priestess?” Giyuu murmured, and then his lips were moving against hers, warm and soft. Y/N’s fingers flew to clutch the Water Pillar’s rocky biceps beneath the soft cloth of his haori, anchoring him against her. The hand that had gripped below her chin slid to the side of her face, tilting her head so that the Water Pillar could have better access to her as he pressed his lips harder against hers. 

Y/N moaned into his kiss, wanting him closer, impossibly closer to her than he currently was. 

Giyuu broke away from her once, though he kept a hand on the back of her neck to keep her in place. “What are your duties today?” 

Y/N’s fingers curled around the front of the Water Pillar’s haori, her forehead resting against his. “None of import.” She gave him a sly smile. “No one will miss me if I am gone for a few hours.” 

Giyuu returned her smile with a tiny smirk of his own. “In that case,” he tugged her hand and he began to lead her towards the grassy overlook where they’d spent a great deal of time talking and learning one another. “I could use your assistance.”

–

Y/N hadn’t greeted the sunrise with the intent to neglect her shrine duties, but she couldn’t say she regretted how she ended up spending the day.

They spent the day resting on the hillside overlooking the shrine grounds, rolling back and forth upon the browning grass as they kissed each other again and again. 

“You weren’t wrong, that day — right after we met,” Giyuu gasped against her lips as they broke apart, the blush on Y/N’s cheeks a sure match to his own. “I do not find you captivating.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth parted, a protest on her tongue when Giyuu surged forward, his lips brushing against her neck. The Miko’s words choked off with a squeak as the Water Pillar danced his lips to the hollow of her throat, his tongue flicking out once right where her heart pulsed wildly. 

“I think you are utterly transfixing; enchanting,” he breathed against her skin. “You have cast a spell over me that I do not want broken.”

“I find it hard to believe anyone could wield that sort of power over a Hashira,” Y/N’s voice was high pitched as Giyuu’s lips made their way back to hers.

In the back of her mind, Y/N wondered if his words were motivated purely by his physical desire for her. It would not have surprised her if he was only so taken with her because he longed to be touched; held. Like him, she’d gone much of her life without intimacy from anyone. She could not blame him for seeking it from someone so willing to give as she. 

“But you are not just anyone, not to me.” was all he replied, his lips moving softly against hers once more. “You are…everything.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The Water Pillars words, dripping like honey from his lips, were only sweetened by the fervent sincerity of his eyes as he pulled back to gaze into hers, so deeply, she felt as though he could see every thought in her head.

She wondered if he lowered that piercing, discerning stare, whether he’d be able to see straight to her heart, too; see how it bore his name. 

Even though her breath guttered in her throat at his words, her heart clenched painfully in her chest. The idea that she’d attached more meaning to their relationship than he, that perhaps she’d overestimated her value to him made her tense, made her want to push him away and —

“You’re distracted,” Giyuu murmured against her lips, brushing his nose against hers. “Your thoughts are loud.” 

Her fingers caught the front fold of his haori, fiddling idly with it. “There is nothing for you to repay, you know. You do not owe me your time or your attention. I know the Shrine is simply a part of your designated patrol. I understand if its convenience is the only reason —” 

A single finger pressed itself against her lips, quieting her. “You think and talk too much.” The ravenette chastised. Her mouth parted, a protest forming on her lips, when he cut her off again. “Ah ah,” Giyuu silenced her with his lips, his tongue flicking out to skim along her bottom lip. Above her, he shifted and allowed his weight to fall against her, pinning her beneath him. Reluctantly, his mouth broke away from hers. “It is my turn to speak.” 

“I do not come to the Shrine because it is easy,” Giyuu’s lips brushed hesitantly against her jaw. “Nor do I come here out of any preconceived obligation to repay your kindness.” 

He pulled back to study her, panting and flushed beneath him. As his eyes slowly combed over her, Y/N felt a strange knot pull and twist in the depths of her stomach. “There is only one thing that brings me back here, no matter how exhausted I am after weeks of endless missions; no matter how often certain junior Corps members pester me to train them.” His eyes narrowed at the hollow of the Miko’s throat, exposed by the way her kosode had shifted as the pair of them rolled around the grass. Curious, Giyuu leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against it. 

And then he did the unthinkable;  the Water Pillar moaned, ever so softly, against the fluttering of Y/N’s frantic pulse. The sound, so rich and full of need – of want – washed over her and drowned out all other thoughts, all other higher reasoning from her mind. INstead, the Miko was left with nothing but the sharp urge to press her thighs together, an unknown heat beginning to pool in her most sacred area. 

“Do you know what that thing is, Y/N?” He whispered against the soft dip in her throat, his breath hot as it fanned across her skin. “Can you guess what it is I cannot stay away from – could not, even if I desired otherwise?” 

His fingers dropped to the collar of her kosode, tracing lightly over its crisp, white fold. “When I close my eyes in the mornings, it is your face I see,” he murmured. “It is your laugh I hear in my dreams; your scent I find myself longing for when I awaken.”

The Miko shivered as his index finger traced from her collar up her throat, over her chin until it came to rest on her bottom lip, gently stroking over its curve. “It is you I seek to turn to remind myself that there is still good in this world – good still worth protecting. Why is that, Y/N?” His eyebrows furrowed and he seemed almost earnest in his question. “Why is it that my mind refuses to be occupied by anything but you?” 

“Because I vex you,” she said softly, eyes wide and locked with his. “Because, try as you might, you’ve never been able to fully fit me into a box as you have with others.” 

Giyuu shook his head. “Vex me?” He tsked at her. “Perhaps once that was true. But now? I desire you in ways I can hardly understand, and it drives me mad.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “What are you saying?” 

“I think I’ve been rather clear,” and instinctively, Giyuu rolled his hips against hers, desperate to relieve some of the friction mounting in his groin. “And it’s that I want –” 

But the Miko did not get to hear what Giyuu wanted; not as he was drowned out by the screeching cry of a bird from high above. Only, this bird was not the dull, graying crow she’d come to associate with her Swordsman.

“I thought your crow was older?”

The Water Pillar frowned as he turned to look up, his eyebrows drawn together. “That’s not Kanzaburo — that’s one of the Master’s —“

“CAW,” the bird circled above their heads in narrow, rapid turns. “Lord Tomioka! Return to headquarters immediately!”

Giyuu’s jaw clenched. “Can it not wait?” 

Y/N, however, only gaped up at the bird flying above them. “It talks —?” 

But the crow only cried again, “Emergency meeting at headquarters!!

With a short, frustrated exhale, Giyuu rolled to the side of the Miko and rose, but not before he extended a hand and helped lift her to her feet.

He gingerly brushed some loose grass from her hair. “I’m sorry.” 

She only shook her head as she reached to adjust his haori, righting it in his shoulders. “It’s your duty, Giyuu. I understand that.”

He scowled back up at the bird still circling above them, bleating a refrain of “Emergency! Go now!”

“I’m not finished with this conversation,” Giyuu said plainly, a frustrated hand working through his hair. Though his annoyance was plain as day, it fell away as he looked back to the Miko at his side, his gaze softening. “Nor am I finished with you.” 

A single finger reached under Y/N’s chin and lifted her head toward him so he could brush another kiss against her lips. “I will come see you – soon.” 

With a shy boldness, the Miko rose on her toes and gave him one final kiss, and Giyuu’s hand tightened where it rested against her waist. “I’ll wait for you, Lord Hashira.”

———

December, 1915

Y/N cursed at the ancient priestess who insisted on using only gas-powered lanterns rather than the newer, much safer, electric powered lights that other shrines had begun using. 

“We are an esteemed shrine dating back hundreds of years,” the old crone had simpered, “Tradition has kept us going this far!” 

Y/N hadn’t helped her cause by asking whether tradition or spite was what kept the hag from dying off and finally leaving her in peace.

And that was how the young Priestess-to-be found herself stomping through the snowy grounds of the Shrine, forced to light each and every lantern by hand using a match and oil, utterly by herself.

She knew better than to levy such an obvious taunt at the old woman, but admittedly, Y/N hadn’t been in the best of moods as of late. 

Giyuu had not returned since that day on the hillside, when he’d kissed her silly and told her he could not stop thinking of her. It was as though he no longer existed; even the crows at the Shrine were no more, having all disappeared one morning before she’d awoken.

As the weeks passed, the weight of his absence had grown heavier, threatening to beat her into the ground below. 

But Y/N had done her best to hold her tongue over the last weeks as her anxiety mounted, and Granny should’ve known that — so really, it was her own fault if she’d taken offense to the Miko’s barb.

She grumbled and cursed under her breath as she trudged toward the small garden hut standing at the furthest edge of the Shrine’s grounds — her last stop of the night. She shoved past the old, rickety door and braced her merrily flickering, hand-held lantern out before her, bathing the small hut in a warm, orange glow.

All was silent and quiet within the small storeroom. The air was cold, though the slatted walls of the hut offered some protection from the howling, snow-dotted winds outside. Determined to complete her task and return to the comfort of her warm futon, the Miko fumbled around one of the store shelves for a small can of oil. 

“It’s you,” a quiet voice startled her from behind, and Y/N nearly dropped the lantern clutched in her hands.

But she did not feel afraid as she recognized the calm, soothing cadence of the voice, that voice that belonged to the one person capable of making her blush. 

The one person who held her heart.

“It’s been a while, Giyuu. I was wondering when I’d see you again.” She turned and saw the raven-haired man standing in the doorway of the garden hut, his face characteristically neutral, though he seemed tense, even more so than usual.

Instantly, she moved toward him. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes tightened, and the darkness which swam within them betrayed his aloof facade. “Things have changed quickly in my world,” he began, and she saw his fists clench at his sides. “We believe the demons are preparing for war — and so we have been as well. 

“War?” She repeated softly, her step faltering. “I hadn’t realized the demons were so…organized.”

Giyuu nodded. “One creature is responsible for all demons. He is the orchestrator; he is the one we must kill, and we believe the opportunity to do so is drawing nearer.”

The monotonous cadence of his voice fell away as he quietly added, “That is why I haven’t been able to return — we’ve been training. This battle — it may start at any moment.”

He made like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself, pressing his lips into a tight line. 

“And?” She prompted gently, taking a solitary step toward him.

“He hesitated, and she spied how his throat worked to swallow. “And I do not know when I will be able to see you again. After tonight.”

Y/N watched him for a moment, her eyes searching his. “When you say you don’t know ‘when’ we will see each other again,” she began, cautiously. “Do you mean ‘if?’”

Giyuu’s answering silence said more than any words could. 

For a moment, the Miko could not remember how to speak, not as she felt the organ in her chest splinter into a thousand, mismatched pieces.

“I just wanted to see you,” the Water Pillar struggled to swallow around the growing lump in his throat. “One last time.” 

She could scarcely breathe. 

He was leaving and he might never return. 

Leaving to go try and put an end to the scourge of demons that plagued their world. It was a noble thing to do; sacrifice in its purest form. 

But she hated it. 

She was filled with such a deep melancholy that it nearly brought her to her knees. As the Water Pillar turned to leave, Y/N couldn’t stop herself as she reached for him, her arms encircling him as her hands locked over his front, stilling him.

“Giyuu,” she said thickly, her face pressed into the back of his haori as she willed the tears in her eyes not to fall. “Giyuu.” 

He turned in her grasp and looked down at her in awe, a finger rising to brush the errant tear that had escaped down her cheek as he held her gaze. 

The flame within her lantern flickered as Giyuu softly grazed his lips against her own, Y/N’s arms weaving around his neck to hold him close to her. 

His hands were gentle, if not a little uncertain as they found her waist, but once they came to a rest against her, he pulled her close, arms winding around her middle and holding her securely against him as he deepened the kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair as she opened up for him, his tongue gliding alongside her own until she was left breathless and wanting. 

Vaguely, the Miko was aware that he was walking them deeper into the garden hut, allowing the old door to thud shut behind him, and the thought of not returning to her plush futon suddenly did not seem like such a loss. 

Giyuu’s hands returned to her face, thumbs stroking softly along her cheeks as he broke their kiss to brush his lips against her eyes, her nose, and forehead. Y/N’s hands parted the Water Hashira’s haori from his shoulders as Giyuu’s fingers dropped to her collar bone, sliding beneath her kosode, and grazing her bare shoulder. 

“You have been my most treasured encounter,” he whispered, and she felt her heart seize in her throat, tears threatening to spill anew from her eyes.

A year’s worth of interactions had all led to this moment, but it was not the satisfying payoff of the tension and longing that had been steadily building between them.

This was a goodbye. 

Because it was likely that the Water Pillar would not survive the impending battle; but neither did he want to leave this end untied. 

She had known, deep in her heart, that this affair had been doomed before it had ever begun, but that hadn’t stopped her from falling for the kind, brave, selfless man now kissing her like she was his entire world anyways. 

She would not get to have him in the morning, so she resolved to give herself to him for the night. 

Giyuu’s hands eased her kosode from her shoulders, exposing her to the cool air within the garden hut. His warm hands, however, worked to chase away any chill that spread across her skin as he ran his palms over the curve of her shoulders before sliding down to rest on her bare waist, his long fingers grazing just below the curve of her breasts.

Her own fingers trembled as she fumbled with the buttons on his uniform shirt but in time, she’d worked them open and Giyuu broke their kiss long enough to let his shirt drop to the floor beneath them. 

The two stood there for a moment, chests rising and falling rapidly, as they looked at one another, half-nude and vulnerable. The shrine maiden and the slayer knew that they had come upon a precipice, and if they stepped off that ledge, there would be nothing to break their fall. 

Y/N made the first move, taking a tentative step towards the Water Pillar as she trailed her fingers lightly up the beautiful, sculpted ridges of his abdomen, relishing how warm he was beneath her touch. 

Giyuu shivered beneath her fingertips as the miko’s hand came to a rest against his sternum, marveling the way his heart thundered beneath her hand. “Are you certain?” He breathed, his face was impassive, but his own uncertainty was betrayed by the slight tremor in his voice. His hand rose to gently cup the side of her face, his thumb ghosting over her bottom lip. 

She reached to grab the Pillar’s free hand and brought it up to rest against her sternum, mirroring her own hold on him so that he could feel the steady drum of her own heart — and how it thrummed for him. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m yours, Giyuu.” 

Once, she had believed the Hashira incapable of expressing anything other than cold aloofness. she’d not been able to comprehend the subtle ways with which his eyes could signal his mood; how they darkened when angry, or how the outer corners turned up, almost imperceptibly, when he was content. 

But she had long since learned to read him, and so, her stomach fluttered at the way the raven haired man’s gaze heated with both adoration and desire — for her. 

Giyu brushed his nose against hers affectionately before bringing their lips together once more, his kiss growing fervent as her hands slid up to tangle in his ebony hair. Y/N gasped into his mouth as she felt Giyu bend down, his hands gripping firmly under her thighs as he lifted her up, forcing her to lock her legs around his waist. Her lips parted, and Giyuu’s tongue slid seamlessly into her mouth.

Her lover locked one steely arm firmly around her lower back to support her as Y/N felt him lower them to the floor to lay her down, the Water Pillar’s free hand coming to brace against the back of her skull, to protect her head from thudding back against the wooden slats of the hut floor. The Miko steadied herself, prepared for the cold bite of the dirty hut floor to nip at the bare skin of her back, but she was only settled against something warm and soft; something that smelled distinctively of the Slayer panting above her. 

Her fingers dropped to her side and grazed against the familiar fabric of Giyuu’s haori; his most prized and cherished possession, spread out beneath her to protect her from the cold ground,  a makeshift bed against which she would let him take her and make her his.

He withdrew his lips from hers to sit back, his cerulean eyes tracing over every inch of her, from the way her dark hair spread out in a soft halo around her, to the blush staining her cheeks. His eyes darkened as they lowered to her bare chest, at the way it rose and fell jerkily as Y/N struggled to control her breathing. 

Giyuu’s long, slim fingers reached out to trace along the top of her scarlet hakama pants, his finger tips just grazing along her ribs and the underside of her breasts. 

“I’d never known such -,” He covered his struggle for words by pressing a sweet kiss against the hollow of her throat, a soft gasp escaping the Miko at the unfamiliar sensation. “Such beauty,” Giyuu’s lips trailed down to skirt across the ridge of her collar bone. “Not until I met you.” 

His face was against her sternum, pressing kisses as he trailed his lips down her skin. “I am sorry I could not give you more time.” His voice was soft, softer than even she had ever known. Before she could respond, Giyuu’s mouth hesitantly brushed against the stiffened peak of her breast, and Y/N’s mouth fell open with a soft cry. 

Azure eyes flashed up to meet hers. “Is this — is this okay?” 

The Miko's eyes fluttered shut as she nodded, unable to trust that she could hold her voice steady if she spoke. Her fingers weaved their way through the Pillar’s thick, raven locks, and she grazed her nails against his scalp in encouragement. 

Giyuu grunted softly at her touch, and he leaned forward to suck more of her soft mound into his hot mouth, teeth grazing lightly against her nipple as he explored her. 

“Oh,” she moaned, her thighs inadvertently pressing together as Giyuu’s tongue and lips worshipped her bared flesh, licking and sucking and nipping at her in his devotion. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured against the soft, sensitive skin of her breast. “So very beautiful.” 

He repeated the movement again and again before he traced his mouth across her sternum and began lavishing her other breast with the same fervor. Her hands fisted in his hair as she mewled for him, enamored with the feeling of his hot mouth latched around her. He gave her more and yet it was not enough; every pass of his tongue over her stiffened peak only amplified the ache between her legs, only made the emptiness she felt more pronounced.

A breathy, whining and needy moan blew past her lips in time with a reflexive buck of her hips against his.  

The ravenette pulled off her breast with a start, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed as he gazed down at her in awe. “Do that again.”

“W-what —?” She pushed herself up on her elbows to look down at him, her chest heaving.

“Tell me what to do,” Giyuu’s breath was ragged though his fingers continued trailing down her sides, seeking out the ties securing her bottoms around her waist. “Tell me how I might help you make that sound again.” 

“I –” Y/N squirmed beneath the intensity of his gaze, her thighs rubbing together to stifle some of the electricity she felt between her legs. “I want you to – I need you closer.” 

Her eyes drifted to the bulge that had formed between the Hashira’s thighs, and she felt her heart skip in her chest.

Giyuu pressed his groin against hers and ground. She gasped at the spark of pleasured friction the movement stoked between her thighs, and her eyes flew to meet his, only to see they were as wide as hers. 

And just as hungry. 

Her hand gently cupped his face. “Closer. Please.” 

He pressed his cheek into her palm and with a soft groan, his fingers quickly loosened the fastenings of her bottoms and then he was pushing them down her hips and over her legs, discarding them carelessly to the side. Giyuu sat back on his knees and let his eyes roam her, now fully bare and laid out beneath him. 

When his appraisal of her finally reached the thatch of curls between her thighs, the Water Pillar loosed a shaky breath. She had half a mind to cross her legs, to conceal the most intimate part of her body from the raging fire of his gaze as he studied her, but she forced herself to remain relaxed; open.

One, broad and calloused hand stretched tentatively out to run along the outside of her hip and down her leg, before smoothing back up in the inside of her thigh. His eyes flicked once to hers, and then he leaned forward and brushed delicate kisses down her abdomen, over her hip and along her thigh. He continued his descent as he slowly pushed himself back from her, and once he imparted one last, sweet press of his lips against her ankle, he rose. 

The flickering light of the lantern cast shadows along the alabaster of his skin, further accentuating how the muscles of his torso and abdomen flexed and shifted as he worked to free himself of the remainder of his clothes. His eyes did not leave hers, not even as his hands found the buckle of his belt and tugged it loose, and Y/N found herself free falling into their depths.

The ravenette dropped his belt to the floor, and then his fingers were at the waistband of his trousers, pulling and fiddling with their fastening. At last, Giyuu freed his lower half from the confines of his uniform pants and stepped out from the puddle they made at his feet. 

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as her eyes raked over his beautiful form, so lean yet solid and muscular. Her cheeks burned with a renewed blush as her gaze followed the small, dark trail of hair beginning just below his navel, and down between his hips, where the evidence of his desire stood proud. 

Her throat went dry. He was large — the flared head of his tip nearly grazed his navel, and his width was a little more than two of her fingers. Her thighs clamped together nervously, as she pondered how on earth she’d be able to accommodate him.

Giyuu noticed her hesitation, and a faint dusting of pink spread across his cheeks. “I have never -“

The shrine maiden shook her head. “Nor I,” she whispered, though the knowledge that this was as new to him as it was to her helped ease the clench in her stomach. For all her nervousness, the Miko could not ignore the heat and longing which burned within her as she lifted her eyes back to his. She found her muscles softening as she saw the same fire within those cyan pools she’d come to love. Y/N laid back against the floor — against the comforting soft of his haori, and let body relax, her legs falling open to him. 

She held her hand out to him, beckoning, “Come back to me, Giyuu.” 

The ravenette did not hesitate as he returned to her, covering her body with his own as he pulled her in for a heated kiss, the weight of his hardened length resting heavily against her hip as he settled between the cradle of her thighs.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, instinctively rolling her hips against him, desperate to feel closer to the man who had claimed her heart before she’d realized anyone was capable of holding it.  

Giyuu groaned, softly, against her as she repeated the movement, breaking their kiss to look down at the flushed Miko threatening to drive him wild with her silken touch. As much as he was desperate to feel her — every part of her — he knew what they were about to do would not be nearly as pleasurable for her as it would be for him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the Water Pillar’s eyes were stormy, a tempest of competing desire and pain at the idea of causing her even the slightest discomfort raging within him. 

Y/N brushed her lips against his once before trailing along his jaw, pausing only to suck softly as the soft spot beneath his ear. “I am only ever undone by you; never hurt.” 

He moaned softly, lowering his head back down to reclaim her mouth firmly with his own, his lips beseeching her to let him consume her. 

She was only too happy to do so, parting her mouth so that his tongue could slide in and dance languidly with hers, as he reached between them, gripping hold of his aching length and positioning himself at her entrance. 

The first brush of his hot, velvety tip against her folds broke their kiss, both gasping at the new yet intoxicating feel of the other’s most intimate area. 

Giyuu braced his free arm by her head, his fingers stretching to run comfortingly through her hair, as he pressed his forehead against hers. “If it becomes too much, just tell me, and we can stop.” His voice shook ever so slightly as he waited for her signal, the ache in his groin becoming nearly painful. 

The Miko grazed her lips against his throat. “Don’t stop.” She murmured. She hitched her legs higher up on his hips, angling herself so the trembling man above her would have better access to her. 

Slowly, so very slowly, the tip of Giyuu’s length began to push into her, and Y/N felt herself temporarily forget how to breathe. Above her, Giyuu’s eyes squeezed shut in a concerted effort not to sheathe himself within her in one stroke. 

“Y/N,” Giyuu panted, unable to stop the shaky moan that fell from his lips as he sunk into her warm heat that wrapped tight, so impossibly tight around him.

The shrine maiden winced at the unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable sensation of being slowly stretched and filled by the Pillar. She felt as though she was a wave, crashing and breaking and parting around a rocky shore with every inch gained by the press of his hips against hers. 

Giyuu hardly had a quarter of himself seated within her when he felt his head brush against a thin barrier. His eyes opened to look down at the Miko, panting beneath him, her eyebrows pinched in slight discomfort. When she noticed he’d stopped, she peered up at him through her thick eyelashes, her cheeks flushed. 

The hand Giyuu had held at his base to help guide himself within her lifted to grip her hip, her legs relaxing as his fingers massaging soothing circles into her flesh. Giyuu removed his forehead from its resting place against hers and he buried his face into the side of her neck as he pressed his body flush against hers. The hand he’d used to brace himself found hers, and he lifted to rest above her head, his fingers twining tightly with her own. 

“I’m okay,” she whispered, pressing a sweet kiss against the shell of his ear. Giyuu nearly shuddered at her words, and he pressed his hips forward, his cock finally breaching that thin, inner barrier to the rest of her welcoming heat. 

Y/N cried out at the bright spark of pain that flared through her as Giyuu claimed her as his own, but the Pillar held her steady, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her neck. 

A hitched gasp blew past Giyuu’s lips as he became fully seated within her heat, her core gripping him like a vice. He panted against the sweat-dampened skin of her neck as they both adjusted to the sensation, her nails digging harshly into the skin of his back as she waited for the discomfort to subside. 

Giyuu pulled his face back to look down at her, the hand he’d had on her hip rising to cup her face as he brushed his lips across her cheeks and eyes. 

“My beloved, are you all right?” His breath came hard and fast as he panted, the growing friction between where they were connected becoming hotter, more demanding the longer he remained still. 

Y/N’s eyes slowly opened to meet his, he felt her relax as he kissed her, slow and gentle. 

Her lips broke from his and she nodded, shakily. “You can move — just hold me. Please.” 

Giyuu let his full weight fall against her as he wound an arm tightly around her waist, his other hand tilting her face up so he could kiss her fiercely, eager to show her what she meant to him when his words otherwise failed to do so. As she opened up to him, tongue flicking out shyly along his lip, Giyuu rolled his hips experimentally against hers. 

Both the shrine maiden and the Pillar cried out in unison as Giyuu’s movement stoked an intense pleasure where they were joined.

It was like a spark of flame had ignited between her legs before shooting up to her belly, making her insides clench and pulse. 

It was addicting, and, judging by the way the raven haired swordsman above her hissed, he’d felt that jolt of electrifying pleasure, too.

“Oh,” Giyuu moaned as he began to move atop her, his cock sliding in and out of her heat as he worked to set a pace. “You feel – this is –” his stutters broke off  into ragged pants that melted into broken moans with every movement as he found his rhythm.

The grip he had on her hand tightened as he pulled back from her neck in favor of watching her body jolt and bounce with each of his thrusts. 

His head dropped down to study how his length, now coated in something shiny, appeared with every long draw of his hips out before disappearing back into her warmth. 

He threw his head back. “Heaven,” the Water Pillar groaned out, a tendon throbbing in his neck as another cracked moan slipped free from his throat. “You are heaven.” 

Shallow thrusts turned deeper, more purposeful, as the Water Pillar settled into his tempo. Each push of his hips opened her up more, bit by bit, until Y/N’s limbs liquified and she was left moaning and whimpering in time with his movements.

One particular thrust made her cry out, caused her legs to reflexively tighten around Giyuu’s hips as something hot flared deep within her stomach. 

“M-more,” she managed, her voice tapering off with a squeak. She needed to feel that spark again, wanted to feel that jolt of electricity that made her stomach clench. “P-please — ah!— Giyuu —“ 

With something between a moan and a growl, Giyuu  angled himself to thrust deeper, his weight pushing her hips back from the floor. Her legs were forced to hike higher up his waist, her ankles locking instead against the dip in his spine rather than his backside. 

The new angle meant that Giyuu was able to hit at a spot that sent a bolt of lightening between her legs, and she could feel herself tighten around him. 

The combination of her walls fluttering and pulsing around him and the strange fullness she felt was both overwhelming and exhilarating. She did not think she could stand to feel empty again; to not feel him consuming every inch of her.

Gradually, the small garden hut was filled by the sounds of their pants and moans, weaving together to form the melody of a song meant only for them.

Giyuu began thrusting harder, and soon, a dull clap of skin began to reverberate off the hut’s slatted wood walls, adding a steady beat to the rhythm of their pleasure. Though the air inside the hut had been nearly as frigid as what lay beyond its door, both the Miko and the Slayer found themselves coated in a thin sheen of sweat that made their skin glisten in the faint, orange glow of her lantern.

Above her, the Water Pillar was as lost in his pleasure as she. Guided purely by instinct, Y/N arched her lower back away from the floor until her breasts were flush against his sternum, desperate to feel that jolting spark between her legs. 

She felt the walls her of her core clench tighter around Giyuu’s length with her movement, and he answered her with a deep growl as his arm cinched tighter around her waist.

Deep; he was so deep within her, that she wondered whether he might reach her soul before they had to part.

Giyuu’s thrusts quickened, the base of his groin grinding against that sensitive spot between her thighs that had her wanting more as she moaned, her thighs squeezing the Hashira’s hips.

His head was thrown back, his eyes tightly shut as the most beautiful sounds of pleasure Y/N had ever heard poured from Giyuu’s mouth.

“I — fuck.” He growled as one arm tightened around her waist to the point of pain, the other grabbing her hand to bring it to his lips in a futile attempt to stifle the sounds lilting from him like song. 

His name fell from her lips like a hallowed oath and Y/N’s legs fell to the side, allowing Giyuu to chase the crescent of his release, as hips pistoned into her with wild abandon. 

“Y-Y/N,” her black-haired beauty of a lover grit through clenched teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. “My treasure, I-I’m gonna-“ 

The Water Pillar buried his face into the side of her neck, cradling his groans into her throat, and Y/N could feel his length twitch within her.

As Giyuu’s hips slammed into her one final time, so to did the realization that she loved this; she wanted always to be this close to him, wanted always to be unable to tell where she ended and he began.

She loved him. 

But the bitter truth was that she’d never again get to hold Giyuu the way she was right then, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she felt something warm gush through her, a pleasured groan, so beautiful and husky tumbling from the Hashira’s lips as he pressed a sweet kiss against her collarbone. 

She would not get to love him past this most sacred rite. 

If she were honest, she’d likely never again experience this intimacy with anyone, for as long as she lived — for how could anyone else ever possibly compare? 

She supposed she’d been doomed to never hold onto the people who were meant to love her since the day she was born. She should’ve known better.

But as the roll of Giyuu’s hips into her heat slowed, and his labored breaths eased, Y/N could not find it within herself to regret it; to regret him. 

Because, fool though she was, she loved him. 

Giyuu collapsed against her, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck as he came down from his high, still buried inside her as the two panted. 

Her hands moved of their own accord to card through his raven hair, fingertips massaging his scalp as his breathing slowed, his breath adding further moisture to the already sweat-dampened skin of her neck. 

She wished they could remain like that always; that the dawn creeping over the horizon would not herald forth the sun, and they could stay on the floor of the garden hut forever, wrapped in one another’s embrace. She desperately wanted to memorize the tempo of his heart as it beat steadily against his chest, the vibrations of which she felt against her ribs. Such a beautiful melody, it was, and yet it filled her with such despair to know she might never again hear its sweet song; that it might cease playing forever, the moment Giyuu resumed being the Water Pillar once more, and walked through the shrine gates for the last time. 

But Y/N had never had anyone she could call her own, and as much as she loved the man nuzzling her neck as he whispered sweet nothings against her skin, he’d never been hers to keep. 

“My beautiful, beautiful Y/N,” Giyuu murmured, kissing his way up her throat to her lips. “Are you alright?” 

She held his lips for a moment before breaking away, letting her eyes roam his face, and she nodded. “Are you?” 

To her utter surprise, the Water Pillar chuckled softly, his laugh breathy and his smile heartbreakingly beautiful. “Yes, my treasure. I am more than alright.” 

He brushed a kiss against the tip of her nose. “After all, I am with you.”

———-

He’d brought her against his chest and they’d laid there together, simply staring at one another, trading soft kisses as Giyuu traced a finger over every feature of her face at least twice. 

If he was to die, he knew his last thoughts would be of her, and he wanted to be sure he’d committed every last detail of her face to memory.

Soon, far too soon, the deep indigo of the night sky was broken by the first, watery rays of morning light, and both the Miko and the Slayer knew their time was up.

The lovers dressed quickly, their backs to one another as both steeled themselves for the goodbye they could no longer avoid. 

And now, that time had come. Though it was Giyuu who walked to his likely doom, Y/N felt as if she was embarking on her own death march as the pair drew near the towering Shrine gate. Perhaps she was; after all, he would be taking her heart with him, and she was unlikely to get it back.

Y/N did not know whether to lean in and kiss him, one last time, or whether such a display of affection would only scratch at the gaping, open wounds they now bore on their chests, where their hearts had been. 

Giyuu, apparently, did not know what to do either, so the two only stood there beneath the Torii, eyes swimming with emotions neither could bear to voice. 

There was a beat, and then the two moved toward one another, drawn together like magnets as they locked themselves in a tight embrace. Giyuu’s hand cupped the back of her skull as Y/N pressed her face hard into his shoulder. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his haori, desperate to keep him rooted to her — to life, safe and away from demons. 

But he couldn’t stay; she knew that. And so, with a deep inhale in a desperate attempt to memorize that mahogany and citrus scent of his she so adored, Y/N pulled away. She made to step back from him entirely, to put distance between them, but those warm fingers caught her under her chin, tilting her head up to face him before his hand slid to cup her cheek. 

The emotion swimming in the azure depths of his irises threatened to chisel away at the lock she kept on her own. Tears burned in her eyes, but she would not let them fall; she would not make this harder for herself — for him — than it already was. 

“If you do not hear from me, leave the mountain. Go to the city, and do not go out at night. Keep your dagger and wisteria on you at all times, even when you sleep,” Giyuu’s eyes were serious, the hand on her face holding her in place. “Live, Y/N. Grow to be an old woman. Die only from age.”

The shrine maiden closed her eyes as she willed herself not to cry. “And if you win?” 

Giyuu hesitated for a moment and Y/N knew better than to ask him to make a promise he could not keep. 

“Send a crow, if you can.” She whispered, feigning a small smile. “It would be nice to not be afraid to go and gather night-blooming herbs.”

The Water Pillar nodded, his hand smoothing through her hair one last time as his lips pressed against her forehead. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

She didn’t need to ask what for.

She hoped she’d never forget the way he said her name; the longing and the breathless passion that dripped from every syllable, and the way it sent shivers down her spine. 

Giyuu broke away from her and set off towards the east. Y/N watched until he was nothing more than a speck on the horizon, before he disappeared entirely. 

He did not look back. 

————————

He hadn’t trusted himself to look back at her, though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to turn around and behold her beauty one last time. But the Shrine Maiden had become his largest weakness, and Giyuu knew if he’d looked back, he would never make it back to his estate; to the Corps. 

And if you win? She’d asked him, and he hadn’t been able to form the words of the answer he’d so desperately wanted to give her.

Because while Giyuu Tomioka never made promises he couldn’t keep, that did not mean he didn’t hope. Right then, more than anything, his greatest desire was to win this war; win it, and come back and tell Y/N that she no longer needed to fear the night. 

In any other life — if Giyuu had been any other man — there would be no question as to who he’d choose to spend the rest of his days with. 

And so, Giyuu thought as he forced himself to march forward, his eyes burning, if he made it out of this war alive, he would go back to the Shrine and tell Y/N of their victory himself.

And perhaps she’d then allow him to make her his wife.

Keep an eye out for Part II to see if Giyuu comes back and makes good on his promise!

COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND LIKES ALWAYS APPRECIATED!

[hypewinter]

Prev

Tim came down the stairs with an empty mug in hand. As he entered the dinning room he found a kid happily eating pancakes. Ah this must be the new adoptee, he thought to himself as he recalled last night's group chat.

"This is not a new adoptee," Bruce said looking up from the boy. Man, Tim hated when the old man guessed their thoughts like that.

"Say whatever you need to convince yourself B," Tim replied with a shrug as he went into the kitchen.

Bruce shouted after him, "He already has a family!"

The boy immediately interjected, "She's not my family silly! She's my friend."

Tim chuckled to himself as he filled his mug and came back into the dining room. "Aw B," he said smugly, "he doesn't even have a family. You're not saying we're gonna leave him on the streets are you?"

Bruce for his part, glared halfheartedly at Tim before turning back to the little boy. Tim also took this time to observe the boy. He believed Oracle had said his name was Danny. Danny was currently happily kicking his legs as he stabbed at his pancakes. Tim couldn't help but note how the pancakes had already been cut into bite sized pieces. Other than that, he seemed perfectly fine. No apparent injuries or adverse reactions to sudden movements. His clothes were also nice and clean. Probably Alfred's doing. Speaking of the old butler, he came in and set a plate down in front of Tim.

"Oh I'm not-" One eyebrow raise was enough for the young man to shut his mouth. He looked down at his plate only to immediately turn back to Alfred with an eyebrow raise of his own. "Mister Danny claimed it was not fair he was the only one to receive such special pancakes. He was rather insistent that everyone experiences such happiness this fine morning," Alfred informed.

Ah, that explains why Tim had gotten star shaped pancakes. He looked over at Danny who was smiling giddily at him. As Tim took his first bite of pancake, he couldn't help but agree with that assessment.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Danny?" the boy looked up at him. "As you know our... mutual friend left you in my care. As such after you're finished with your pancakes, what do you say I take you back home?"

"Ok!" the boy replied before shoveling more pancakes into his mouth.

"I think I'll tag along too," Tim said. There was no way this little "drop off" was going to go as planned and he wanted to be there to see it. After all, someone had to keep the group chat updated. Besides, he took great joy in Bruce's half perplexed half annoyed expression.

"Don't you have some meetings to attend today?" Bruce asked through gritted teeth, guessing his son's angle. "Nope," Tim answered sweetly. "My schedule's all clear today."

"Fine," Bruce relented. "If you want to come along on this very quick drop off, I won't stop you."

Tim smiled into his mug. This was gonna be fun.

-----

"We're here!" Danny exclaimed as they pulled up to an abandoned looking apartment building.

"Are you sure this is your home?" Bruce asked cautiously. Tim couldn't blame him, this place was on the outskirts of the Bowery and looked like nobody had lived there in years.

Danny opened the door and hopped out. "Yep!" he said. "I know because I'm a big boy and big boys know how to get home." He puffed out his chest proudly.

"Right," Bruce muttered pensively as he examined the building.

They all entered the building and began ascending the questionable stairs with Danny taking them two steps at a time. As they climbed, both Bruce and Tim noted how rundown the building looked. Walls were peeling and there was rubble and trash all over the floors. The railing on the stairs looked so rusted that a gust of wind could probably knock them over. Most of the lights didn't work because of one thing or another which luckily wasn't a problem considering it was daytime. But none of that was even the most concerning part. No, the most concerning part was how silent it was.

As they walked down the hall, it was simply too silent. Even taking into account that most people would already be at work right now, it was still too quiet. There was no hint of people coming back from work the night shift. No sound of those staying home sick or someone with a day off. No dogs barked, no cats made any noise. It was an eerie silence that seemed to blanket the whole building. It was unnerving.

Danny stopped in front of a door and opened it with ease. There was no lock or anything. Once again adding to the list of concerning evidence. They entered after Danny to discover a shabby looking flat past the door. There was barely any furniture, and the furniture that was there looked like it should have been thrown out years ago. The floor boards seemed as if they would give way at any moment too. The windows to the far side allowed lighted in but that only served to illuminated the mountain of dust everywhere. The apartment didn't even look lived in. There were no clothes anywhere, no dishes, no sort of decorations, nothing.

Danny seemed undeterred by any of this and happily pranced into a room off to the right. Tim followed him as Bruce stayed behind to look around more.

As he entered, Tim was relieved to find that at least this space looked lived in albeit barely. The bed had Superman themed sheets on it and there was a backpack leaning against the closet. The bed also had a blanket laying on top of it which Danny ran to and grabbed. He came back over to show Tim.

"This is my most precious thing!" he explained excitedly. "My friend gave it to me. Feel it! It's super soft."

Tim knelt down and felt the blanket which was black and had stars all over it. "You're right," he said. "It really is soft." Danny beamed. "Told ya!"

Tim smiled at the boy's obvious excitement despite his less than stellar living arrangements. Just then, Bruce called for him. Tim returned to the main room with Danny in tow, still clutching onto his blanket.

Bruce turned to him and handed him a piece of paper with an unreadable expression. The paper had cursive scrall on it that simply read, Take care of him my knights.

Danny looked up at them both curiously and Tim just sighed. So much for this being a quick drop off.

[avocado-writing]

home

pairing: 14th doctor x reader & 10th doctor x reader

rating: E

notes: no gender or age given for reader, just that you last saw the doctor fifteen years ago. thank you to @mcganns for being my beta!!

This too shall pass.

It was a sentiment that you had to cling onto when he left, because fuck knows it was the most painful thing you’d ever felt. And you’d run away from actual explosions before. Big ones, in space! Supernovas which could eat entire planets while you hung onto the side of a little blue box. 

And yet none of it even begins to compare to when he fucking left you. 

He said it wouldn’t be forever. Well, he shouted it at you as you fell out of the TARDIS. There was a time explosion, and you got rocketed back to your little flat in the middle of Hackney, on Earth only a few days from when he’d picked you up — but in your reality months of adventure had passed. 

You’d not really settled back in, certain that he was going to come and rescue you. But then days turned into weeks into months and you finally accepted that the Doctor had abandoned you. 

So you went back to it all. Your mundane little existence before a mad, brilliant man had whisked you away. Your boss was a bit miffed that you’d gone AWOL but you were their best employee so they couldn’t afford to let you go, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a command not to let it happen again. The people you loved didn’t really seem to notice your absence that much, which stung; you couldn’t blame them though. You’d probably not miss you much either. 

The Doctor. He made you feel special in a way nobody had before. Like you were the centre of a whole, giant, fantastic universe, and he adored you for it. 

Still. 

No point mulling that over again, is there?

Fifteen years. Things did get better. You moved on eventually. But you still find your thoughts drifting back to him every once in a while, and that fragment of time you spent totally utterly in love with each other. When you think about the way he kissed you, without realising it you end up touching your lips.

No. No. Stop. 

The singing of the kettle snaps you back into reality, and you pour yourself a hot cuppa. Ah, tea. The antidote to everything. You go to turn the radio on for some company as you shift into your morning routine when you hear a knock at the door. 

Probably the postie. He’s a bit early today, you think, but make no more of it as you undo the latch and open the door. 

Your heart stops. 

Because there he is, of course. 

Older. Weathered. Not the young man you once knew but a grownup version of him, as exhausted by life as you are. 

You drop your mug. Quick as a flash the Doctor grabs it out of midair. The tea sloshes onto the floor but at least nothing gets shattered. 

He goes to look up at you, but his attention is drawn back to his hand. 

“I bought you this mug years ago,” he says, utterly amazed. 

You shut the door in his face. 

Well, you try to, anyway. But he sticks a foot in between the door and the frame, with one of those stupid Converse he always wears.

“I know you’re angry, I know. But please let me come in.”

It’s such an absurd statement you find yourself laughing, a high and desperate noise. 

“Absolutely not!” Actually, no. That’s not enough. “How dare you. Why are you even here?!”

“Because I wanted— I needed to see you.”

You still want to slam the door on him, but there’s a desperation to his voice that gives you pause. And when he looks at you with those sad, puppy-dog eyes? Those eyes as lined with age as you are?

Fuck. You’re so weak. 

So that’s how you find the Doctor sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him. You lean against the counter, defences still up, eyeing him from over the top of your mug. He drums his fingers against the tablecloth. 

“I like your house. Your calendar is nice, I enjoy the kitten motif.”

“Don’t,” you spit, slamming the mug down and sloshing tea onto the floor, “don’t you dare. You don’t get to waltz back here and start telling me ‘oh, I enjoy your furnishings, haven’t you made a nice little life for yourself since I abandoned you!’ I let you in to speak your piece, though god knows why. Say it and be done.”

The Doctor looks deflated. His shoulders sag, mouth falls. You take a moment to properly look at him. He seems… tired. Tired in a way you never knew him to be when you went on your adventures. Part of you wants to offer comfort, but the other part of you wants to withhold it maliciously. Anything to make him feel the way you felt. 

“I looked for you,” is what he settles on, heavily. You didn’t expect that, and it knocks you. 

“What?”

“I did. After the explosion, I tried searching all over the galaxy for you. I didn’t know where - when - you’d ended up. I scanned and scanned but something stopped you from appearing on the TARDIS’s sensors. I think… the amount of artron energy emitted during the blast somehow cloaked you.”

You say nothing, your silence an invitation for him to continue his explanation. 

“It took years. Literal years, for me. Every spare moment I had, I dedicated to looking for you. Head buried in the circuitry of the TARDIS, trying to fix whatever was hiding you, gave myself a couple of nasty shocks too. And, when I finally tracked you down, I’d regenerated.”

You blink. Right. Yes. He’d explained that, but you’d never seen it with your own eyes. The same person, a different face. 

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me if I didn’t look like me. But I had to try anyway, didn’t I? So I came here. To your house. I got myself all ready for it, knocked on your door… and found that you were married.”

Your fingers grip the counter. 

“Oh.”

“He seemed nice. Loved you a lot, as you deserved. And I couldn’t tell you I was back, could I? I saw you pottering around in the kitchen, making the tea - you were always the best at making tea - and you were happy. How could I ask you to leave that all, uproot the life you’d made for yourself, just to jump back in the TARDIS with me? How could I be so cruel? I couldn’t, could I. So I left again. Tried to move on. Like you did.”

You’re crying now. You can feel hot tears slide down your face and soak into your jumper. 

“Oh, Doctor,” you manage. You want to tell him so much. It feels like it might burst out of you. But instead you settle on:

“Why now?”

He smiles thinly. 

“Because somehow I got this face back, and I wanted to see you. I wanted to be selfish for once.”

You find yourself at the table, on the wonky chair opposite him, sliding your hand over to cover his. It’s rough and warm. Just like you remember. He says your name with reverence, but like it pains him. 

“I never stopped loving you. Ever. Through it all, every adventure, I knew it wasn’t complete because you weren’t there. It just wasn’t the same without wonderful, brilliant you,” he admits. He sounds defeated. It breaks your heart — or, actually, it might just put it back together again. 

A beat passes. His confession lingers in the air, heavy, thick and choking like smoke from an untameable fire. 

“His name was Simon. He was a baker. He was lovely, actually… and we got divorced two years ago.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows. 

“You… what… why?”

“Because he knew there was someone else I never really let go of. Someone else who, despite everything, I still loved.”

He looks you in the eyes, and you see something glimmer there that you long since gave up on. 

Hope. 

And then, suddenly, you’re kissing. 

It’s like nothing has changed. His lips are still rough and searching on yours, a hint of tongue giving away into more the deeper you entangle. He sits you up on the table and steps into the space left by your spread legs, and between each kiss he says your name. It’s full of adoration but lined with desperation, too. 

Like the kisses he gave you the first night you laid together, on a bed in his spaceship floating across the galaxy. When he buried himself inside you and you felt his two hearts beat in rhythm with your own. 

“Doctor…” you manage. 

Fuck. You need him. You didn’t realise how badly you needed him. You didn’t realise a piece of your soul has been missing this whole time, fucking torn out of you and leaving a jagged hole in its wake. And him, back, telling you he loves you and always has? You’re patched together like kintsugi. 

Your Doctor is the molten gold you need. 

“Please. I need to…” he’s so desperate he can barely get the words out, but you nod; he’s undoing the belt buckle of your jeans and pulling them off like they’re silk. When his thin waist meets yours you cross your ankles behind him and lock him into place, and his hands - a little fumbling, a little nervous to be mapping out the plain of you again - begin to trace your chest. You lean into his touch to let him know yes. This is okay. I want this. Make me whole again. 

His warm, rough palms slide under the hem of your shirt and lift it easily over your head, the only break in a while you take from your kiss. You let yourself grab his tie to bring him closer. He’s fully dressed still and you’re almost naked; you remember how he used to like that, enjoy feeling a bit more put together than you. Cheeky blighter. Still though, as his suit scratches your skin, you can’t say you don’t agree. 

However. In this instance he has far too many clothes. 

You tug at his jacket and he knows what you need, letting it fall to the floor with his tie and waistcoat following it. He ruts against you as he unbuttons his shirt a bit, not the whole way, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of his chest. He’s so skinny. You’ve always been a bit worried that, on one of your rougher days, you might snap him in half. You still are now, actually. 

Cupping his face in your hands you let your thumbs caress his cheekbones. Your Doctor. Older but the same. Just like you. 

You can feel him more than half-hard against your leg. No more time wasting. You need him. You need him, you need him, you need him. 

It doesn’t take long to undo his fly and have him in your hand. You’ll always be glad he chose this human anatomy. Though you’d love him no matter how he looks, there’s something wonderful about his cock as it is here. He lets his head fall forward onto your shoulder with a moan if your name. 

“Oh… you’re…”

“Mmm hmm,” you agree, a genuine smile passing your face for the first time in god knows how long. He’s just the right length and on the thick side, and you know what a delicious stretch he is when he pushes inside of you. You can’t wait to feel it again. A couple of pumps and he’s ready, dripping precome and a ruddy red. Another time you’d bend down and taste him, remind yourself what a Time Lord’s cock is like. But now today. Well, not now. 

You lay back, readjusting yourself so he can push your underwear to the side and find your entrance. A couple of fingers - those long, delicate, clever and cunning fingers - press inside you and test you out. You’re ready for him. He makes a choked noise in the back of his throat as he realises and you laugh, properly, throwing your head back. 

“Come on, Doctor. Show me that you’ve missed me.”

He used to never shut up. And now he’s stunned into a desperate silence, lining up with you and pushing in as he does his best to make you feel what he’s been feeling too. 

A loneliness is fixed. He slides home inside you and your hips meet, the both of you letting out a long and ragged breath. You sit there for a moment, locked in the most intimate embrace, and just feel each other. You fist your hands in his shirt. He’s here. He’s real. You feel him trace his palm up your back as if you assure himself of the same thing. 

Slowly he begins to move. It is a long and lovely drag, his cock hitting all the points you missed being touched, and when he feels you gasp he goes harder. The Doctor nuzzles into the skin of your neck, nestling to the warmth of you there, and you hear him repeat a mantra both of your name and “I love you”.

Over and over. As if the two phrases are inextricably linked. 

You’re so full. You’re so light. Everything feels perfect in this moment. And when he reaches between your bodies to touch your sex, push you to the edge, you know you’ll climax for him embarrassingly fast. 

When you come you see stars light up behind your eyes. The sky, the unfiltered and untamed sky takes you over. The Doctor says your name one final fine and releases inside you, his hips riding it out as if to savour every second in the sweet grip of you. 

He can’t look at your face when he asks you. He says it from the safety of your shoulder where his face is buried, because if you say no you know his heart will shatter. 

“Come with me, in the TARDIS again. I know I shouldn’t ask you to leave your home but… you complete me, you know. Always have.”

“Leave my home?! Doctor, don’t be daft. This is just a house in bloody Hackney. You’re my home.”

You pull back to meet his gaze. He’s tired, but bright. His eyes twinkle. And there’s the Doctor you know. 

“And of course,” you continue. And, as the smile engulfs his face and he lights up, “it’s not like I’m doing anything else, am I?”

This time, when you go AWOL from your job, you never come back. 

[ericshoney]

Trying and rating baby food ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: When Nick, Matt and Chris try baby food for their Wednesday video, their little sister Y/n wants to try it too.

Warnings: none that I know

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

"I can't believe we're actually doing this." Matt mumbled.

"It will be fun!" Chris exclaimed, but pulled a face as he saw the first baby food.

Nick, Matt and Chris were planning on eating baby food for their Wednesday video. Chris was shouting about the types of baby food, earning a slap from Nick.

"Try and be quiet, idiot, remember who's here and taking a nap." He reminded.

"Oh yeah. For anyone who doesn't know, our little sister is here visiting but she's having a nap in Matt's room after a day of running around." Chris said to the camera.

"Let's get on with the video." Matt said.

The trio started to try the various baby food items, a few of them not bad, a couple were terrible. As they continued on, you woke up and climbed out of Matt's bed, walking into the kitchen where they were. You noticed your older brothers sat at the table, but didn't quite see the camera.

"Ah shit, that was a bad one." Chris mumbled, trying to wipe the taste away.

You giggled softly, knowing it was a bad word he just said. You then walked over to Matt and tugged his hand. He looked down, giving you a soft smile.

"Hey bub, good nap?" He asked.

As he looked and talked to you, Nick and Chris looked over to see what was going on, both their faces lighting up upon seeing you.

"Yeah. Whatcha doing?" You replied, peaking up at the table.

"Trying baby food." Nick answered.

Matt picked you up gently, placing you on his lap so you could see better. Even though you were five years old, you were slightly small for your age.

"Wanna try." You said.

"Alright then. Guys we now have a special guest!" Chris cheered as you giggled and waved.

You watched as Nick grabbed the next one, saying the name of it. He opened it and put a bit on the spoon, watching it drip off back into the jar, making Chris scream.

"On three." Nick said, holding the spoons up. You all tried a bit, giggling at your brothers reactions.

"Not bad." You mumbled.

"Yeah cause it wasn't long ago you was eating this shi-" Chris replied, about to swear but cut of by Matt.

"Stuff!" He shouted, shooting the youngest male a glance.

"Chrissy said it earlier!" You exclaimed.

"What? When?" Nick asked.

"When I woke up." You answered with a big smile.

"Chris!" Matt scolded with a small laugh.

"I didn't know she was there!" He replied in defence.

"For anyone who doesn't know, we try our hardest not to use bad language around Y/n, we don't need her picking it up at such a young age." Nick said to the viewers.

You laughed again as you all continued trying baby food, the puffs being your favourite as you kept asking Matt for more. The guys smiled, happy to have spent a fun video with you.

[itsonlydana]

Noisy Neighbors | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

Your new neighbors have been the bane of your existence - or rather sleep - for the last few nights, always keeping you up with their extensive love life. When you go up to confront the couple, you find another solution to the problem.

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️| [modern!AU] threesome, oral (f receiving), anal sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v, slight choking, brats (reader & Thranduil), mocking & dirty talk, Thranduil being a snarky bitch, he bites a bit, spitting, one ass-slap, praise, pet names, dom!bard, [reader is described with hair no further, no use of y/n]

word count: 6,2k

an: *lifts hands into the air* I'm sorry but writing Thranduil bitchy in this trio is what comes naturally, alright? I've been powering through this whole Sunday and between watching f1 and eating watermelon and packing up for a vacation, this surely made this day better. (not proofread, just wanted this baby out)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

They’re at it. Again! 

Another night and you’re yet again held up by your neighbors fucking for the second time; on a Tuesday no less.

It’s 1 am and nearly seventy-three minutes – timed and noted down in your frazzled brain – after the noise had stopped the first time but now the moaning upstairs continues; this time accompanied by the banging of probably a bed frame that, if the force is anything to go by, is close to smashing in the walls. 

You haven’t seen the new neighbors that had moved into the apartment above you, there had been moving trucks, a handful of handsome and very good-to-look-at guys carrying furniture around the garden and blocking the elevator for hours, leaving cigarette buts around and ringing at yours so often you doubted it was an accident every time, but there had been no one who introduced themselves.

Well, not personally. 

Or rather in person, because what you hear every night is as personal as it gets. 

As you lie in your bed, alone one might add, you wonder who this couple is. 

Not that you have anything better to do. They’re the reason you’ve been either sleepless or fallen asleep to a lovely ASMR of two guys moaning that slowly snuck itself into your dreams; if anyone dares to say it isn’t appropriate or normal to think about the – sex – life of your neighbors you could counter that you had every right! Especially you. 

They’re probably young, you figure, not by the number of times they’re going at each other and the length, god, it has been a good while, that stamina is astounding, but by whatever coherent words you can understand now and again, their voices delimited the range of possible ages. 

And you had seen a pair of laced-up thigh-high black boots walking up the stairs after you had once heard the front door open and raced to peek through the peephole. Another time there had been a pair of very shiny and tight boxers left in the washing room downstairs and while you felt like a creep expecting them hanging on the line a few feet away from you, your basket clutched into your hands as you thought of the other renters here and how often you had seen their underwear, you concluded this must be one of theirs. The shoes as well as the boxers could belong to some older couple but that was most unlikely adding the different factors.

The names on their doorbell say ‘Oropherion & Bowmann’, though no Google search has brought up anything forth that could be them, nothing around this area anyway. 

Another moan rips through the night, guttural and raspy, and by now, that sound’s imprinted into your mind as well as the gasp and shout that follow. A few seconds of bed rattling later the boyfriend/husband/lover roommate with lots and lots of benefits reaches his peak as well in a deep moan that reverberates in your bones and sends a heat to your face and much lower. 

When silence falls, there’s an embarrassing moment of clarity as you release a shaking breath and quickly stand up on shaking legs to open your window, inhaling the cold air outside to fight against the urge to look up some porn and follow their example. 

They’ve gotten to your head, twisted up whatever the stress at work had left to be corrupted into this perverse lust. On the one hand, you’ll do anything for a night of full sleep but on the other hand… what you wouldn’t do to – no, no, no, this route is just a spur of restlessness. Leftover frustration over the last few exes, and dates being unable to bring out whatever your neighbors clearly had no problems with. 

They’re so vocal in their pleasure, that the last experiences of grinding against jeans in dingy club bathrooms or hookups ended in an unsatisfied call to a cab firm makes laying there, listening, fantasizing, even more unbearable. 

Not just because of the few residues of your consciousness, the blaring ‘this is so wrong’ -sign lighting up neon red in your head, but taking in their noises travels a long way through your body and you’re short of actually snapping and resolving the issue of the throbbing inside your pants yourself. 

The silence and air luckily help the cooldown; body and mind alike, and you wait, breathing in and out, calming down. Being up this late (or early) grants you the advantage of hearing the cicadas, the constant clicking, the low buzz of the aircon, and the distant rush of cars passing by. Somewhere there’s laughter, across the street, a TV light flickers through the white curtains fluttering in the opened window. 

People and animals are still up. Life’s going on. Another night of losing sleep isn’t the end of the world, even if the long day ahead will try defiling this feeling of peace that you conjure, brain hooked on the few meditation videos your friend has shown you recently. The stress of this situation manifests in an uncontrollable grumpiness that slips over your tongue and spills out of your eyes like thunderous weather clouded once bright skies – suddenly, one sentence meant nice gets on your nerves. 

You sigh and trot back to the pushed-back covers of your single bed, slipping your naked legs under the thin sheet. This is fine. Completely fine. You just need to close your eyes and concentrate on those damn sheep you had been counting before the rude interruption.

One sheep …. your shoulders sack into the pillow, relaxing slowly.

Two sheep … a heavy yawn breaks through your lips.

Three sheep … finally, you’ll be able to fall asleep. A few hours aren’t preferred, yet they’re better than no sleep at all.

Four sheep — and is that another. fucking. moan?

You sit up in your bed fast enough for dizziness to take over but that isn’t stopping any of the rage that switches your body to autopilot. In seconds after the godforsaken long moan echoes, you’re taking long and hard steps across your apartment, not caring one bit that you’re wearing neither shoes nor a long enough shirt to barely cover your ass and you haven’t even met them so this was neither an appropriate outfit nor emotion to confront them for the first time but fuck propriety!

“Fucking men,” you mumble underneath your breath as you waltz through your front door, – taking one step back to carefully push a sandal in between door and frame –, and then you’re up the stairs. Each step is fueled by that anger, the restlessness that pushes you over. In no other world would you have gotten this infuriated to completely ignore the otherwise introverted side of you, though they have taken it too far, “Just you wait.” 

You basically fly across the corner of the stairway, rushing up the last few steps until you see the dark door, boots standing in front of it, and before you can even think about what you’re about to do, your fists already collide with the wood once, twice, three angry times.

Four for good measure.

Five just because they’re surely taking their time.

Before your hand knocks another time, the door is being ripped open and you’re suddenly face to face with the nightly disturbers of your peace. Or rather face to chest. You’re certain your eyes are still angry because when you lift your chin to look away from those sweaty chests and find their faces, the man closest to you flinches the tiniest bit.

“You’re fucking loud,” you point a finger firstly at them, then down, pronunciation making it clear that you aren’t swearing per se, “I’ve been trying to sleep for so fucking long and I’ll give you one guess why I’m still up and about? Huh? Ever heard of compassion for neighbors or– I don’t know, holding in some of the noises?” Your chest heaves at the row of complaints that spills over your curled lips, cheeks hot and very possibly just as red as they feel.

There is a second of silence where your voice carries through the hallway, bouncing along the walls. 

You take the opportunity to give them a quick once-over, adding a wealth of new details to the mental picture you've been building. The man in front has dark brown, messy hair pulled into a ponytail, with some silver strands curling and sticking wetly to his forehead and temples. He sports a scruffy beard, with stubble on his pinkish cheeks and a thicker mustache over his lips. His body hair trails down, covering his defined chest, and extends further into the tight black boxers you saw in the basement.

The other one is strikingly different. Tall as well, towering over you though this has to do with the ice-cold and annoyed look that bores into you out of blue-grey eyes under heavy eyebrows. Long blonde hair falls over his lean chest, slightly ruffled but that’s no wonder after the two-and-a-half rounds in their bed. His lips are stuck together, adding to his attitude.

Both of them are gorgeous, dressed in nothing but boxers, and their bodies are marked by fingerprints and scratches. And while they surely are a bit older than you, that gap couldn’t be much.

“Wow,” the blonde, the one leaning against the wall behind his partner, the one being more long legs than anything else, rolls his eyes, “Aren’t you lovely?” 

You swear you nearly feel a vein pop. 

“Lovely?” you bring out between clenched teeth. 

The brunette shoots a look over his shoulder, getting a shrug out of the taller one in exchange that most likely means he doesn’t care one bit, and then he turns back to you, offering a crooked smile that sinks in the edge of the right corner, an apology pulling the plush lips down. “I’m sorry,” he starts and nudges his head back, “an’ excuse Thranduil, he can be very – bratty.” The thick accent that curls around the words slightly surprises you but you���re back on track fast.

One eyebrow raised you stare at them. “Sure,” sarcasm drips over your tongue, “and to shut him up you dick him down or what?” In the morning, you’ll probably very much regret this crude language, the dismissive tone that resembles more a hiss than anything else. 

“Yes, actually,” Thranduil cuts in and pushes his sharp chin up, looking down at you over the bridge of his nose. One of his hands, gods, they’re huge, lazily pats the broad shoulders of his partner, long and ringed fingers clanking together. He’s laying down heavily on some possessive shit you couldn’t care less about.

“Bite the curb or turn the moaning down,” you snap back, brows furrowed together. 

“Maybe –” 

“I’m Bard, by the way,” the brunette interrupts him and holds out a hand for you to shake. Hands, that had been who knew where a few minutes ago. Both of you seem to realize this at the same moment and while he cringes and pulls back, you offer your name, only looking at Bard and ignoring Thranduil, draped over Bard's back like a prying cat.

“Nice to meet ya. Thought about coming down a few times but never caught you home,” Bard says, attempting small talk. His effort is overshadowed by the sharp look-over Thranduil gives you, and it's clear that this is not the time to play the friendly neighbor.

You make that clearer by crossing your arms in front of your chest, unconsciously bunching up your shirt, and revealing the black string of your panties. Bard swallows, heavily.

“Well, nice to meet you,” you echo back dryly and cock your hip, “Can I go back to sleep in peace now? Are we done with this?”

Bard’s smile is pained, a bit embarrassed if you have to guess. “Sure, sorry again.”

“I’m not.” 

Thranduil hasn’t even looked at you as he whispers loud enough into Bard’s ears that it’s definitely meant for yours as well. And that piece of shit has the gall to flutter his lashes, his mouth ghosting over the hickey right against Bard’s neck, the offending lips curled into a smirk you want to wipe off. 

The sigh that leaves Bard is deep and deflates his whole chest, his shoulders following the drop of his arms. “Thran–”

“Oh, is that right?” On the contrary, you push your shoulders back and tip your head, sizing up the neighbor who, in your opinion, can move right back out again. No matter how pretty and unfairly sexy he is, that mouth of his ruins it. “Where do you pull out this fucking behavior? I just came here because you two have been going at it for hours and haven’t bothered to think about anyone else. I'm so sorry that –”

“Apology accepted,” Thranduil grins. His grey eyes are gleaming in amusement at your noticeable anger and he makes a high sound out of the back of his throat that sounds a lot like a giggle.

“Fucking hell, Thran!” Bard slaps his hand back, the flat of his palm meeting flexing muscles of Thranduil’s thigh, and lowly, sensually, Thranduil moans. This man is the walking definition of shamelessness.

That sound, the low vibration that usually comes through your walls, shoots to your core so fast that you sputter on the next breath. Hot curling heat makes itself comfortable in your lower stomach and you can’t help but blush – a feast for the unabashed man.

“If I had known we had such’ prude for a neighbor we would’ve found another place,” Thranduil says, most likely just to tease, because in the few minutes you’d known him, he’s definitely a teasing brat.

Ready to fight for yourself you shake your head and furrow your brows further.  “I'm not prude –”

“It’s okay” A Cheshire cat-like smile disproves the false compassion, making it all sound much more patronizing. Thranduil has gotten under your skin, an itch you yearn to scratch however you can, “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No, but I’m not a prude!” You lick your teeth, stepping closer to their door as if that will make your point more convincing than the tight vintage shirt you’re wearing, with a fading Care Bear printed right over your tits.

In mocking, Thranduil rests his chin on Bard’s shoulder, holding your slowly wavering gaze. “Not everybody is comfortable with such an active sex life.”

With ease he smothers every bit of self-control you have left, thinning out your resolve to stand higher than him. You glower, all the thoughts of failed one-night stands pressing onto your tongue and loosening it faster than you can realize what you’re spitting in front of their feet – one statement powerful enough to change the entire atmosphere into another type of tension:

"I would be if I would get it!" 

“Woah, let’s take it a notch back, shall we, hun?” Bard’s soothing voice could have been directed at each or either one of you two, and you notice how heavy your breathing has become, how much your hands twitch pressed against your breasts, and how Bard’s eyes flicker over where the shirt stretches tighter. 

Interesting…

The hand on Thranduil’s thigh wanders higher, immediately capturing your attention and it's the tanned color of it against ivory white that gets you. The difference in softness and hardness, obvious callouses moving over smooth skin. 

As subtly as possible, you shift your weight to squeeze your thighs together, heightening the throbbing evoked by every inch of skin in front of you. 

Neither Thranduil nor Bard misses it. You can tell it by Bard’s eyes darkening, Thranduil’s smirk widening dangerously and their stance, Thranduil’s arms slinging across Bard’s taut stomach, fiddling with the silky band of his boxers, as well as Bard leaning more right – opening up the way into their dark apartment.

“What if –,” Bard starts, fingers digging into Thranduil’s thigh.

Ice-cold eyes that suddenly burn with hot interest look you over, stopping right where the hem of your shirt exposes your underwear, “You could join us?” 

The offer shuts down your body as soon as your mind comprehends what Thranduil’s lowered, honeyed voice had presented to you and unfortunately, the inquiring “huh?” sounds much more like a whimper than originally planned. This question, this golden opportunity presented on a silver platter is fuel to the aching arousal pooling in your stomach and you can’t deny that, while lying in bed at night, listening to their intimacy, hadn’t evoked that dirty thought in you. 

Flushes of heat spread from your pelvis. You lick over your teeth. 

“What?” you laugh nervously. 

“You’ve heard us right,” Thranduil’s hand stills over the v of Bard’s hips. That he doesn’t move is nearly as taunting as the constant toying, wandering, and scratching he had done till then. 

“Pff as if –,” you stutter stubbornly, even if the pooling of wetness in your underwear betrays you, “as if.. as if I'm gonna waltz into the apartment of two strangers.. two men! You could do whatever to me!”

“Yeah, and you heard exactly what we could bring out of you” 

Their moans and the bed slamming against the wall are pretty good arguments against a case already won in their favor, despite how you’re still trying to grasp for straws.

“My organs when you strip me to the bed and murder me silently?”

“Jeez, you have an imagination woman. Is the stick this far up your ass that –”

“Babe!” Bard’s elbow lands in Thranduil’s side, warningly and soft just like his voice.

“No, let him finish” you glare at Thranduil, “I’d like to know what he thinks about presumed stick in my arse and its results.”

“I think you are prude and underfucked, jealous and so stripped up tightly you won't admit that a good fuck – and honey, I’ll deliver nothing less – would loosen you up,” Thranduil finishes his speech with a tip of his head forward, daring you to talk back and gosh, you wish you had some comeback, anything to prove him wrong, however, the wetness that sticks syrupy between your legs strikes out all other thoughts except:

You want them. You want both of these men.

“So—so what?” you retort, knowing they're right, a pout forming on your lips and a persistent crease of defiance. “That's such a testosterone-driven answer; typical man, thinking their cocks are the miracle cure to a woman’s dry spell.”

Even Bard tuts now, his soft eyes falling to your underwear. “You sure? Hun, you can whine all ‘bout but I can see your cute little panties being all wet – oh come on, don’t blush, I see them alright?” And sure, the material may cling to your cunt and the breeze in the hallway coming from an open window enhances that feeling, but– “Darlin’,” Bard chuckles, “Stop thinking, ‘s not that hard to accept you want it. Come on in, let Thranduil apologize sincerely for his hissy fit.”

You huff. 

Thranduil breathes a kiss toward you, pink lips forming a cute heart, and you only think: “Fuck it.”

Thranduil’s mouth, as he proves a few minutes later, is quite good at apologizing, fantastic even.

You’re spread on your back across their bed – ironically you find out it’s directly above yours –, legs opened up by his large hands, the metal of his rings biting ice-cold into the heated flesh as he kneads his fingers into your thighs and teases you most annoyingly by kissing all around your clit. His arms are wrapped around you in a way that's confining you to lie there and take whatever he decides to give you, or not in some moments.

“Pretty girl –,” Thranduil murmurs into the sensitive and practically vibrating skin, “Should’ve known there’s something sweet about that sour tongue.” His tongue is just as bitter, licking straight through your folds, gathering the absurd amount of wetness and ending shortly before your clit to press a wide opened mouth kiss into you. 

Your hips buck upward in desperation and at the same time exhilaration and Thranduil’s biceps flex to pin you down again; giving you no wiggle room.

“Better lie still,” Bard whispers and tilts your head back by the hand he wraps loosely around your throat. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he holds over you. His fingertips close in together, putting the right amount of pressure on your windpipe for you to gasp for air; then he pounces in and takes over your lips in a heated kiss.

Your behavior, because you do in fact give it your best to stop your legs from crushing the head between your legs, is rewarded by Thranduil with the assistance of his tongue finally flicking over your swollen clit, first playfully then in earnest. He closes his lips around the bundle of nerves, grazing his teeth slightly over it and your head would’ve fallen back if it isn’t for the hand holding you to Bard. “Oh fuck,” you whine and grasp down. 

The second you burrow your hands into Thranduil’s hair, twirling some strands around your fingers for a better hold, he moans into you. Hot air meets the wetness of your pussy and the tips of your nails dig slightly into his hair roots. It turns him on more, that you grind yourself desperately against his face, your hands weaved into his hair to get back control and Thranduil’s tongue swipes over your pussy, diving in to plunge the tip into your entrance. 

“That’s it,” he gasps, sending the words straight through you while he fucks his tongue back into you a few times. Then he switches back to sucking on your clit and doesn’t stop; no matter how your thighs shook and fought to shut close, he stayed on his task of taking you completely into his mouth and rolling his tongue in figure-eights, circling in closer and closer. 

The sounds of Thranduil eating you out are pornographic, slickness from your spit and wetness, his ever-constant breathing and relentless swirls through your pussy that have your back in a wonderful arch. Bard’s lips swallow most of your whimpers up, and when he starts to lick his tongue against yours, teeth playfully tugging on your lower lip, you feel the stars before you see them. 

It starts up fast, heading toward you at full speed and you choke out your orgasm in a broken wail, fingers tightening in Thranduil’s hair. When he doesn’t stop and stimulation becomes overstimulation, your eyes flutter to escape the nearly drunken stare of his gray eyes hidden under long lashes and finally, he slows down. Bard too, leaves your lips in one last, dragged-out kiss that you want to chase after; his mouth is too sweet and gentle, a perfect harmony of caring and hunger.

“All attitude until the attitude drips down her legs and messes up our bedsheets,” Thranduil laughs huskily and wipes the back of his hand over his glistening lips and chin. He puckers his mouth, a wide grin on his face as he crawls up to you. “Now, how do you want this?”

Breathless, you look up to Thranduil and Bard, the latter already moving to shed himself of his boxers. When you see what Bard packs under the tight black underwear a wheezing laugh escapes your throat.

“Yeah,” you scoff at his arched eyebrow, “I would be fucking that multiple times as well.” 

His cock stands heavy against his stomach, thick and bobbing, white precum rolling down the veins. “Like what you see?” Bard teases, one hand wrapped around himself, leisurely stroking up and down. “I’ll let you have a taste if you’re good.”

A large palm spreads over your abdomen and Thranduil slides two fingers down to pinch your still sensitive clit so you yelp and scowl at him. “You won’t be getting any of that tonight,” his voice sounds threateningly possessive, and at the sight of his much taller body towering over yours and that look in his eyes, your stomach flips. “Don’t think I’ll let you hop on there after you disturbed us. Tonight –,” Again, that word that emphasized like he did promises more nights after this, “tonight he’s mine.” The last bit he whispers into your ear, the soft locks of his hair brushing your still-covered chest. 

All that Thranduil had time to undress you for, had been your underwear and those had landed ripped into two somewhere in the darkness of their bedroom. This meant you would have to borrow some of theirs or rush downstairs with your cunt on display and after this should be over, you have no idea if you would even be able to walk. 

Thranduil, by the feeling of his bulge pressing into your stomach, isn’t small either. That cockiness had to have a source somewhere and they don’t call it that for no reason.

Bard’s laughter interrupts the staring contest you two have going on, otherwise you’re not sure how long it would’ve gotten on or who would’ve quit first; not you, he could poke his cock into you however he wants. The other man walks around the bed, heading to the end where Thranduil’s long legs hang off and by the sudden twitch in the body crowding yours into the mattress and the cry Thranduil lets out, you strongly think there has been a tickling involved. 

You laugh as well, the sound dying swiftly when Thranduil turns back to you and grinds his hips into you. All that comes out then, is a straggled whine. 

“Fucking asshole,” you grumble and pull on his hair again, forcing his head down for you to kiss his wet lips. 

Able to taste yourself on his tongue, you greedily open your mouth further, and Thranduil wastes no second to dominate. He takes over the kiss, distracting you just enough that you don’t notice Bard taking off Thranduil’s boxers until the cock against your stomach twitches at a particular noise out of the back of your throat and precum dribbles onto your skin. 

“Someone’s eager,” you tease.

Thranduil promptly bites you in return. “Says the slut moaning under me,” he retorts, scratching his canines across your neck. “Now, take that skimpy shirt off or I’ll rip it like that sad excuse of underwear.” 

You roll your eyes but follow his demand, pulling the tight shirt off and flinging it away. Free for him to touch, Thranduil’s fingers of one hand find your right tit, and, putting the rock-hard pebble in between them, he steals the air out of your lungs pulling and twisting your nipples. “At least, oh fuck you –!” 

Your attempt to speak gets drowned out by a cry of need and suddenly, you’re getting crushed into the mattress by Thranduil’s heavy weight, his fingers still tight around your nipple and his mouth close to your ear. His ass is the only thing not forcing you down. 

Bard, who has been silently chuckling and observing until now, decided the time’s right to move this forward and over the head of blonde hair pushing itself into the crook of your neck, panting hotly and frustrated, you see Bard circling his rim with two fingers. 

“So that’s what shuts you up,” you whisper for Thranduil to hear. 

He lifts his head slightly, though the angry eyebrows fall quickly at another moan.

Behind Thranduil, illuminated by the moonlight outside, Bard looks positively majestic and dominating, his shoulder-length hair free from the ponytail, falling ruffled into his face as he inhales and forcefully spits down to where his fingers are slowly pushing further into the ass presented to him. 

“That’s good, Darlin’,” he praises and Thranduil keens, eyes full of hearts, “Push back a bit, makin’ it easy for me, aren’t you? Go on, sweetheart.” At your gasp – you’re not unaffected by the praise, not at all and if you weren’t coming down from a sensational orgasm that had your clit in flames.. – Bard looks up and winks at you. “Go on. Wonderful, you’re just the best. Look at you, beautiful.” He’s obviously talking to Thranduil but you follow his command despite it; the aura around Bard makes it impossible to do anything less than obey. 

Lying there under these two men, feeling their weight, hearing their moans and the rasps of their deep voices, and being clouded in the smell of sweat, cum, and body odors mixing, is fulfilling fantasies you hadn’t been creative enough to think up.

“Oh – Bard, can you – hah, yes, there –” Thranduil arches into the touch catlike, his back up in the air and the curve of his spine glistening, now that a few drops of sweat are decorating the skin, marked in pink trails of fingernails of a hand that twists slightly and adds another finger. 

Your chest is full of blonde hair, platinum after another inspection, strands perfect to comb your hands through. Thranduil’s lashes flutter beautifully. His lips open up, puffing out airy breaths, pink plush lips coated in spit after he runs his tongue over them. 

Biting down a comment of how he had been right about the ‘shutting up and dicking down’, you act without thinking. The kiss is much slower and sensual than the last, maybe to distract Thranduil from that pain/pleasure that Bard afflicts on him, opening him up four fingers at one time. Soon though, the grind of Thranduil’s hips becomes too much to endure, he already left a wet trail of precum all over you and while you’re still gasping into his mouth, you blindly reach between your bodies. 

“Goddamit,” you grunt, angling your hips slightly, “You’re no help at all.”

“What?” Thranduil groans and everything vibrates, “I’m the one having four fingers up my arse, can’t you just wait a fucking second?” 

“Mhm, no.”

“You’re such a brat,” he leans down, hair fanning over you and trapping you in a bubble where it’s just you, his panting breath and the fire in his eyes; he’s gorgeous. “I’m sorry but –”

“Apology accepted,” you cut him off, smiling sweetly.

A second later you swear you’re being ripped apart; immediately tears spring into your eyes, hiding Thranduil’s satisfied smirk behind a watery curtain as he pushes his cock in further, stretching you past known limits. The only proof that you’re still breathing is the pitchy moan, the whine that follows the stretch of inch after inch.

“Fuuck–” 

It’s going on forever. The rocking of Thranduil’s hips. The slow drill of his cock pushing its way through you, carving a spot into your clenching walls. Surely it’ll come out of your throat. 

You blink fast, regain your vision, and look down.

“Oh my fucking god,” you slap a hand against Thranduil’s shoulder, trying to get a grip on reality, “How are you this big?”

“He’s a mouthful,” Bard pitches in, grinning, and finally reaches a point where he has prepared Thranduil enough. He spits again; once into his hand, which he immediately closes around his cock again, and once between the globes of Thranduil’s ass, watching it trail down. Bard gathers some of Thranduil’s long hair to gently push it over his side. “Are you ready, my love?” he bows down for a soft kiss to the protruding bones of Thranduil’s arched spine.

Ironically, that's what finally gets you and Thranduil on the same page. 

A page that was full of unintelligible curses, punctuated by groans and underlined by hands grabbing for each other. 

Your hand digs itself into Thranduil’s back as he finally bottoms out, buried so deep you can feel him in the back of your throat – or that’s the pressure from that massive cock bullying your insides – and he stills, hipbones digging into you as well as if he hasn’t already marked you up enough with his girth.

Bard reaches forward, thus pushing in faster than Thranduil expects it and your fingers intertwine over the blonde's back. Electricity zips through you, starting from your toes pressing into the sheets, up your shaking thighs to your clenching cunt, and higher up your spine into your head.

Thranduil, fully sandwiched between you, can do nothing except follow the unforgivable rhythm Bard sets. 

The bed creaks as he rocks into you, just when Bard pushes in. The start is messy, lots of “There–” and “Fuck, slower–” until they change it up. 

Thranduil’s breathing is ragged and erratic as he moves against you, his hips pistoning against yours in a steady, firm rhythm. His arms hold you in place, his body covering you completely, lips moving along your neck and shoulder. You, being just on the receiving end, take everything he gives.

“Finally out of complaints, aren’t you?” he angles his hips to thrust harder. “A – ahh – all you needed was a good cock to shut you up.” 

You almost gag on a whine, proving him just right. “No– so-ohh – not true.”

A fleeing look to Bard and you’re silently begging. For what you don’t know. Maybe his support. Maybe to fuck Thranduil hard enough he swallows his words.

“Oh, Thranduil,” Bard starts and you truly think he’ll be on your side,  “If she’s still trying to mouth back you’re doing something – fuck – wrong!”

Thranduil laughs, fucking laughs. Each snap of his hips fills the room with shameless sounds, and as painful as it is to admit, his low baritone causes your pussy to clench tighter, dripping arousal. The fire they started burns higher when he wedges one hand down between your legs, somehow landing on your clit perfectly despite the brutal pace of his and Bard’s thrust. 

“You should’ve come up the first day you heard us,” Thranduil spits out, “Could’ve had this cock making you happy every night. You needed this, right? Someone, to fuck you stupid? Did you lie awake all night and listened to Bard fucking me, fiddling with yourself as if your dumb little fingers could ever come close to this?” His middle finger demonstratingly flicks your clit up.

“Please, oh– please, please,” you sob, the messy circles he’s rubbing with his thumb dumbing you down to a mumbling mess. Pleasure dances in every vein, lights up nerve endings in white-hot fire. 

"Gosh, I think I’m feeling that stick I had been talking about,” Thranduil rasps, pressing his palm against your lower stomach, bringing out another wail, “Oh wait no, that's just me giving you exactly what you needed." 

You’re wringing out his cock, every stroke sends him deeper and deeper, crushing your g-spot, urged on by the slaps of Bard’s balls. He’s taking it slower, staying against Thranduil’s prostate and spreading his hands in the long hair to control when his boyfriend slams into you. 

“C’mon, honey. Be good and come on Thran’s cock, won’t you? He’s so sorry for his bratty behavior but as you can see –” Bard sends his hand down swiftly, shocking you as his palm lands flat on Thranduil’s right cheek with a loud ‘smack’; a scream of pleasure and Bard pats the already reddening skin, “he’s insatiable.” 

That’s what does it for you, in the end. 

Already spiraling toward the edge with Thranduil’s pace and his fingers slipping, rubbing, flicking in all directions, it’s the calmness in Bard that sends you over. The relaxed hold in Thranduil’s hair, how he thrones above you, patiently waiting for his turn because he’s already fucked Thranduil twice tonight – what are another few minutes of watching you slurring their names?

If Thranduil’s cock broke you in half, the orgasm that spikes through you angrily and into every cell splinters whatever’s there to shred. It’s blinding, hot and cold, a wildfire and ice bath. It’s the strongest you’ve cum in a while and your brain shuts down. 

Thranduil groans as you clench around him, but, sensing – or seeing it in your fucked out expression – that you can’t take anymore, he drags his cock out of you. 

Half conscious your head drops to the side as you try to catch a breath that isn’t sweat and hair. Through blurred eyes, you have a front-row seat to the change in Bard. He swiftly lifts his head once, shaking back his hair and exposing the long column of his throat and the muscles that flex in his shoulder, before he’s sprawled atop Thranduil, grabbing the red and heavy cock wet with your cum and fucks him. 

Raw and unapologetic. 

Fingers pull on Thranduil’s hair, forcing his head back into his neck and Thranduil groans, arching his back closer to Bard. It’s a glorious sight, their hips meeting again and again, Bard’s hand wrapped around Thranduil’s cock, pulling and jacking him off in that same rhythm that Thranduil had rubbed you earlier.

Bard’s panting as well now, grinding more than thrusting and watches himself disappear inside Thranduil. “You feel so good, Thran–” he mumbles, “one more time for me, alrigh’ gorgeous? You did perfectly tonight, taking me three times.”

The praise continues to rain, hailing down like the short and precise twitches of Bard’s hips and when Thranduil hits the bed in a low moan of Bard’s name, coating the bedsheets underneath him white, Bard follows shortly after; buried deep inside his boyfriend.

For a while, the room is filled with efforts to catch your breath. Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, glistening on Thranduil and Bard lying close to each other next to you as well. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, “the neighbors are gonna hate us.”

[restinslices]

小天使

Bi-Han x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 2036

Summary: Who would have thought that raising a child would be the hardest thing in a world full of gods, Edenians, sorcerers, war, and whatever else life decided to throw in the mix.

Translations for future reference: 小天使 - Little angel. 爸爸- Baba/dad. 我爱你! - I love you! (I got all these translations from Google, so they could be wrong).

If someone were to ask Bi-Han which was harder, being a Grandmaster or having a young child, he'd say the latter without hesitation. 

It's not that he didn't like being a father. It's just that kids… well… they're special creatures. Special in the sense that things that made sense to them, made no sense to the adults around them. 

Here are just a few moments that made Bi-Han wanna face the wall and never be seen again. 

Bald People 

“Chew with your mouth closed 小天使” Bi-Han used his hand to push your jaw up then wipe juice from your mouth, earning a giggle from you. He had no idea what was funny, but he learned long ago to not ask many questions. Your brain would never make sense to him and vice versa. 

To say it was a nice day would be an understatement. For the first time in days there was no rain in the area, the cold didn't bite at anyone's exposed flesh (something he didn't mind, but your body didn't process the cold the same way his did. At least not yet), the clouds didn't cast the world into darkness, no. Nothing like that. It was clear. Not a cloud in sight. No rumbles of thunder. Just a clear day. Perfect for eating fruit with his little buddy outside. 

Bi-Han made a fatal error though. He allowed himself to get too comfortable. He stopped being on his guard. 

“爸爸!” You shouted. “爸爸 WHY IS THAT GUY BALD?!”. 

Please let that be a hallucination… 

He followed where your finger was pointing, and to his disappointment, he wasn't hallucinating. You were pointing to a Lin Kuei ninja who had taken his mask off to reveal his smooth and bald head. The man- well, not just him. Every ninja looked over at the two of you in shock. 

“Hey!” he pushed your hand down. “What'd I say about pointing?” he scolded. It was all he could think to say. What was he supposed to do in this situation? He had never been advised on what to do if his child suddenly became interested in bald people. 

“BUT HE IS BALD! WHY IS HE BALD?!”. Bi-Han said a silent prayer to the Elder Gods to give him the strength to not strangle you. 

“Stop yelling! Eat your fruit!”

“But why is he bald?” at least you weren't screaming anymore. Small wins. “I'm not bald. You're not bald. I've never seen a bald person in real life. What's the word for 'bald’ in Chinese? I can't remember-”

His hand covered your mouth. He sighed. If only he could stay like this forever. 

As the Grandmaster, he wasn't afraid of confrontation. That'd be ridiculous. Didn't mean he wanted you poking at some random bald guy though. 

Your small hands pulled his down from your mouth. He hated you were so cute, with your wide eyes and chubby cheeks. It made it a lot harder to be stern with you. 

Bi-Han having trouble with being stern? You definitely had changed him. 

“But he's bald” the last word came out your mouth in amazement. Had you really never seen a bald person before? He never felt the need to show you one. Why would he? “Come on, child of mine! Let's go watch bald people today!”. Kuai Liang had kids of his own, but he hadn't brought up kids could become fascinated with bald people. Was this normal? 

Parenting was so confusing. 

“爸爸!”

“Eat your fruit” he practically begged. 

“I'm gonna go ask him why he's bald!” You exclaimed. “Excuse me! Kind stranger! Hey-” with a sigh, Bi-Han threw you over his shoulder, grabbed the bowl of fruit, and walked towards the house. 

“Hey!” Your small hands hit his back and your legs kicked up in the air. “Hey I was talking to him! Hey! Hey! Kind stranger! Why are you bald?!”. 

You continued your shouts of curiosity, all while Bi-Han continued carrying you over his shoulder. And once you both got back inside, you still hadn't understood what you did wrong. 

“It was just a question” you defended as you bit at your nails and swung your legs from your seat. “Can I have ice cream?”. 

Bi-Han sighed. 

War was easier than this. 

Duckies

As soft as you had made him, he still pushed you when it came to training. 

And as silly as you were, you were still a fantastic fighter. 

It filled him with pride to watch you use your small size to your advantage. You'd dodge under the other ninjas legs, kick them in places like their shins, you'd even crawl up their bodies and startle them. 

His perfect little warrior. 

But before being a warrior, you were still a child. So it was to his disappointment, but not surprise, when you gasped and pointed behind him. Something had gotten your attention. 

“Look! Look!” You exclaimed as you ran past him. 

What he expected to see was something like a rainbow. Something that made sense to get excited over. What he didn't expect to see were two white ducks waddling next to each other. 

“They're ducks” 

“They're ducks!” You repeated after him. “They're so cute!” You ran at him and tugged on his arm. “Can I have them?! Please please please?! Can I have them both?!”. 

Would it be terrible to make a joke about cooking them?

More than likely. 

“No” he said sternly and grabbed your arm. “Go back to-”

“I wanna go draw them” you whined. You tried to pull away from him, even going so far as to try and pry his hand away, but you were a small child. 

By the Elder Gods… maybe if he screamed everytime he woke up, he'd have more patience. 

Bi-Han tried his hardest to say “go back to your training” as sternly as he could, in hopes it'd spark obedience in you. You weren't an obedient warrior though. You were a child. 

You did what he hated most. You fell to the floor, becoming dead weight in his hand. You mumbled whines he couldn't, and didn't care to hear. Everytime he tried to pick you up, you fought to stay back down. It didn't matter that he threatened to take away everything you loved. Even using the typical lines about Santa didn't work. You didn't care about Santa, or your toys, or getting an earlier bedtime, or no longer having candy, or anything else he could think of. You were in love with these stupid fucking birds now and all you wanted to do was draw them. 

“Fine!” he shouted. “Go draw your ducks!”. 

Of course, your sour mood was gone now. You ran away, leaving him behind to dismiss his men and debate on asking one of his brothers to babysit. 

Bi-Han hoped that this phase would only last a few days. 

But hope never really did anything. 

The phase lasted months. There were drawings of ducks everywhere. There were framed pictures, pictures on the fridge, pictures in between couch cushions, he even found some in the bathroom. Why the hell were you drawing in the bathroom? 

The sound of crayons scribbling on paper and you humming filled his ears when he entered your room. Ducks again he was sure. Duck this, duck that, duck every fucking thing. 

“Come on. We're visiting your uncles today”

“One more minute”. 

He sighed. He kept giving you “one more minute”. You were supposed to have left ten minutes ago. There wasn't a set time you both were supposed to be at Kuai Liangs home. He just wanted to be there by 2:30pm, but it was 2:25pm and you still hadn't left. 

“No more minutes” he didn't know why he kept trying to be stern with you. “We're going. Now.” 

He walked closer to you then, prepared to throw you over his shoulder and carry you off if he had to. Thankfully, you slammed your crayon down and showed off your drawing with a wide smile. 

“I drew us as ducks!”. 

It was true. Though the ducks weren't entirely anatomically correct, Bi-Han could still see the two ducks holding hands and smiling. You even added hair on both of you, and on the bottom in pink sat the words “我爱你!”. 

He pointed at the words and asked “who's saying that?”. 

“Both of us” you answered. “Cause I love you and you love me!”. Very true. Even if you made his head pound sometimes, he loved you more than life itself. “It's a gift for you”. 

Was it stupid to feel happy as he held the paper in his hands? It was just ducks after all. 

But in the same breath, you took two things you loved and put them together. Perhaps it was insecurity, but sometimes he worried that you weren't aware of how much he loved you. He was glad to know that although he pushed you, it didn't change how you felt for him. 

“Do you like it?”. 

Did he like it?

He left a kiss on top of your head and nodded. 

Maybe ducks weren't so bad. 

Party Time!

When Bi-Han felt himself being shook awake, he knew it could only be one person doing it. So, being the reasonable and mature adult he was, he decided to ignore the person. 

“爸爸. 爸爸. 爸爸” You whispered while shaking him. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to still be asleep. “Dad. Dad. Daddy. Dada. 爸爸”. He groaned and tried to shake you off while still pretending to be asleep. Unfortunately for him, you inherited his stubbornness. 

He felt your breath on his ear as you whispered “are you awake? Wake up”. 

Fuck. You weren't gonna stop. Maybe you'd tire eventually, but it wouldn't be anytime soon. 

He sighed, opened his eyes, then looked at you. “Why are you awake?” he grumbled, noticing the lack of light coming through his curtains. 

“I can't sleep” you complained. “I had a bad dream”. Well now he felt a little bad for ignoring you. 

“Come lay next to me-”

“I don't wanna go back to sleep” you whined. You fully collapsed on top of him, which he wished you didn't do because your head was now on his throat. “I wanna stay up. Let's have a party!”. 

“No” he answered simply. He pushed you off, much to your dismay. “I'll read you a story-”

“Nooooooooo” you whined from next to him. “Party time! Let's have a party! Dad and kid party!”. He rolled his eyes at your jazz hands. Parents needed a daily salary. 

“We're not having a party,” he said. He wasn't even sure what kind of party you were even talking about. Either way, it was far too late. “I will read you a bedtime story. You'll like the story. Then you'll go to sleep”. 

More whines. “Then the monster will come back”. 

That made him raise a brow. “The monster?” he questioned. 

Your frown deepened. “The monster” you repeated. “In my dream, there was a monster. You left me behind”. 

Oh his heart was so soft when it came to you. He could've told you to suck it up and that it was just a dream. Instead, his eyes softened and he rubbed your cheek. Your hand gripped his in response. 

“I wouldn't leave you behind”

“You wouldn't?”. 

You sweet child… 

“Never” he said firmly. That answer seemed to satisfy you. You burrowed yourself into his side and let out a sigh of relief. Poor thing. He wished he could prevent you from having bad dreams ever again. 

He stayed awake beside you, patiently waiting for you to fall back asleep. 

You frustrated Bi-Han. That much was true. You gave him headache after headache and confused him beyond belief. 

It didn't matter in the long run. It didn't matter how many times you said something inappropriate in public, or how many obsessive phases you went through. 

It wouldn't matter how many tantrums you had, or how many times you woke him up while the moon was still high in the sky. 

None of that would matter. 

He would always stand beside you. 

He would always love and adore you. 

His warrior. 

His little duck. 

His 小天使.

I haven’t written x reader fanfic in a hot minute, so I’m still a little rusty. I hope y’all enjoyed either way! While proof reading I realized that Kuai Liang would more than likely live with Bi-Han and wouldn’t have his own home to visit. But uuuhhhh it’s already to written 😀. So let’s all just ignore that little error.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Babysitter —Ruben Dias.

summary: Being Carlota's shared babysitter with Ruben has never been so difficult.

warnings: none. enemies to lovers, curses, cute, soft, some jealousy, etc.

words count: +2.5k

#SEXYNOTE: HI!!! I really apologize for disappearing again, i already finished my first semester and i'm back for you 💌 Thank you for all the support while i was gone, love you 🩷

Soirée music played in the place as you talked animatedly with your date, drinking an expensive red wine cellar that you had saved for a special reason and laughing when George talked to you about his life.

Today you had decided to bring your date home and prepare something to eat, quietly and thoughtfully, to get to know your co-worker better, who had insisted on taking you out to dinner but when you had another plan in mind, he modestly agreed.

A few months ago he had come to your job as a finance manager at the company you worked for, these last few weeks you had been getting to know each other better and you were happy with your new relationship. You were really hoping that you could make something happen, because George was a gentleman and you liked him a lot.

So after welcoming him into your home, you were now sitting on the couch, after dinner, drinking and chatting about yourselves, getting to know each other a little better. There was no hint of seductive closeness on his part but you tried to laugh at all his jokes and look delighted with his stories so he would notice you had attention. The talk was coming along great, exchanging laughs and melodious glances. Maybe he hadn't approached you but you could tell he was looking at you, he was being nice and you really enjoyed the time with him.

Until the doorbell rang and you were a little surprised, almost scared. It was quite unusual for someone to come at this hour and even less so if they had not warned you before. You politely excused yourself, confused as to who it was and walked to your door.

Oh no. It couldn't be.

You quickly opened the door when a baby's cries startled your ears and you saw the man standing in front of you, holding the desperately crying child.

"What are you doing here, Ruben?" you asked closing the door behind you, your hands went to the baby to take when the young man handed her to you defeated.

"She won't stop crying, I've done everything but she won't listen to me" you say quickly and you cradle the child trying to calm her down.

"Shhh" you say stroking her back while looking for an explanation from the young man. "You're supposed to take care of her today, it's my day off!" you whisper as you continue to stroke the baby's back and cuddle.

Carlota, the little one only a few months old, cries desperately on your shoulder as you cradle her trying to soothe her but it seems something else was bothering her.

Her watery eyes looked at you as her crying continued to impact your ears, you hated to see her cry and you probably looked like you were going to cry too. It wasn't the right time but you couldn't help but feel sad for her.

"I know but I can't calm her down, I tried for quite a while" he says worriedly. "And I'm not going to bother her parents on their last day of vacation" he replies and you want to punch him.

Damn it. Just now? Ugh!

Carlota is the daughter of Ines, your best friend and the daughter of Bernardo, the best friend of who is standing in front of you. Ruben Dias. A self-centered jerk you can't stand but the two of them are Carlota's godparents and were in charge of being her babysitters for these days, while your best friends and father of this little girl were on a mini "vacation".

"I told you everything you had to do, it was only one day, Ruben!" you say angrily again. Your hand rubs Carlota's back, seeking some comfort for the little girl.

"I did it, Y/n!" he shouts exhaustedly and you shush him.

Your neighbors have probably already heard his screams arguing and clearly the little girl's screams, so you reopen the door to your house and walk in with Carlota in your arms. You need to calm her down or it will be worse in a while.

Damn. For a moment you forget that inside your home was your date and you sigh, cursing slowly when you see him in the living room. George stands up from his place on the couch and looks at you confused as you walk towards him with a little girl in your arms, you think as you try to find the right words to explain the event. Ruben walks in behind you and you can hear him hold back his laughter, mocking you and even though you're not seeing him but you're sure there's a smirk on his face.

"Oh, I get it" you hear Ruben whisper as he sets Carlota's purse on the living room table.

«Don't say anything, please» you plead in your head as you give an apologetic smile to your date, who is still looking at you confused and even a little scared with the whole situation.

"I'm so sorry, George" you apologize to him. "It's an unforeseen emergency..."

"You'd rather have a date than take care your daughter" Ruben's words make you go speechless.

Quickly your eyes dart to him and you can see his gaze enjoying this moment, your teeth squeak as you clench them smiling at him to shut him up.

"No!" you shout quickly but you startle Carlota, who cries loudly again and you have to gently rock her.

"This is a misunderstanding" you tell him quickly.

George opens his mouth to say something and you can see how his face is disfigured, he is somewhat disappointed and surprised, you can even see how he is trying to take things in. You don't judge him, you would be too if your date looks like with a baby out of nowhere. But it's not what he thought.

"It's not what it looks like, she's my..." you try to say but Carlota's desperate scream accompanied by a cry comes again.

You try to calm her down as the little girl hides between your neck and shoulders, curling up. This is chaos, Ruben seems to be enjoying it from his spot as he smirks and you are desperate to calm Carlota down and attend to your date.

"I-I..." you hear him try to say.

"Uh man, she didn't tell you she has a daughter, definitely a red flag" Ruben sneers again.

You're about to explode, Ruben is being a complete idiot for no reason. He needs to shut his mouth immediately before you start crying too.

"It's not my daughter!" you say but to no avail, the baby's screams make anything but understandable and if Ruben keeps talking you're going to kill him right here.

You are beginning to despair. Carlota is still crying and you're starting to suffer for her, your date is about to leave and will probably never call you again and you can see Ruben enjoying the situation as if he planned it. Idiot.

Your date grabs his coat from the seat and starts walking towards the exit without hearing you shouting her name, no way. You hand Carlota to Ruben with a murderous look and run to stop him.

"George, wait!" you yell. "I can explain..." The boy's frightened look looks at you one last time and you see him disappear as the elevator doors begin to close.

Great. Just when you were about to go for more, this happened. Now you were going to have to explain the whole situation to him (if he still wanted to go out with you) but you were sure Ruben had scared him off with this whole misunderstanding.

Damn it, Ruben.

You walk like a murderer into the house, you can see how Ruben cradles Carlota, she is still crying but when she sees you she stretches her arms towards you. You hold her as you walk away towards the kitchen, looking for some peace inside because you are about to murder someone. You open your refrigerator and can see the cold gel pacifier that Ines once left for Carlota. You take it and give it to the little girl, who when she tastes it for a few seconds, her crying starts to slow down.

She was upset because her teeth are starting to grow and sometimes it hurts, Ines had said that the cold gel pacifier helped her and surely Ruben had forgotten it.

Peace and harmony reigns again when you no longer hear crying, Carlota even hugs you as you lead the way back to the living room. You stand in front of Ruben and look at him, trying to find an explanation.

He has a flat smile and a laughing expression as if feeling guilty.

"Oh, I forgot" he mumbles simply and grimaces.

"Are you fucking kidding?" you ask suddenly. "I told you, Ruben. Several times!" you say and your blood boils.

He doesn't answer anything, just takes the girl out of your arms and starts walking towards his things. You call out to him, trying to stop him but he keeps walking away from you.

You want explanations. There is no way he has forgotten that her teeth are growing and that he has her medicine and pacifier cold, even though you told him before you left. You had seen to it that Ruben had everything on hand so that Carlota wouldn't miss anything and you wouldn't be bothered.

"You come and interrupt my date just because Carlota was upset with her teeth, you could have called me" you ask confused. "I left you everything, the food, the bottle, even her gel pacifier for her teeth in your refrigerator with her medicine, I don't understand, I gave you every explanation" you keep saying angry but he ignores you.

He starts to put things away, looking like now he is the one who is in a hurry to leave. You won't let him go so easily. Not without hearing him out first.

"Did you really have to come, Ruben?" you ask would be. You cross your hands on your chest and watch him waiting for his answer, as if you have all the time in the world. "Did you really have to interrupt me?" you insist.

"Is Carlotta an interruption for you?" he questions ignoring your question. Great, he's turning the tables.

His brown eyes intensify as his question makes you frown. His gaze stays glued to yours and you feel a funny feeling in your stomach.

"Of course not!" you squeak in denial. "But I told you I couldn't take care of her today, to call me in case of any emergency" you spit through your teeth, you are angry and very much so.

"Look, Carlota, your aunt would rather put someone in her bed than take care of you" he says lifting the girl in front of his face, who watches him curiously

Carlota lets out a laugh that makes you sigh with love. Even without knowing what he's saying she seems happier than ever now. She is so beautiful.

But you're angry and you won't let him get away with it, even if he's funny.

"I'm seriously, Ruben" you murmur harshly.

"What if Carlota really needed something?" he asks in response. "Would you have let something happen to her just to get a man?" sighs suspiciously.

Oh. There is the problem.

Ruben just wanted to screw up your date. Ideas start to come to your head when you think the most. Had he tried to scare George? Saying Carlota was your daughter, acting like an idiot in front of him. Was he jealous? of you? of your date? He clearly wanted to interrupt you, it wasn't an emergency.

"Are you jealous that i had a date, Ruben?" you ask with an amused grimace. "Why did you say that to George?"you keep insisting.

His gaze weakens and he raises his eyebrows quickly shaking his head. Of course he is. A laugh hides in your throat when you think about it again. There is no way. He just wants to ruin you.

"Ruben..." you say again. "You could have called me" you complain as you throw yourself on the couch.

"I just got scared, she wouldn't stop crying and i didn't know what to do" he says after a while.

"You still should have called me"

"Then Carlota and I will leave if we bother so much" he keeps saying as you roll your eyes at his words.

"Give her to me" you ask stretching your arms out to take her, since they're here at least you're going to enjoy your beautiful niece.

Ruben approaches you slowly, sitting down next to you and reaches for Carlota. As you take her in your arms, your fingers touch Ruben's hands and you feel a shiver down your spine. His eyes meet yours for a few seconds but you break the contact when you quickly move away, standing up, holding the girl in your arms until you lay her on your chest and caress her back as she babbles.

The child's crystallized eyes begin to close as she sits quietly on your chest and you smile helping her to sleep with your caresses and your little melody that you begin to hum. You can't help but be moved by the image, she looks so angelic, asleep in your arms as you gently cradle her.

Behind you you feel an exhausted sigh and you slowly turn around watching Ruben begin to fall asleep on your couch. You hide a smile as you see him there, his body is relaxed and he really does look tired, just as tired as Carlota. Now he looks really calm, so much so that you don't know whether to leave him there. You move a little closer and move his shoulder slowly, he opens his eyes again somewhat startled and looks at you confused.

"Let's go to bed" you whisper carefully so as not to wake the little girl. Ruben smiles somewhat sleepily and you roll your eyes in denial.

You start walking towards your room, taking all the care in the world not to disturb Carlota and when you get to your room, you settle her in her crib (which Ines also left one day) and cover her with her teddy bear blanket. The little girl rests peacefully while you caress her chubby cheeks with tenderness.

You hear Ruben enter the room and you tell him to lie down on the bed, while you take off your shoes. He does the same and settles into your spacious bed.

"You really are desperate to have a man in your bed" he whispers teasingly as you lie down in front of him.

"Fuck you" You roll your eyes again with a giggle. He just keeps saying stupid things but you still sigh rarely.

"I only let you sleep in my bed because you'll be the one to wake up if Carlota cries in the middle of the night" you tease amused.

You don't mind sharing the bed with him today and you know he could sleep perfectly well on your couch but from there he won't hear Carlota's cries from here and tonight you'll make him suffer.

"Good point" he mumbles settling into place to find a comfortable position.

"Goodnight, idiot" you whisper closing your eyes to fall asleep.

"Goodnight, princess" he replies after a few seconds and your body vibrates as you feel his words.

The heat in your cheeks starts to burn and you have to open your eyes, so you say nothing, completely ignoring his greeting, pretending to be asleep. Why is your heart racing in such a hurry? He's just teasing you. Damn it.

After a while of struggling with your thoughts, you open your eyes when you feel a slight male snore and see Ruben resting comfortably in front of you. You carefully stretch out your arm, grabbing the blanket and cover him a bit as you sigh deeply.

Your pulse quickens for some reason as you watch him in detail. You shake your head quickly and want to stop looking at him... but you can't.

[mrsshabana]

“𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮”

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟖: 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary You are one of Douma's most loyal followers, and he decides that some affection from you is exactly what Gyutaro needs. But Gyutaro is worried because he has no experience in this department, so Douma steps in to guide him. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x Douma x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, creampie, manipulation. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.5k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist

“Oh Gyutaro, you are going to love this,” Douma chimes excitedly as he leads upper moon six through the elaborately decorated halls. 

Gyutaro curiously follows Douma, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“But I did! This is a special occasion!” he squeals, “It’s not every day that we get a new upper moon!”

With Douma’s guidance, Gyutaro and Daki were able to quickly rise through the ranks. But of course, only Gyutaro was the true upper moon six. While he worked hard to become stronger, Daki was too busy terrorizing weak humans. And when a real challenge came along, she went crying to Gyutaro for help. 

Gyutaro takes his new rank very seriously, so he doesn’t want to waste time with meaningless gifts and celebrations. But he respects Douma, so he puts up with his shenanigans. 

When the upper moons arrive at a door at the end of the hall, Douma puts his hand on the handle and smirks deviously before twisting the knob and pulling the door open.

Gyutaro’s eyes widen at the sight before him. A beautiful young woman wearing elegant robes with seemingly nothing beneath them. 

“A human?” he murmurs, “But why?”

The smirk on Douma’s face widens, “But for pleasure of course.”

Gyutaro shakes his head and holds his hands up defensively, “N-no, I don’t need things like that. I-”

“Shhhh,” Douma shushes him before he can finish his sentence, “I know what your weakness is, Gyutaro. You’re lonely,” his gaze softens as he looks into Gyutaro’s eyes, “Painfully, painfully lonely. And I’ve given you the solution right here.”

Gyutaro clenches his teeth and shouts, “I’m not lonely! I have my sister! She’s all I need!”

“Oh really? Are you sure?” He leans in closer to Gyutaro and whispers, “I think we both know that there are needs that siblings cannot fulfill.”

Gyutaro frowns and looks down at the ground, letting Douma’s words sink in. He hates to admit it, but it’s true. The connection he shares with his sister is immeasurable, but there are times when he wishes he had more. Wishes he could be loved in ways that he thought weren’t meant for men like him. He was always too ugly, too cruel, too repulsive. Even before turning into a demon, he never would have imagined having something akin to romance in his life. 

“Fine,” his voice cracks as he gives in, “But… I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t worry, Gyutaro,” Douma grins and puts a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

You curiously watch as the two demons approach you. Scared but also excited for what is to come next.

Ever since you accidentally walked in on Douma devouring a human corpse, he’s been trying to figure out what to do with you. Lucky for him, you are a devout member of the Eternal Paradise Cult. So even something as shocking as seeing your leader eating human flesh couldn’t sway you from your faith. Your loyalty was to Douma and the cult, first and foremost. 

At first Douma was going to dispose of you himself, but you were too beautiful to just kill like that. He had to come up with some way he could use you. And what better use for a cute human woman than to give some much needed affection to the demon that needs it most? And not just any demon, a demon that he takes great pride in teaching and guiding. 

He knew you would be perfect for Gyutaro. Hoping that having a beautiful woman by his side could boost his confidence. So much so that perhaps he wouldn’t let his insecurities hinder him in combat anymore. That was the hope at least.

Douma had already made you aware of what was supposed to take place tonight. He told you that you would be introduced to a dear friend of his, and that it would be your duty from now on to serve him.

Keeping his words in mind, you smile and bow politely as the demons approach you. 

Both men take a seat in front of you, surrounded by fine silks and embroidered pillows. 

“This is Y/N,” Douma says with a smile. “Pretty isn’t she?”

Gyutaro nods shyly, “Y-yeah… she is.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gyutaro,” your soft voice is like a melody to him. He almost chokes hearing such kind words directed towards him.

“See? She’s incredibly obedient!” Upper moon two says with glee, “Why don’t you try touching her?”

Gyutaro’s eyes go wide and a blush creeps onto his cheeks, “Touch her?” He gulps and looks at your sitting form. With a shaky hand he gently slides his hand under your robe and touches your thigh, “She’s so soft…”

“Try touching her here,” Douma suggests as he takes Gyutaro’s other hands and guides him to your chest. Softly cupping Gyutaro’s hand over your breast, “See? She likes it.” 

A soft whimper escapes your lips and your face heats up as Gyutaro touches you. 

“C-can you show me what else she likes?” Gyutaro says shyly, looking at Douma for guidance. 

Douma’s lips curl into a deceitful grin, “Oh but of course Gyutaro! It is my job to guide you after all.” He wastes no time slipping his clawed finger under your robe and slipping it off of your body. Leaving yourself bare, the lustful gaze of the upper moons fixated on your body. 

Gyutaro’s eyes are filled with nervousness and excitement, while Douma’s eyes are much more calm and calculating, though he looks just as eager. 

The rainbow eyed demon gently pushes you down to lay on your back and carefully parts your legs. Exposing your most sensitive area to their hungry eyes. Gyutaro stares in awe, his cock already rock hard and jutting out under his baggy pants.

“Right here,” Douma glides his finger down your slit, “she likes to be touched here.” He uses his fingers to part your slick lips, “Try touching her with your mouth.” 

“My mouth?” Gyutaro says in confusion.

“Yes! Go ahead and taste her, I assure you she’ll taste delicious.”

Gyutaro doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s so eager to play with his new toy that he acts without thinking. Moving to lay on his stomach, and position his head between your legs. He gets right into it and begins to sloppily lap at your pussy. 

“ Ah! ” you gasp at the suddenness of his actions. Your instincts tell you to close your legs but you fight off the urge, knowing that you must obey the orders from Douma no matter what.

But luckily for you he intervenes, “Slow down Gyutaro,” he chuckles, “try softly licking her here.” He gently tilts Gyutaro’s head upwards until his tongue hits your clit.

Gyutaro holds onto your thighs as he slowly licks your clit and rubs circles into it with his tongue. Looking up for your approval, he’s pleased to hear your soft moans and to feel your body relax under him. 

While Gyutaro is getting acquainted with your pussy, Douma figures he might as well have some fun too. Moving to lay beside you, he takes off his shirt and leans towards you. 

“Don’t worry Y/N,” he coos, “I’m going to teach Gyutaro how to take care of you.” 

“Thank you, Lord Douma,” you moan.

Douma hums to show he’s pleased with your obedience, then he moves closer to your chest and begins sucking on your pert nipples. Kissing and circling his tongue around one, while his hand plays with the other - gently pinching and tugging.

Gyutaro gains more confidence as he hears the sweet sounds you’re making for him, “She’s so wet,” he says between kisses and licks. 

Douma momentarily takes his attention away from your breasts to take a look at your wet cunt. “Wow Gyutaro! Look how wet you made her,” he cheers, “You’re learning so quickly!” 

“Does this mean…” he trails off, looking away - too embarrassed to say it out loud. 

“That she wants you to fuck her?” Douma verbalizes exactly what he had been thinking, “That’s exactly right!” 

Gyutaro moves his face away from your core and wipes his mouth with his hand, “B-but… I’ve never done anything like that before. What if I mess up? Or…” he trails off again but takes a deep breath to recompose himself, “Or break her?”

“There’s no reason to worry, Gyutaro, I am here with you,” Douma coos, “And I will guide you the entire time.” 

Gyutaro is a panting mess, staring at you with a lustful gaze as you can see his cock throbbing under his pants. While Douma gives you a look of reassurance, one that gives you a sense of tranquility. 

“Go on and get on top of her,” Douma instructs, holding Gyutaro by the shoulder and guiding him to position himself on top of you. Which he promptly does, crawling on top of you and caging you beneath him. He’s seen humans having sex in the district before, so he thinks he knows what to do next. 

He pulls down his pants and grabs the base of his cock, gliding his tip along your slick folds. “C-can I put it in, Y/N?”

You’re so surprised that he even bothered to ask that it takes you a moment to respond, “Of course you can.” You smile sweetly at him, cupping his cheek with your hand. 

Your gentle touch makes his head feel fuzzy and he’s unable to think about anything other than being inside of you. So he pushes his hips forward and tries to slide into you, but he can’t seem to find your entrance. Aimlessly pushing into you, resulting in whines of discomfort to leave your lips. 

“Be careful with her, she’s fragile. Let me show you.” Douma grabs Gyutaro by the hips and tilts his body until he is properly angled towards your entrance. Then he slowly pushes Gyutaro’s hips forward - his aching length finally sliding into your tight entrance. 

Gyutaro’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head as he lets out a moan of satisfaction, “ F-fuuuck! She-she feels so warm.” 

“The intimate embrace of a woman is truly unmatched, I knew you’d like her,” Douma grins, seemingly pleased to see Gyutaro enjoying his gift. “Start off slow, you don’t want to hurt her.” He keeps a hand on Gyutaro’s hip, guiding his thrusts to a slow pace. You can feel that Gyutaro is aching to just fuck you as hard as he can, but Douma is keeping him in line. Guiding his movements to ensure not only your comfort, but a better result in the end. 

“Pay attention to her, Gyutaro. Listen to her moans and look closely at her body, you can speed up once she’s ready.”

Gyutaro nods and continues at the steady pace Douma had set for him. Groans of pleasure escaping him as he plunges his cock into your velvety walls.

Watching you get fucked by his apprentice makes his cock twitch. He thought he would be able to ignore it, but the temptation is too much to bear. There’s no harm in indulging right? He might as well use you while he can. So, Douma pulls down the front of his pants and languidly strokes his length as the sound of your moans fills his ears. 

You’re so busy being pounded by Gyutaro that you don’t notice it at first. But when Douma’s cock suddenly appears hovering over your face, there’s no missing it. The size is similar to Gyutaro, long and girthy with large veins decorating the shaft. Though Douma’s looks more human than Gyutaro’s. 

“Hey!” Gyutaro growls, “She’s my present.”

“Come on Gyutaro, I’m just trying to show you how it’s done,” he lies through his teeth, “Don't you want to know how to receive oral sex? I’m doing this for you after all.”

Gyutaro scowls and looks up at him, momentarily putting his thrusts to a halt, “Fine.”

Douma smiles innocently before looking down at you - placing his cock against your lips, “Open wide, dear.” 

With a nod, you open your mouth wide and tilt your head back. Douma slides his thick length down your throat as Gyutaro goes back to abusing your pussy. 

“ Ahh that’s it, good girl,” Upper moon two moans as you take him into your mouth. He begins slowly thrusting into you, you now having to take double the abuse. 

Gyutaro picks up the pace as jealousy begins to rise within him. He wishes that was his cock inside of your mouth right now. But he’d never admit that watching you take a dick down your throat actually turns him on. He grabs your hips tightly, and thrusts into you more aggressively. The sound of skin slapping and the groans of pleasure from the two upper moons fill the room. 

Tears roll down your cheeks as you’re filled with an overwhelming pleasure. Gyutaro is ramming into your sweet spot while Douma is ramming into the back of your throat, only giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before he forces you to take him again. 

“You’ll be a good little pet for Gyutaro won’t you?” Douma teases.

“Mm mm hm,” you hum. The vibrations from your throat bring another wave of pleasure through Douma.

“ Ahh , you’ll pleasure him as good as you are to me right now, won’t you?”

“Mm hm!” you nod eagerly. At this point your legs are trembling and you fervently suck on him. One of your hands is holding onto Douma’s thigh, while the other is wrapped around Gyutaro’s wrist. Both men picking up their pace. But you are the first one to reach your peak.

Your gummy walls tighten around Gyutaro as you gush all over his pelvis. Moaning and gasping around Douma’s throbbing cock, that threatens to spill at any moment. 

The sensations of your orgasm quite literally milk Gyutaro dry. He’s quick to follow you, moaning and tilting his head back as he fills you full of hot sticky cum. His black nails digging into your flesh as he shoots rope after rope into you.

And finally, Douma cums down your throat. Moaning and grinning as he’s filled with a sense of satisfaction. His dick twitches as he empties his load into you, staying so deep down your throat that you have no other choice but to swallow. 

“Great job to both of you,” Douma says with an affirming smile as he slides his length out of your mouth. 

You’re barely able to process anything that he’s saying. All you can do is pant and tremble beneath the two demons. Drool rolling down your chin, and cum seeping out of your cunt. 

Gyutaro finally slides out of you and gently places you back down on the pillows. He tenderly runs his thumb along your hip.

“Still think you don’t need her?” Douma asks with a cocky grin.

“Fine… I guess I could find some use for her,” Gyutaro blushes, “Thanks for the present.”

[therhythmafterthesummer]

The King of the Forest (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: WerewolfKing!Chan x HumanPrincess!Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Mild Angst | Royalty | Mediaeval Setting Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: As a Princess, all you’d ever been deemed good for was doing what you were told and keeping to your role, something that frustrated you beyond belief. It wasn’t until you met that young wolf in the forest that you finally realised there was more out there for you. [You can find a follow-up story here]. Warnings: reader is implied to be chubby/curvy (of course, when is it not atp) · descriptive attributes of the reader are used. such as: exact age & having long hair · themes of misogyny · themes of motherhood/pregnancy · possessiveness · pet names · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: shout out to 🐧 anon for suggesting the idea of WerewolfKing!Chan x Princess!Reader in these two asks. at this point i’m convinced i’ll end up going through every possible iteration of werewolf!chan i can lol. it probably won’t go in the direction it was expected, but i hope some of you get to enjoy it regardless~ special thanks to @cursed-mars-bars & @straylightdream for beta-reading this.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: mentions and depictions of loss of ‘virginity’ · praising (duh) · oral (F.Rec) · unprotected penetration [piv] · probably body worship · marking · breeding · public sex? · cum eating (probably not in the way you expect)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

This was wrong. It was so, so wrong. At least, to the standards of some. 

As a princess, you’d been taught that all you’d ever be good for was marrying you off to a powerful family, to be used as an offering for political convenience and alliances, with no regard for your own wants and needs. That was, of course, as long as you maintained your virtue. Or what your mother referred to as ‘virtue’.

‘No man wants to own an already used glove’, you heard the Crown Prince say once, which sounded just so ridiculous to you. Not only because women were most certainly not pieces of clothing, but also because your dearest older brother had probably laid with dozens of men and women without being married himself.

Hypocrites, all of them. 

“Your–Your Majesty…” You gasped. You could feel blood rush to your head under the devious tongue of the man between your legs. Although, you weren’t sure if man was the right word to use to describe him.

He hummed, effectively sending delicious vibrations through your body that made you whine.

“I told you, pup…” He detached himself from your centre enough to speak, temporarily replacing his mouth with his fingers to rub slow circles on that bundle of nerves between yours legs. “When we’re here, just the two of us, I want you to use my name. Hm?” 

Swallowing the saliva that had collected in your mouth, you nodded.

“Say it, Your Highness. Say it with your whole chest. Relish the fact that only you get to do so”.

The movement of his fingers on your clit had your head spinning, but you needed to comply–you wanted to comply–so, after taking a deep breath, you did. “C–Chris”.

A smile formed on his lips, but it wasn’t smug, nor belittling. It was a genuine smile, one of those that always made him look his age, as if he hadn’t experienced any form of cruelty in his life, a smile that made your heart flutter in your chest. “Again”. 

“Chris…” You could barely hold eye contact anymore, it was hard to do so when your brain was trying to send you into fight or flight whenever you looked into his eyes–a feeling that completely clashed with the one building in the pit of your stomach due to Chris’ movements between your legs.

“That’s it, pup. So good for me”, you felt yourself flush, not only at his praise, but also because he returned his mouth to your centre to lightly suck on your clit.

If your father knew you were here, laying on the ground, in the middle of the forest, with the Wolf King himself feasting on your cunt, he’d surely send you to a convent to repent. Not only for ‘losing your virtue’, but also for ‘losing your morals’ by giving yourself to what he believed to be a barbaric beast.

You didn’t care, though. You never did.

Your father didn’t know Chris. He didn’t know anything that wasn’t what he’d been taught by those before him, he’d never even bothered to question it. He didn’t know that, in reality, the man you had wholly–willingly–given yourself to, was heaps more civilised than he would ever be.

“Oh…” You brought a hand to Chris’ head to bury your fingers in his hair, shivering not only at the feeling of his plush lips and his wet tongue on your clit, but also at the silky feeling of his dark strands between your fingers. You needed to hold onto something, something that could keep yourself attached to reality while he quickened the pace of his tongue.

In retrospect, you figured it was only a matter of time before you ended up here with Chris. You’d known him since you were a child. The first time you saw him he was but a young pup, a fluffy canine that had found you sitting on the ground, with your back against a tree, sobbing in the middle of the forest after you’d had an argument with your mother.

You didn’t know what he was back then, you thought he was just a regular, maybe overly friendly and domesticated wolf, but after a couple of times of seeing him in the forest, he finally revealed himself to you. You would’ve honestly never expected for an animal to shift into a boy, much less a boy like Chris.

He was so…regal.

As soon as your eyes met when he was in his human form you could immediately tell he wasn’t just some boy–not only because of the obvious furry situation, but also because of the way he carried himself, because of the way he articulated his thoughts.

After a couple of times meeting as just a boy and a girl in the forest, you got to truly learn who he was. The Prince of the Forest, he’d said. His mother led the biggest clan of lycanthropes in the vast forest, a realm that would be his in due time.

Meeting Chris had changed your view on the forest, on what your people said of this place. You’d been taught it was filled with beasts that ate people, that killed people, that deceived people… But when you met Chris, a simple boy who just so happened to also be a wolf, a boy who kept you company and understood you and respected you as an equal, you realised your father and your mother and everyone around you were all just full of shit.

It was fascinating, really. Learning the hierarchical structures of the forest as an outsider… Especially when Chris clearly trusted you enough to confide in you. Which was why, in a cruel turn of fate, by the time you were sixteen, you could no longer go to the forest to meet him.

Your father had noticed you were frequently missing, and one day, while you walked the familiar paths to your usual meeting spot, you noticed someone following you. Thankfully, it all happened before you met Chris that day, but, regretfully, it also meant that you never got to say goodbye.

You often found yourself thinking about Chris after that. Not all day, but almost every day you did. At least once… When you saw your father’s hunting dogs, when you ate something you liked, and even when you started to bloom into adulthood and your dreams bled into images of greens and the feel of smooth skin and warm lips on your own.

For your twenty-fourth birthday, your father had kindly gifted you a betrothed, probably the complete opposite of anything you could’ve possibly wanted. ‘You’re getting too old, my dear. Your younger sister already has two children of her own. It’s time you finally fulfil your duty, aren’t you happy?’

You were not happy, to say the least. You were furious. You’d managed to avoid any arrangements for years, always got the other party to call off the engagement first, but this time it wasn’t working in your favour, they’d have you marry soon after you turned twenty-five. Which was why you found yourself back in the forest. Trying to escape the sombre future ahead of you.

That was how you found Chris again, that was how Chris found you again. After almost ten years. Sobbing on the forest floor with your back against a tree and your head pressed to your knees.

You honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. There was, of course, a small light of hope in you that wished you would, but you never entertained it, it just hurt way too much if you did. However, what you also hadn’t expected, was the hurt look in his eyes, nor the tremble in his voice when he asked you ‘Why did you never come back?’

So, with a tremble of your own in your voice, you told him the chain of events that led to your disappearance. ‘I just didn’t want them to find you, Your Highness. It would’ve gotten both of us in danger’.

You could still remember how Chris cradled your face in his hands that night, rubbing away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks with his thumbs, just as he muttered a very quiet, and very soft ‘Your Majesty…’ 

The confusion must’ve been clear on your face, because he chuckled, offering a ‘It’s Your Majesty now, Your Highness. I’m King now. A lot has happened since we last met. I can tell you all of it, if you wish to hear it, but with one condition… Right here, between us, I’m just Chris, and you’re just you. Just like before…’

Just like before, he’d said… But before you’d never been that physically close to each other. Before, you’d never kissed like you needed each other to breathe. That wasn’t what you did before, but somehow it felt just so incredibly natural, almost as if you’d spent a lifetime doing so.

You did talk a lot that night in the forest, both of you. Chris told you the events that led to his coronation, about the war amongst clans that took his mother’s life as well as many others. A war that, despite the many costs, he managed to win. Just like you told him stories of your own–much less interesting stories than his, to be honest. 

You, also, lost your ‘virtue’ that very same night. You really hadn’t planned it to be that way, it just sort of happened, and you weren’t sure if it was the moonlight shining on you both, or if it was the longing accumulated during those almost ten years spent apart, but, at that moment, there was nothing more that you wanted than to feel Chris’ body against yours.

Any time his lips attached to your skin sparks of pleasure and love ignited within the deepest areas in your heart. It didn’t matter if it was on your lips, your cheeks, your chest, your tummy, your thighs, or between your legs… His kisses steadily kindled the burning flame in the pit of your stomach, making it burn bright just for him.

The pleasure you’d provided to yourself all these years had been nothing compared to how you felt with Chris. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that it was someone else that was stimulating those sacred areas of your body that no one else had ever touched, if it was the fact that you’d been in love with him practically since the day you met him in the forest over thirteen years ago, or if it was the combination of it all that had stars clouding your vision and your heart growing ten sizes in your chest… 

Regardless, you knew this would be a feeling that no one else would be able to replicate, and if there was ever someone capable of it you just didn’t want them. You wanted no one else but Chris.

It wasn’t until he’d finally soiled your tummy with his release, when he had carefully cleaned it off of you and you laid in his arms that you finally told him of your engagement. Maybe it was a bit cruel, you’d admit. To drop such a bomb on him in one of his most vulnerable moments. His eyes clouded with a dangerous mix of pain and sadness and anger.

So much of it all you did get scared for a second. Until he cradled your face in his hands and very confidently said ‘Marry me’.

You were at a loss, suddenly feeling incredibly inadequate to marry a King, even more the Wolf King of the forest. You didn’t know enough of his people, you didn’t know if they’d accept you, if you’d be fit to cater to their needs. All concerns which you voiced to Chris. He’d reassured you that his people were very different from yours, more accepting, and that you were already more than capable of leading, that he’d never wanted anyone else by his side that wasn’t you.

Over the course of a year, you got close and personal with Chris’ kind. It was honestly almost insane, maddening, how these people that shifted into beasts had shown you more kindness than your own kin. It baffled you, knowing how much pain you had endured over nothing throughout your short life when you saw just how much more socially advanced they were. Although you shouldn’t have been surprised, not when these were the people from which the man you fell madly in love with was born.

So here you were, a few days after your twenty-fifth birthday, gone without leaving a trace, just a month before your marriage to Duke WhateverHisNameWas, laying on the forest floor with only a thick coat to protect your back, and a completely different man than the one you were supposed to marry between your legs–but, admittedly, the only man you’d ever wanted.

“Chris, I’m…” You could hardly speak. Tears were collecting in your eyes, you could feel your lower belly tightening further with Chris’ diligent licks and gentle sucks, with the tight grip of his hand on your soft lower belly, and the delicious drag of his four digits inside your walls hitting your most sensitive spots.

Chris hummed in response, picking up his movements, bringing you closer to that satisfying climax you were so desperate for.

Quiet moans spilled freely from your lips once that blinding pleasure consumed you whole. Your thighs trembled, your grip on his hair tightened, and you simply let the feeling overtake every single one of your senses.

When Chris finally detached himself from your sensitive warmth, your body slumped. You were gasping for air a bit, with your eyes barely open, just enough so you could catch a glimpse of the satisfied smile on your lover’s lips before he came back up to connect his mouth with yours.

You sighed, content, looping your arms around his neck as you savoured the unmistakable taste of your pleasure still lingering on his lips.

“Are you sure about this, pup?” Chris asked when he finally pulled back. 

How considerate of him to worry about this now.

“I am. I don’t want to be anyone else’s. Just yours. Only yours”, you replied confidently, because if there was something you believed in right now was just how irrevocably his you were.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his warmth between your legs, as you felt the tip of his length drag along your folds and spread the remnants of your release all over you both. Chris looked deeply into your eyes, looking at you like you mattered, like you were someone truly important, someone he cared for.

“No one else’s”, he repeated, just as he leaned in to connect his mouth to yours again, as he finally started to push himself into you.

You whimpered at the feeling. Not only because of the undeniable stretch, but also for what it represented. What it had always represented.

Chris hushed you softly, attaching his lips to your cheeks so he could press soothing kisses on your soft skin. He took his time, slowly giving you every centimetre of him he had to offer, until he was fully sheathed within your heat. It didn’t matter if you’d done this before, if you’d taken him more times than you could count, having him fully inside was always difficult for the first few minutes, but you never complained, not when you knew just how incredibly good it would soon feel. 

“Can’t promise you I can remain this gentle, pup”, he mumbled against your cheek, just like he often did. He was capable of gentleness, but he was also capable of being incredibly unforgiving, so he always tried to give you a heads up–not like you didn’t know this already. Pressing one more kiss on your cheek for good measure, he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “I’m using every single drop of willpower to not let the beast consume me… But, fuck, you’re just so warm…”

You cradled his face in your hands, dragging your thumbs over his skin, unable to keep your eyes from shifting focus between his eyes, his nose, his lips, the tiny, barely perceptible freckles that littered his cheeks… “It’s okay, my love. Let it consume you if you must. I’m his, too, after all”.

Ever so slowly, Chris finally moved, starting a rhythm, letting you adjust to the movement of his thickness within your walls. With a hand buried in the hair on the back of his head and the other spread palm flat on his warm chest, right over his racing heart, you wrapped your legs around his waist. The movement shifted the angle of your hips, and moans fell from both of your mouths at just how deep inside of you he could reach like this. 

“That feels… Fuck…” He increased the tempo of his hips, eliciting desperate whines and moans from your mouth once he started to fully ram into you. You could feel your breasts bounce with every harsh thrust of his hips, but even if to an outsider it might’ve seemed like he was pushing your limits, this was one of the tamest versions of himself, one that balanced his human needs along with his animal ones fairly well, one you were more than acclimated to.

“Good…” You finished the sentence he’d started, throwing your head back when his cock hit your sweet spot, effectively sending jolts of pleasure up and down your spine. “Fuck… There. Right there, love”. 

“Mmm… Here?” With precise thrusts, he repeatedly stimulated those utmost sensitive areas inside your walls, making you lose your train of thought and leaving you no other option but to desperately nod to answer his question.

With a hand next to your head and the other holding on tightly to your hip, Chris kept his steady pace. The nacre moon charm that always hung from the chain around his neck continuously dragged against your chest with every thrust of his hips, the quiet tinkling it produced barely audible among the cacophony of blissed-out sounds he was coaxing out of you, and the ones you were coaxing out of him.

Chris buried himself deep inside you time and time again, until you lost track of time, gradually speeding his movements, increasing the strength in which his hips hit your soft skin.

“Close… So, so close…” He mumbled eventually, and you shivered in anticipation. 

He lowered himself on his elbows, getting close enough to start leaving sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your neck. 

“Do it, Chris”, you whispered in his ear, panting a bit, pressing one of your hands on his lower back. “Mark me, my King”.

Chris groaned, and before you knew it, he was sinking his teeth on the junction of your neck and your shoulder. The sting of his bite quickly shifted into a feeling of unadulterated ecstasy, a feeling of euphoria that spread all throughout your body, dragging searing heat in its wake.

A low, animalistic growl resonated from your lover once he reached his own climax and started to pump you full of him, of everything he had to give. You barely even registered it, too consumed by the pleasure still coursing through your body, by the feeling of his canines still attached to your skin and his unfaltering thrusts.

After a minute, with a grunt, he pushed his hips flush against yours, burying himself as deep as he could inside of you, and his movements finally stopped. His tongue soothed the fresh bite he’d left on your skin, and you shuddered a bit.

His mouth was once again on yours, kissing you deeply, just like he had always been meant to do.

When he pulled back from the kiss, Chris looked you in the eyes, softly caressing your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re all mine now, pup. Mine to keep, to love, to breed. Only mine”. 

“Always have been”, you replied simply, regarding him with a small smile on your lips. 

Chris chuckled, and he leaned down to press a brief kiss on your lips. 

He finally pulled himself away from you entirely, bringing his hands to your inner thighs so he could keep you fully spread open for him. With his eyes so focused on your centre, you suddenly felt heat creep on your cheeks–a bit of an absurd reaction, considering he’d seen your modesty innumerable times, although never after stuffing you full of his seed. That was a first.

Chris dived in again, and you trembled as you felt his warm, wet tongue lapping up your sensitive folds, gently cleaning you up.

When he was done, he straightened himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling brightly at you. 

You brought your hands to your soft lower belly, just as a bashful smile settled on your lips. “You really think I could…”

You let your question trail off, and Chris chuckled as he brought his hands to your sides. Slowly, he dragged them down to your hips, where he squeezed the plump swell of them. “When I saw you again after all these years, when I saw these hips of yours, I knew you’d be just perfect to carry my pups, love”.

“We might have to give it a few tries, though”, you extended your hand, and Chris immediately took it and helped you sit down. The coat he’d placed on the ground before he laid you on it was soft against your bare skin, and you couldn’t help but appreciate his thoughtfulness.

“Then we’ll try as many times as necessary”, Chris sat with his back against a tree, and pulled you to sit on his lap.

Resting your arms on his broad shoulders, you leaned in for a kiss, and as soon as your mouths touched, he let out a satisfied hum.

“My father is a goddamn fool for thinking he could marry me off to some guy”, you said as soon as you pulled back, burying your fingers in his hair and gently dragging them over Chris’ scalp, making him chuckle. 

He pushed your now undone hair off of your shoulder, exposing the mark he’d left so he could softly trace it with this thumb. The area was incredibly sensitive, and his tender touch made you shiver. “Doesn’t matter now. The second anyone so much as tries to take you away from me will be the moment they draw their last breath. You’re already my Queen, my love. All mine”. 

You leaned in again, pressing a kiss to his lips. Pulling back just a bit, with your mouths barely a hair’s width apart, your lips brushed against his with every whispered word that came out of your mouth. “Yours, my King”.

Maybe if your father had taken you seriously for one second in his life, you wouldn’t have ended up here, married to the King of the forest. But as Chris held you in his arms, and as he eventually helped you re-dress so he could take you to what would now be your forever home, you figured it was best not to dwell on hypotheticals, not when you finally felt this incredibly cared for and so incredibly full of love.

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General Masterlist

[everythingelseisextra]

Everything Is Fine

Request: No Description: Tired of being stuck in the same life every day, you decide to face your anxiety and go into town. You spend hours going unnoticed, until someone, finally, speaks to you. Warnings: idk there's mentions of alcohol? also the reader has anxiety? Word Count: 1547 Author's Note: This will be a multi-chapter fic slow burn Tommy x horse trainer reader. I am absolutely begging people to read it. I'm putting a lot of myself into this and hopping people like it. I'm a little nervous to post it, to be honest. Please lmk whether I should continue or not.

It’s been weeks. You do your work, lifting bales of hay and dragging buckets of water to and from stalls. You exercise the horses and deal with the insanity that comes from off-the-track animals. You go until you’re dizzy and sweating and then finally take a break to breathe and drink and eat. And then you go home, and you sleep in your tiny bedroom, and eat breakfast in the gray light of dawn, and it’s fine. Everything is fine. And your whole life is just a constant cycle of fine. Trying to shake it from you feels like trying to swim to a shore you don’t know exists, while the sea expands around you, endless. There’s nothing wrong with it, you think. There’s nothing wrong with the act of treading water, unless you start to drown. But you can stay afloat. You can always stay afloat. And everything is fine. 

It’s been weeks since you moved here, and, for the first time, you decide to go into town. You take your time, body heavy, weighed down by the faint storm in your mind, and duck your head as the cab pulls up. You can’t afford a car. Silence fills the small interior as the driver moves off, heading towards the faint outline of the city on the horizon. The countryside looms, pale green hills cut through with brown and gray paths, and you’re small, insignificant, because there’s so much around you and so little inside you. Soon, the hills smooth into flat, paved sidewalks and roads, and the car wanders through the wreckage that is Small Heath, the closest town to your property. Around you, shouts and the murmur of other vehicles, flashes of dark-dressed people, children running amuck on the streets. 

“Where to?” The driver asks, their voice quiet. 

“Wherever’s closest and serves alcohol.” You place your hands in your lap, staring out the window at the black and gray around you, the shadows dancing across stone walls, the flicker of lamps as being lit as night draws close. 

The driver nods.

After a few minutes, you’re greeted with a dark exterior, matching the rest of the city. Nothing special, but you didn’t ask for anything special. You asked for alcohol. You pay the driver and step out of the car, looking up at the words The Garrison resplendent in gold above the entrance. Some light in this city of devils. You shake your head, questioning your own sanity in setting foot in a big city like this. You’re from the country. You’re made to live small days and dream small dreams, stay in the quiet outskirts. And, yet, here you are. 

You enter, with some trepidation, and quietly make your way through wooden tables to take a seat at the bar, eyes on the grayed photos decorating the wall in front of you. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and let your thoughts flow freely, trying not to judge yourself. The chatter of voices surrounds you, and the creak of chairs as weights shift, the clatter of glasses on tables. You’re dressed differently than everyone else in this bar. You hadn’t changed after work. Jodhpurs and a tight, tucked-in shirt, no overcoat. You release a tense breath and look up as the bartender approaches you. 

“Gin, I guess. Last Word, if you can do that.” You hate how shy you make yourself sound. You can face off a twelve-hundred pound animal with no fear, but become timid at any form of social interaction anywhere but your property. It makes you cringe. 

The bartender, a young blond woman, smiles faintly and nods at you. You go back to looking down at your hands in your lap, ears tuned to the noises around you. You catch phrases from conversations, little sayings, the chatter filtering in and out like a badly tuned radio. You receive your drink and sip slowly, waiting for the alcohol to find its way into your system and calm you, if only a little. The hair on the back of your neck raises; there are eyes on you.

As the night goes on, you find yourself in a cyclorama of constant movement, with you in the center. People come in and out. Shouting, standing on tables, making drunken toasts. Chairs get knocked over, thrown, laid on. The bartender calls to some of the men, smiling her little smile, and, at one point, sings a lilting tune that you faintly recognize but don’t know the words to. All the while, you’re still, silent, your own anchor in the blowing storm of the sea. 

No one sees you. No one cares. You finish your drink and sigh. Maybe part of you hoped someone would notice you, come over and speak to you. Maybe part of you wanted something more than fine. Maybe part of you thought you were some kind of special, some kind of chosen, the main character of your own story. Maybe part of you—

“Never seen you here before.” A voice next to you, low and gravelly, but soft enough that you don’t jump. 

You open your mouth to speak. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t seem to let them out. You shake your head, frustrated. The words are there. You can feel them burning on the inside of your throat; never been here before. You can’t speak them. You can’t even look at the man beside you. 

“Who are you?” His accent is different than yours, stronger. The softness starts to dissipate from his words and you grow tense, trying to breathe, trying to hold it together. 

Again, you try to speak, but can’t find the words. 

“I asked you: who are you?” He steps towards you. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch icy blue flicking over you, dark, high-quality clothing, and a cap held loosely in his hand on the bar, glinting in the golden light. That gets your attention, and you turn your head slightly, trying to get a good look without actually looking. Slim slivers of silver line the brim of the hat. 

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer.” Now there’s a threat in his voice and you pointedly look away. 

“I’m not from around here,” you say. You don’t want this man to know you. You don’t want a man who carries hidden weapons and threatens on the first meeting to know who you are. 

His head lifts slightly, so he’s looking down at you, and his mouth opens a bit, his tongue at the inner edge of his lips. Thinking. When he speaks, the threat is gone, the faint burn of his words completely erased. “You race horses?” 

You shake your head. 

“Why are you dressed for riding, then?” His arms cross, the cap on his left side. You track it silently, still not looking at him.

“I train them.”

“For racing.” He nods to himself, starting to look away from you, seeking his next target.

“No. After.”

He looks back, those piercing eyes back on you. Half of you wants to shrink into nothing, and the other part— well, the other part is fascinated with the idea of being someone else for the night, slipping into someone else’s skin and walking around, of being brave and social. His eyebrows raise slightly, a request for more information. 

You sigh, turn yourself in your seat, and face him. Brave. “I rehab horses that injure themselves on the track. Instead of shooting them, they give them to me.”

“Never heard of that.” You’re caught in his gaze, trapped there, and the most you can do is stare back. He sounds dismissive. 

“It’s real. You can come see it for yourself.” The words escape you before you ask them to, before you have time to think them through. Inviting a stranger to your property, where he could do anything he wanted to you in the middle of nowhere, where your screams would travel over the hills and reach no one. 

“Who are you?” He asks again. 

You shake your head. “I’m no one.” 

“Where are your stables?” 

You bite the insides of your cheeks for a moment. There’s no way of getting out of this. You already invited him. “A straight shot into the Northern countryside from Small Heath.”

He gives you a single nod. “Expect me tomorrow morning.”

You close your eyes, a faint burning sensation in the back of your throat. “Okay.”

You hear him start to walk away, heavy footsteps on the wooden ground, then, they stop, and your blood goes cold. 

“Thomas Shelby,” he says, and you open your eyes to find him looking over his shoulder at you. You get your first, non-panicked look at him. Small, well-muscled stature, with the posture of a man who doesn’t mind taking up space. Pitch black hair, shaved in the typical anti-lice style, with pale, porcelain skin and sharp cheekbones. And those eyes. Those eyes that look with such pointed intention, like every glance is a web of planning and strategy. 

“What?” So distracted by his appearance, you don’t catch his words. 

“My name. Thomas Shelby.” His head turns away from you, and his next phrase is faint. “Remember it.”

Part Two: Commit to the Bit

[sarcastic-cookie]

|Hannibal Chrollo x Starling Reader| A Strange Occurrence

Special thanks to @skyyletai for the amazing idea and for helping me with the structuring of this piece!!! Make sure to go follow them! Their writing is immaculate <3

Alright, so this is my first piece of writing on tumblr, and first time writing for Chrollo. Meaning he may be ooc. I tried the best I could to not make him too ooc though. The reader‘s gender is up for interpretation in this one, but I did write it with a fem reader in mind due to them being based on Clarice.

Click-clack, click-clack. Your footsteps echoed through the narrow, dimly lit corridor, reverberating off the damp concrete walls. Each step seemed to reverberate louder than the last, barely drowning out the thumping of your terrified heartbeat. As you descended deeper into the maximum security zone basement, the air grew heavier, and the oppressive darkness only seemed to intensify the nerves eating you alive. The dull hum of the flickering fluorescent lights provided the only illumination source, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. Amid your spiraling thoughts, you suddenly realized that the security guard had been silently accompanying you, his presence a jarring interruption in the otherwise suffocating silence

  "This is as far as I go. Are you sure you want to do this?" the security guard questioned, looking at you with uncertainty. Nodding your head, you watched as the guard unlocked the steel bars separating you from your goal. "This is the limit of my jurisdiction. Are you certain you wish to proceed?" questioned the security guard, eying you with uncertainty. You gave a firm nod as you observed the guard unlocking the steel bars standing between you and your objective.

A few days ago, your superior, Mr. Kurapika Kurta requested your assistance on a missing children’s case. The child’s name was Yuriko Tanizaki. She was a six-year-old little girl who had gone missing three days before when your superior notified you asking for your help. Her mother had called the police in tears stating that her daughter had been missing for several days. However, this wasn’t the only case of missing children. There have been many of these occurrences in the past month. The children would go missing for about a week before they were found mutilated, always missing a multitude of bones. Mainly consisting of teeth and phalanges. It appeared that the perpetrator didn’t see his or her victims as people, but rather as objects that could be tossed aside like trash after they fulfilled their purpose. The very thought of it makes you sick. Especially, seeing how these victims were all young children that could have had bright futures ahead of them.

You gathered your courage and steeled your nerves, pressing forward through the grim confines of the prison. The rhythmic click-clacking of your heels resonated off the cold, unforgiving walls, drawing the attention of the surrounding inmates. Each step sends shivers down your spine as their eyes fixate on you, their stares laden with a mix of curiosity and hostility. Among the cacophony of shouted remarks, a few words pierce through the din, the word "whore" echoing in your ears.

As you continued walking down what felt like a very long hallway, you noticed a woman muttering to herself as she gnawed on her fingernails which looked like they had been gnawed down past the tips of her fingers. You could see dried blood caking underneath. Just as her oceanic blue eyes met yours, you quickly averted your gaze, which just so happened to land on your destination target, Chrollo Lucilfer.

The was an ex-psychologist, who was also a notoriously well-known thief who only showed cruelty and apathy towards his victims. Shivers once more danced up and down your spine, as you locked eyes with the young man. His piercing gaze seemed to dissect your very soul, while the cross-shaped tattoo on his forehead beneath his bangs caught your attention.

Looking away, you force yourself to focus on your objective. "Dr. Lucilfer, may I please speak with you?" You asked, despite feeling terrified. His smile seemed forced as he inquired, "You’re one of Mr. Kurta’s, right? May I see some identification?"

"Of course," you said, reaching into your coat pocket and pulling out your ID while making sure to maintain a safe distance between the two of you. "Don't be shy now, come closer," he said intensely, staring into your eyes. You did as he said and took a step closer, still holding your ID up for him to see. "Closer," his voice rang through the room again as you advanced closer until you were only a few feet away from the glass enclosure, ensuring your protection from the unsettling individual that stood before you. Chrollo nodded his head in satisfaction as if he had confirmed something you still didn't know.

"Please, take a seat," he said, motioning towards the lone metal chair behind him. As he closed his eyes and sniffed the air, it became clear that he was trying to understand you better, to get into your head. After a moment, he stopped sniffing and gazed back at you. "You use coconut shampoo, don't you?" he said with a smirk. Nervously, you nodded and shifted your gaze to the collection of antique books and drawings inside Chrollo’s cell. 

"Dr. Lucilfer, do you enjoy classical literature?" you asked, trying to shift the conversation away from yourself. Your superior had warned you about the consequences of letting Chrollo learn too much about you. "Yes, I do. It helps me gain a better insight into the human psyche. I'm sure you're familiar with the saying, 'knowledge is key,' aren't you?" You nodded in response.

"Yes, Doctor. In fact, I was wondering if you would provide some insight on—" You finally tried to state your reason for coming, but you were instantly cut off by Chrollo, who shook his head at you in disappointment. "You were doing fine up until now. Such a shame you had to ruin it. Well, fine for a trainee anyway," he said, gazing back up at you. You nervously swallowed once again.

"Your identification expires in less than a week, so I figured you were either up to something or a student. From our interactions, I deduced you were in fact a student. You only proved my point further when you tried to push your agenda," he said patronizingly. 

"Mr. Kurta must be incredibly desperate if he’s willing to send down a trainee," he paused. "But, tell you what, I’ll entertain you by filling out your silly questionnaire if you tell me about yourself. We’ll call it a quid pro quo," he said, never once breaking eye contact. 

Trying not to let your fear show, you conceded. "Very well, what would you like to know?" you asked. 

"Let’s see… What was your worst childhood memory?" You froze, not expecting Chrollo to immediately start strong. You expected him to start light before going into darker subjects, but you guess you should’ve known better.

You mentally prepare yourself to recount the reason why you were so dedicated to this case in the first place. "Well, Agent L/n, tick-tock..."

"Well, for starters, growing up, I took on the parenting role of taking care of my little brother. Our parents had died in a plane crash a few years prior to this event. Our extended family didn't want anything to do with us, so we were tossed aside and treated like trash.

 One night, I was out scavenging for food since we didn't have any money. We would often go around offering prayers in exchange for food, but that particular night was especially rough, just like many other nights when nobody was willing to help us. So, I went to search for whatever I could get my hands on. I never stole, though. I found it wrong, no matter how desperate we were," you said, getting lost in the flashback.

You rummaged through the dirty dumpster, desperately searching for anything that might be edible. To your relief, you found an unopened can of baked beans. "Yes!" you cheered, glad that you and B/n wouldn't have to go to bed hungry. "I hope B/n likes it," you thought to yourself. You quickly returned to the hidden alleyway where you and B/n were staying, only to be shocked by what you saw. "B/n, what the hell are you doing?!" you asked, petrified by the scene before you. B/n looked up at you in surprise, his grip on the rusty scissors weakening.

I found B/n on the brink of killing an innocent animal for food,” you recounted, with tears welling up in your eyes. You blinked them back and focused on the young man in front of you. “Now, please tell me what you know about the Tanizaki case,” you requested. Sending the case file through deciding the questionnaire wouldn’t be a smart move. If anything, it would only offend Dr. Lucilfer, as he seemed to pride himself on his vast expanse of knowledge.

He picked up the case file from the metal slot and started reading through it. "My, my, it seems like you have quite a lively one on your hands," he said, flipping through the pages. As you watched Chrollo scan the documents, you could have sworn you saw a flicker of anger cross his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

"Your killer targets children. Why do you think that is?" he asked, his gaze hardened. "He or she has a vendetta against--" You started to respond, but were cut off. "Irrelevant," he said, his gaze still hardened. "What trophy is obtained from each of the victims?"

“Bones,” you said, confused.

 “Your killer seems to have a hankering for children. Don’t you think the stolen bones are a recompense for something?” 

"Now, tell me what happened after you discovered your brother," he said. Knowing you wouldn't get anywhere by arguing with the man, you began to speak. "After I found my brother about to murder the innocent animal, I quickly snatched the old rusty scissors out of his hand."

"What on Earth were you thinking?" you asked B/n in shock. His surprise quickly turned to shame as he turned away. "If I had known you were that hungry, I would have gone out searching earlier," you said, blaming yourself for what was almost the death of a poor innocent animal. 

Remembering what you had acquired, you quickly showed him the baked beans you had found. "I know it's not much, but I did manage to find some food for the night. Although it appears you need it more than I do, so I'll give you a bigger portion. How does that sound?" you asked, trying to forget about your discovery. B/n nodded his head, still ashamed of what he had done.

The next day, we were woken by the sound of footsteps, so we quickly ran and hid behind the nearest dumpster. It seemed to be a dispute over money between two individuals that had gone wrong. I didn't listen to the rest, I just wanted to get my little brother to safety, knowing how dangerous the situation could have become. I dragged him to the nearest public space, which happened to be a park. The park was bustling with many people, as there was some kind of parade going on, with lots of people dressed up in costumes. At the time, I didn't care about the parade, I just wanted to get my brother somewhere safe, but in all the commotion, my grasp on my little brother's hand became slippery, causing me to accidentally lose my grip.

“Come on, b/n we can make it just a little further,” your fourteen-year-old self said. Pushing and shoving through the crowd. “B/n?” You looked over your shoulder only to see your brother nowhere in sight. “B/N!!!” You began to shout in panic. 

When I realized I was no longer holding his hand, I froze. I desperately searched around for my brother but could not find him. I searched for hours, only for it to be futile in the end. He had been swept up in the crowd.

You could feel the salty trails making their way down your cheeks as you sobbed endlessly. “I’m so useless,” you mumbled to yourself. “I failed at doing the one thing I swore to never screw up.” You noticed the gazes of multiple passersby: some were filled with pity, others with mirth. They all just blended into one big blur as the reality of your situation dawned upon you.

I remember feeling all alone and realizing that my efforts were fruitless. I curled up on a park bench as everything around me became a blur. I didn't even realize it was nighttime until everyone started dispersing. It wasn't until a few hours later, after the park was empty, that I heard screaming coming from the forest behind the park where the campgrounds were located. Terrified but also curious, I ventured into the woods.

As you took shaky steps toward the woods, you mumbled to yourself, "Maybe this is a bad idea." You quickly shook your head and thought, "No, it's fine. After all, I don't have anything else to live for." Feeling dismayed, you continued, "If my curiosity is the end of me, then so be it." And so, ytadvanced into the forest. After a few minutes of walking, the screaming seemed to have stopped. You froze before continuing forward. Eventually, you came into a clearing, but what awaited you was not a sight for the faint of heart.

Before me laid four mangled children’s corpses. Some looked to have been there for a while as they had already started to decompose. The whole area reeked of death as I gazed around with tears in my eyes. One body that seemed to be fresh had caught my eye. Around its wrist was the beaded bracelet I had made for my brother before our lives went downhill.

You felt the bile rising in your throat as you gazed down upon the mangled corpse of your little brother. Waterfalls fell down your cheeks once more. “B/n I’m so sorry…” You said through gritted teeth, falling to your knees. As you gazed around at all the unfortunate victims, your despair only grew before the logical side of your brain kicked in, telling you to get the hell out of there before the perpetrator came back. And so, with a heavy heart and stinging eyes, you exited the clearing. Reporting the incident to the police. The incident, however, made you realize you did have a reason to live, to protect the innocent.

You could feel the familiar trails down your cheeks as you were no longer able to hold back your sorrow. When you looked up in surprise, you saw that Dr. Lucilfer’s face reflected your own. While not as noticeable, Chrollo appeared to have a single tear trailing down his cheek.

He quickly wiped his face, shaking his head. "I apologize, your story reminded me of something," he said. You wiped your tears similarly. "It seems you're not as cold and apathetic as you like to appear, Dr. Lucilfer. Now I have given you what you wanted, it's your turn to answer me," you said, trying to regain your composure. "What did you mean by 'hankering for children'?" you asked.

“Simple, our killer yearns for a replacement,” he said. 

With that, it had finally clicked. “By replacement, you mean a child of their own! We’re most likely dealing with a grieving parent then. Who tosses the kidnapped children aside when they fail to fill the void caused by their deceased child! The mutilations must be done out of anger and the bones must be recompense for their failure,” you said, figuring out the killer’s motivation. ‘Now to find out their identity,’ you thought.

"Thank you, Dr. Lucilfer, for your time," you said, bowing. "And to compensate for your cooperation, I promise to put in a good word to get you transferred to a nicer location," you said, overjoyed with your new discovery. Chrollo looked surprised before nodding, picking up one of his books, and opening up to a bookmarked page.

"I'll hold you to that promise then. Now, fly away back to your superior little agent," he said. "And don’t forget your case file" he informed, sending the file back through. You nodded grabbing the file before beginning your trek back to Mr. Kurta, excited to inform him of your discovery. Your excitement caused you to miss the greed in Chrollo's eyes as he gazed at you, not realizing you had also put yourself in grave peril.

You caught Chrollo Lucilfer’s attention, and that is never a good thing to do…

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 21

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

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Wednesday, November 25; 6:10 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room

I was running late this morning. For the first time since the beginning, I stayed up past curfew to study a bit more. Luckily, I didn’t get caught, but it did mess up my wake-up time. I hurried to get ready in the bathroom while Alexia was already in the room.

“Oh crap!” shouted Ale. “Ona, come here!”

“What? Wait a second, or Bronze will be all over me if I’m not ready.”

I finished applying my mascara as Alexia rushed to the bathroom door, smiling from ear to ear. I barely had time to put the mascara away before she pulled me to the only window in our room. I was speechless.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! It’s snowing?!”

“This is amazing!!!” Alexia exclaimed. “Look, everything’s white! It must’ve snowed all night. And we get out early today! Imagine the huge snowball fight we can have!”

“No way! And Bronze wants me to run with her this morning... She’s out of her mind.”

“You’re the one who’s out of your mind if you think you can get out of it.”

We jumped in sync at the voice. I closed my eyes, instantly regretting my words.

“And to your positions by the bed, young ladies? Immediately!” she scolded.

Alexia wasted no time trotting over. I swallowed hard and slowly turned around. She raised an eyebrow, seeing I wasn’t obeying.

“Seriously? You’re going to make me run in the snow?”

“It won’t just be a simple run if you don’t listen to me right now.”

In less than a second, I was in place. One look at her stern gaze changed my mind about defying her. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and noticed she wasn’t checking our room but rummaging through my wardrobe. I frowned, assuming she was looking for my sports clothes. I wasn’t wrong when she stood before me with a tracksuit and a thick sweater.

“You won’t leave this room until you’re changed.”

The witch! I sighed, grabbed the clothes angrily, and locked myself in the bathroom. I came out once I was done changing. Bronze smiled proudly when she saw me.

“Can’t we postpone this to tomorrow? I have a test later.”

“No, otherwise, you’ll keep making excuses, and you made it clear yesterday you needed motivation. Guess who’s in charge of your motivation?”

I rolled my eyes. She looked at her watch before looking back at me.

“You have half an hour to eat. I expect you on the field at seven. If you’re not there, I’ll drag you out by your ear if I have to.”

I grumbled as soon as she left the room. Alexia was laughing her head off. She could be happy about not having a supervisor on her case anymore.

“Why does she insist on you running today?”

“She remembered I missed my runs when things were tense between us. She’s determined to get me back on track. I guess she hasn’t figured out yet that I’m not interested.”

She burst out laughing. I only chuckled weakly. I could’ve done without this, especially today. I’m already sleep-deprived as it is. We headed to the cafeteria in the freezing cold. The temperature must have dropped at least five to ten degrees overnight. Until now, my uniform jacket and sweaters had been enough, but not anymore. I was freezing. I was glad when we reached the cafeteria. The meal went on cheerfully, as usual. Everyone was excited because of the snow. I must be the only one who doesn’t like it. It seemed no special arrangements were made for this type of weather. Alexia wasn’t kidding about the snowball fight after classes. I’d have to find a way to get out of it. Once I finished my breakfast, I joined Bronze after the meal. I knew she wasn’t joking with her threats, so I’d better not make her mad. I managed to arrive on the field early. I wasn’t surprised to see her already there. The snow had stayed on the ground overnight, but it didn’t seem to bother her in her run. I, on the other hand, had nearly slipped ten thousand times just on the way from the cafeteria to the field. Bronze smiled when she saw me.

“See, you can do it when you try.”

“Are you going to motivate me with threats every day?”

“Don’t take it that way,” she laughed. “It was the only way to get you moving. You need to clear your head before your test. I bet you’ve been thinking about it since last night, am I right?”

How does she know me so well? My silence answered her question. Thankfully, she couldn’t read my mind, or she’d know I stayed up past curfew last night. I hope she doesn’t notice I’m hiding something because I’m a terrible liar with her.

“Alright, let’s get started!”

I grumbled but got going. She matched my pace so we could run together. I went even slower than usual because of the snow. It wasn’t easy, and now wasn’t the time to break something. Bronze teased me, asking if I was running or trotting like a horse. Since I’m someone who can’t let my pride go unchallenged, I slightly picked up the pace halfway through our route. I regretted it a few steps later when I found myself sprawled on the ground. I heard Bronze laughing behind me. I groaned as I turned to see her trying to calm down, asking if I was okay, but failing.

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny! My back hurts!”

“Really?” she calmed down instantly.

She crouched next to me as I sat up. I groaned exaggeratedly, rubbing my back. I stifled a smile at her worried look. I took advantage of her lowered guard to push her shoulder with a big grin. I immediately lost my smile when I saw that my little push barely moved her.

“This isn’t funny, Ona,” she frowned. “I was really worried! Are you actually hurt or just messing with me?”

“A bit of both. My butt hurts a bit from the fall, but I’m okay.”

“And your back?”

“It’s manageable,” I giggled.

“Hm...”

I didn’t expect her to react so strongly. I bit my lip at the thought she might call me childish. That would offend me. But I let out a surprised gasp when snow hit my face. I barely had time to close my mouth and eyes before Bronze spread it all over. I spit out what got into my mouth, still in shock. I heard her laughing while I composed myself. I wiped my face with my arm to remove the rest. Well... It seems my supervisor knows how to have fun more than I thought. She got me at my own game.

“I hate you!” I laughed, throwing the first handful of snow I could grab at her.

Her laughter intensified as she brushed off the snow with one hand. She let herself fall to the ground, calming down. I laughed too, realizing what had just happened. I never thought Bronze would be capable of pranking me. My face must be bright red now. Anyway, I’m freezing. Snow must have gotten into my clothes. My thick sweater and small camouflaged jacket were no longer enough. I regretted not wearing the T-shirt Bronze had given me.

“Will you be alright?” she teased.

“You’ll pay for this! How old are you to be doing this?” I mocked.

“Okay, you win. We’ll stop for today,” she laughed. “It’s impossible to run in these conditions. Are you cold?”

“Yeah. Tell me, are we allowed to wear our big jackets over our uniforms?”

“Of course,” she smiled.

“Well, it won’t help me much. I didn’t bring any as big as I need.”

Bronze looked at her watch. I didn’t even know what time it was, but I hoped I had at least time to shower. I knew we started running early, so there was a good chance I did.

“It’s only a quarter past seven. Let’s shower, and I’ll bring one of my jackets to your room when I’m done. Is that okay?”

I nodded, smiling. She got up and helped me do the same right after. I was really cold but tried not to show it. We eventually split up to go to our respective rooms.

Wednesday, November 25; 2:50 PM - Math Class

I read through my paper one last time. I had ten minutes left if I wanted to change anything, but I couldn’t find any errors to correct. I really hoped I hadn’t messed up. I spent hours and hours working on it. Besides, Bronze asked me to tell her my grade once it was marked. She would kill me if I brought her a bad grade.

“Those who are finished may leave,” instructed my teacher. “The rest of you have five more minutes to finish.”

Many of my classmates sighed in relief. Chairs scraped noisily against the floor, creating a racket.

“In silence, please! Respect those still working.”

I look at Alexia, who is a bit further away next to me. My teacher had fun separating all the desks to prevent cheating. She's putting her things away. I put mine away as well. Anyway, I can't change much in five minutes. I managed to do all the exercises, so the die is cast now. I put my bag on my back and hand in my paper to the teacher before leaving. I see a lot of dejected faces as I exit, including Alexia's. Is it because of the test? I didn't find it that hard. It was even easier than I expected. Unless Bronze prepared me too well.

- Did you do well?

- Are you kidding? grumbled Alexia. Did you see how hard it was? I'm just glad it's over! He really went overboard with all those exponentials and everything! she added.

- I thought it was okay.

- Are you serious? You're the only one!

- Well, I must have spent at least six hours reviewing it since Monday.

- It's true, you fell asleep with your math book on you last night, she teased.

- Oh, come on! I grumbled.

Well, it's true. I fell asleep from exhaustion around midnight with my book on my chest. I really have to thank Bronze for preparing me so well. She did a great job by having me review everything from scratch. I have a lot to be proud of if I did well. Hopefully, that's the case. I take a deep breath, relieved that it's all over. It was my last class of the day. Alexia is all excited, and I don't think I can hold her back any longer.

- Come on, let's not drag. The girls are waiting for us!

- How can you be so eager to have a snowball fight, seriously? I chuckled.

- But it's fundamental! Don't you like it?

- Not really. Can't I be excused?

- No way! You won't back out.

- At least you'll have an even number, I argued.

- Alba is bringing one of her classmates, and I think Patri and Claudia are bringing people too.

Excuse failed. God will never be on my side. Alexia pulls me outside without giving me a choice. Fortunately, Bronze lent me a jacket and gloves. They keep me warm once outside. I find the jacket better than mine, which I forgot in Barcelona. It has fur inside that keeps me warm. I'm hesitating to buy a new one now that I know better. I might try to negotiate to keep it, or I hope she'll forget about it, though I highly doubt it. It's Bronze, after all. She never forgets anything. I don't know where Alexia is taking me. We just passed through the supervisors' dormitories. I didn't expect to find a large grassy and tree-filled area covered in snow just behind. It starts from one end of the school's wall and extends to the parking lot at the other end, hidden by a row of trees. Everything is white, it's beautiful. The place is already filled with many students having fun in different ways, alone or in groups. I find it surprising that they allow us to have fun here. Many snowmen have been made. Alexia guides us to our group of friends where I spot several unfamiliar faces.

- Ah! Finally, they're here, said Patri as we arrived.

- Sorry, we just finished a test, replied Alexia.

- How did it go? Lotte asked us.

- Too hard! Well... It depends on the perspective, apparently, she said, glancing at me.

I smiled, shrugging. I turned my eyes to the new faces. I feel like I'm the only one who doesn't know them, seeing how Alexia greets them. They seem to know me, though. One of the girls mentions my name while greeting me. It seems my reputation precedes me... They introduce themselves one by one. Ella, Misa, Maya, Laia, and Alessia. That's a lot of names to remember at once. I hope I won't mix them up. They all act differently. Alessia keeps smiling at me while Misa gives me a disapproving look. This whole situation makes me uncomfortable and makes me analyze it. From what I can see, the girls have a lot of spirit and won't back down easily. The battle is going to be tough.

- Well, I suggest we make two teams. Leah and I could be the leaders. Alba says.

- Are you kidding? retorted her sister. Why should it be the two of you?

- I agree with Alexia, Misa supported.I stand back as they start debating which arrangement would be best. I give Alessia, who comes to my side, a shy smile.

"The best thing is to let them argue among themselves," she comments.

"Absolutely," I chuckle. "Anyway, they won't have the final say against Alexia."

"It's true, she's hard to contradict," she agrees.

"Ona, in my team!"

"What did I say," I roll my eyes. "Never would be the right word..."

Alessia chuckles as I join Alexia, who, as predicted, won her position as team captain. Opposite her is her sister, who has chosen Laia as her first teammate. I'm relieved that Alexia asks for my opinion on the next picks. I suggest Leah and Alessia, since the latter seems nice. On the other side, Misa, Ella, Patri, and Maya complete the team. The last ones to join us are Claudia and Lotte. Alexia seems satisfied with her team. I thought we were going to have a little battle, but not at all. Alexia suggests we split up to find a "base" to prepare and come up with a plan of attack. I sense this game is going to be anything but fun. The two groups disperse into the small forest. Alexia finds us a big tree to hide behind. I crouch next to my roommate to prepare ammunition. I would do anything for her.

"Did you see the first girl Alba chose?"

« Laia »

« Yeah. She's my ex."

"Really?" I say in surprise. "What happened?"

"An overprotective sister who ruined everything, if you ask me," Alessia chimes in from across us.

"Because of Alba?"

"Yeah, among other things. She's friends with Leah here. They've been together in class for three years. Laia and I got together in our first year."

"And then Alba the savior threatened to beat her to death if she touched her sister."

I widen my eyes at Leah's revelation. I look at Alexia for confirmation. She just shrugs in response. I didn't think it was that serious. I understand better why she doesn't want to tell her about her instructor-turned-girlfriend.

"Why don't you put her in her place? You have the right to have relationships."

"You think I haven't tried?" she sighs. "We always end up fighting because she won't let it go."

"And you care too much about her, so you don't want to lose her."

Poor girl. I'm sure Alba doesn't even realize it. Because of her, her sister feels obligated to hide her new relationship from her. If I were in her shoes, I'd rather calm down than not know my sister is in a relationship. Well, with Joan, I still have plenty of time to worry about that.

"Enough with the balls," she says, standing up.

I admit we have plenty of ammunition already. I stand up too while Alexia discreetly looks behind the tree. I peer over her shoulder and spot Alba watching us a few meters away, also behind a tree.

"Should we pair up and take them from each side? One girl and one guy. One holds the ammunition, and the other shoots. How's that sound?"

"I'll pair up with Leah," I say without hesitation.

She smiles, approving our partnership. Alexia pairs up with Lotte and Claudia with Alessia. We each go our own way, trying to stay hidden behind the trees. I decided to hold the ammunition. I'm a terrible thrower.

"Why should I be the one to shoot?"

I giggle, thinking I’ve definitely chosen my partner well. She seems as motivated as I am for this stupid game. We're arguing about who should hold and who should throw when I’m already holding the balls in my arms. We stop when we're attacked by flying snowballs. We quickly locate the source. It's Alba and Ella - if I remember her name correctly - mocking us from not far away. I guess we weren't very discreet this time. Leah quickly reacts and sends a missile right into Alba's open mouth. Now it's our turn to laugh. We quickly take cover behind a tree, throwing snowballs at each other. Alba enjoys shooting at me since I can't respond with my arms full while Leah continues to attack them in turn. Our ammunition runs out quickly, so we decide to retreat. Our opponents don't seem to agree as they chase us. Finally, we abandon our initial plan, and I attack with Leah, both of us making our missiles. We try to lose them among the trees, but in the end, I just lose Leah . I sigh, seeing no one chasing me. Alba was following me, but she's no longer there. I try to hide to catch my breath. Bronze's punishments are taking a toll on my cardio. Maybe I should reconsider that jogging suggestion. It's always better to run for fun than be forced to do twenty laps as punishment. I jump when a hand touches my shoulder. My hand instinctively goes to my heart.

"Sorry," giggles Alessia. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Claudia?"

"And you with Leah?"

"We lost each other trying to shake off Alba and the brunette... Ella, I think?"

"Yes, that's right," she laughs. "I lost Claudia while escaping the others too."

Alessia moves closer to the tree to look behind it. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to catch my breath. I don’t even know if Alba caught up with me, but I think she did. She probably has better stamina than I do.

"Is someone chasing you?"

"Alba. Do you see her?"

"No."

I signal her to be quiet, and we start preparing some more ammunition. We leave our hiding spot. We find Alba more easily than I thought. We chain her up before she has time to realize what's happening. For the first time since the start, she's the one fleeing. I chase after her, not worrying about Alessia, trying to keep up with her pace. She's much faster, so it's hard. I try to throw snowballs at her, but I miss more than I hit. At one point, she stops abruptly to face me. She smiles while her chest rises and falls irregularly. She shows her hands in surrender. I'm not buying it. Alessia catches up to us. We simultaneously throw our last snowballs at her. I smile, seeing mine hit her squarely, unlike Alessia's, which lands much lower. She ducks to avoid it. My smile fades when I see who my snowball accidentally hit. I don’t even pay attention to the second snowball that must have perfectly hit Alba. I freeze in fear, imagining what's going to happen next. Her eyes are closed as if she’s absorbing the impact. The girl with her is laughing hysterically. I stifle a laugh, remembering her expression. My amusement fades when her eyes lock onto mine and her deep voice resonates through the forest.

"Ona Batlle! I hope you can run fast because if I catch you, you're in big trouble!"

I don't take this as a joke. I turn around, using Alessia for momentum. I weave through the trees, fleeing from my pursuing supervisor. I find the edge of the small forest, trying to maintain distance, but it’s no use. I lose my balance when she grabs my arm, pulling us both down. We roll in the snow before stopping further away. Bronze is quicker and pins me down with her weight. Realizing the mess I'm in, I muster my last strength to try to break free, but Bronze tightens her grip with one hand while the other shoves snow in my mouth. It’s the same scene as this morning. The difference is she’s holding me so I can’t struggle. I hear laughter in the distance, but I can’t tell who it is. Bronze laughs too as I spit out the snow. Opening my eyes, I see her cheerful face, now sitting on me.

"Are you okay?" she mocks.

"All this for a simple snowball?" I say between coughs.

She laughs, reaching towards my face. I flinch, not wanting more snow.

"Let me, she giggles. I just want to help."

I remain skeptical, even when she removes her glove. Unexpectedly, she wipes the snow from my face and pulls down my jacket that must have ridden up during our tumble. She stands up and offers her hand, which I accept. I'm completely soaked. I can't feel my frozen body. A gust of wind makes me shiver. I see my friends mocking me behind Bronze. Engen is also watching with an unreadable smile. I stop looking around when I realize we aren’t the only ones who stopped their activity to watch. Bronze snaps her fingers in front of my face.

"Are you listening, Ona?"

"Huh?" I say, startled. "What did you say?"

"Take off your jacket. It's soaked. You'll get sick."

"My jacket isn’t the only thing soaked. I'm completely wet."

Since I don’t react, she unzips my jacket and takes it off. I can't feel any difference because I'm so frozen. My shivering worsens. I try to warm up with my arms, but it's useless. She removes her own jacket and helps me put it on.

"No more playing in the snow for you today."

"Whose fault is that?" I grumble.

"I'm not the one having a snowball fight," she smiles.

"I'm not the one who accidentally stood behind Alba when she was supposed to get hit by my snowball."

Thinking back, I wonder if Alba did it on purpose given the smile she gave me before ducking. She laughs while trying to warm me by rubbing my arms energetically. I let her do it. I don't dare move my little toe because I'm so sore all over from the cold.

- I didn't know you were such a good thrower.

- Neither did I, I snorted. A stroke of luck, and of course it hits you.

She laughs as Engen joins us. She picks up Bronze's gloves from the ground and my jacket that my supervisor had tucked between her legs.

- Are you okay?

I nod to show her that I am.

- Your lips are all blue, Engen tells me.

- You're going to hear from me if I get sick because of you, I grumble.

- Hey, it's not my fault! You shouldn't have played in the snow.

- Are you okay, Ona? asks Alexia, who just joined us. Are you coming back to play with us?

- No, Bronze answers for me. I'm taking her back to your room so she can have a nice hot shower to thaw out.

- Anyway, the others acknowledged our victory by saying that hitting Bronze was the pinnacle, she giggles. Well played!

Even Bronze laughs at the news. My teeth start chattering loudly. That’s the last straw for Bronze, who cuts the conversation short. I have no choice but to follow her and Engen to the dormitory.

- Why were you there?

- To keep an eye out. Things can quickly get out of hand at times like this.

Engen revisits what just happened. She keeps repeating that I should have seen my face when I hit Lucy. She adds that our fall was memorable. I’ll probably remember my first snow day in Manchester for a long time. I’ll laugh about it when I tell the story later. It’s not every day a snowball accidentally hits your supervisor in the face. Engen turns back to her post at the dorms to continue keeping watch. Bronze accompanies me to my dorm, taking me through a back door I’ve never seen before.

- Are these the stairs you used when you brought me to your room?

- Yes. It’s our way to come see you. It’s actually an emergency exit, but it’s never used, so no students know about it.

- I guess I’m not allowed to tell anyone?

- Preferably not. We’d rather avoid having students hanging around this hallway to escape us.

I nod in understanding. This path is shorter for them, saving them from having to go around the building to get to our dorm. I only feel the warmth of the building once we reach the hallway on the first floor. The first thing I do when I get to my room is sit on my bed to try and take off my boots. Bronze helps me when she sees me shaking like a leaf. Even my socks are soaked, even though nothing should have gotten through the thickness of these shoes. I take off my jacket but keep my sweater on, remembering that I have nothing underneath but my bra.

- Take off your clothes so I can dry them and go take a shower, she orders me. I'll get you some dry clothes in the meantime.

- Get me some sweatpants and a big sweater, please.

I take off my pants and sweater while she has her head in the closet. She’s seen me more undressed than this, but I still feel just as embarrassed. I leave my clothes on the floor and lock myself in the bathroom. I take off the rest of my clothes before slipping into the shower. I sigh as the warmth calms my shivers. I stay there for a while, hoping I haven’t used up all the hot water, as my roommate might want to do the same when she gets back. This day has shown me that I’m not used to cold temperatures. Of course, I’ve seen snow before, but it’s extremely cold in Manchester. I also come from a warm country. I was born in Portugal and lived in Barcelona. That says a lot about my weather habits. Once done, I return to my room with just a towel covering me. I’m surprised to see Bronze has stayed. She’s lying on my bed, careful not to get her shoes on it. I bite my lip when I see she’s holding my sketchbook. I don’t like people entering my world without asking permission. I take a deep breath and move towards the clothes she’s prepared and laid out on my desk.

- You’re talented. I especially love this one, she says, showing me.

- Thanks...

- Sorry, she says, noticing my discomfort. It was on your bedside table, and I couldn’t resist.

- Oh, I must have forgotten to put it away then.

- Are you feeling better? Not too cold anymore?

- I’m fine, but I’ll get dressed before it comes back.

- Yep, I’ll leave you to it then. I was supposed to be keeping watch outside anyway. I’ve put your wet clothes on the radiator. See you tomorrow if I don’t see you before then.

We wish each other a good evening before she leaves. I smile when I see she’s thought of all my clothes, even my underwear. I glance at my sketchbook, which she’s put back on my bedside table, thinking I should remember to put it away. I finally gather my clothes and lock myself in the bathroom, not knowing when Alexia will return. In the end, despite being frozen, I loved this day. Now I just have to hope I don’t get sick from all this nonsense. I’m already sniffling ten times. That would be the last straw…

[pearlprincess02]

playlist for: ARIES EDITION

part 1 for more artist

BY ARIES MOONS

"ambitionz az a ridah" - tupac / "scream & shout" - will.i.am (feat. britney spears) / "bitch better have my money" - rihanna / "see you again" - wiz khalifa feat. charlie puth / "queen of the night" - whitney houston / "dear mama" - tupac / "drip" - cardi b (feat. migos) / "work" - rihanna (feat. drake) / "so emotional" - whitney houston / "money" - cardi b / "just like a pill" - pink / "come & get it" - selena gomez / "ring" - cardi b (feat. kehlani) / "i needed you" - blackbear / "where have you been" - rihanna / "young, wild & free" - snoop dogg & wiz khalifa (feat. bruno mars) / "bodak yellow" - cardi b / "on my own" - ross lynch / "raise your glass" - p!nk / "exchange" - bryson tiller / "love you like a love song" - selena gomez / "california love" - tupac / "hot girl bummer" - blackbear / "diamonds" - rihanna / blow me (one last kiss) - p!nk / "don't" - bryson tiller / "idfc" - blackbear / "feelin' myself" - will.i.am (feat. miley cyrus, wiz khalifa, french montana)

MORE SONGS (JUST VIBES)

"roar" - katy perry /"run the world (girls)" - beyoncé / "uptown funk" - mark ronson (feat. bruno mars) / "stronger" - kanye west / "don't stop believin'" by journey / "fighter" - christina aguilera / "eye of the tiger" - survivor / "i will survive" - gloria gaynor / "can't hold us" - macklemore & ryan lewis (feat. ray dalton)

BY 1ST HOUSE MOONS

"i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)" - whitney houston / "thriller" - michael jackson / "kill bill" - sza / "chained to the rhythm" - katy perry (feat. skip marley) / "big pimpin'" - jay-z (feat. UGK) / "i like it" - cardi b (feat. bad bunny, j balvin) / "breaking the habit" - linkin park / "sex" - the 1975 / "greatest love of all" - whitney houston / "firework" - katy perry / "black or white" - michael jackson / "robbers" - the 1975 / "broken clocks" - sza / "bartier cardi" - cardi b (feat. 21 savage) / "i will always love you" - whitney houston / "unconditionally" - katy perry "run this town" - jay-z (feat. rihanna & kanye west) / "i'm every woman" - whitney houston /"don't stop 'til you get enough" - michael jackson / "the weekend" - sza / "numb" - linkin park / "WAP" - cardi b (feat. megan thee stallion) / "california gurls"- katy perry (feat. snoop dogg) / "empire state of mind" - jay-z (feat. alicia keys) / "good days" - sza / "material girl" - madonna

MORE SONGS (JUST VIBES)

"stronger (what doesn't kill you)" - kelly clarkson / "unwritten" - natasha bedingfield / "titanium" - david guetta feat. sia / "eye of the tiger" - survivor / "brave" - sara bareilles / "shake it out" - florence + the machine / "the middle" - jimmy eat world

aries moon playlist (honorable mention : moon - mars aspects)

BY ARIES VENUSES

"home with you" - madison beer / "alejandro" - lady gaga / "american idiot" - green day / "consideration" - rihanna (feat. sza) / "fantasy" - mariah carey / "pretty savage"- blackpink / "born this way" - lady gaga / "BOYSHIT" - madison beer / "EARFQUAKE" - tyler, the creator / "feel special" - twice / "obsessed" - mariah carey / "judas" - lady gaga / "hips don't lie" - shakira (feat. wyclef jean) / "needed me" - rihanna / "911 / mr. lonely" - tyler, the creator (feat. frank ocean and steve lacy) / "FANCY" - twice "baby" - madison beer / "it's not living (if it's not with you)" - the 1975 / "DDU-DU DDU-DU" - blackpink / "bad romance" - lady gaga / "when i come around" - green day / "rude boy" - rihanna / "see you again"- tyler, the creator (feat. kali uchis) / "selfish" - madison beer / "what is love?" - twice / "robbers" - the 1975 / "holiday" - green day / "is this love" - bob marley & the wailers / "IFHY" - tyler, the creator (feat. pharrell williams) / "I CAN'T STOP ME" - twice / "reckless" - madison beer / "girls" - the 1975 /

MORE SONGS (JUST VIBES)

"can't be tamed" - miley cyrus / "S&M" - rihanna / "womanizer" - britney spears / "i will always love you" - whitney houston / "love me harder" - ariana grande (feat. the weeknd) / "break free" - ariana grande (feat. zedd) / "we found love" - rihanna (feat. calvin harris) / "heart attack" - demi lovato

BY 1ST HOUSE VENUSES

"hot n cold" - katy perry / "pillowtalk" - zayn / "girlfriend" - avril lavigne / "formation" - beyoncé / "boss bitch" - doja cat / "good 4 u" - olivia rodrigo / "last friday night (T.G.I.F.)" - katy perry / "entertainer" - zayn / "déjà vu" - beyoncé (feat. jay-z) / "hurricane" - halsey / "favorite crime" - olivia rodrigo / "dark horse" - katy perry (feat. juicy j) / "dusk till dawn" - zayn (feat. sia) / "irreplaceable" - beyoncé / "now or never" - halsey / "complicated" - avril lavigne / "best friend" - saweetie (feat. doja cat) / "teenage dream" - katy perry / "drunk in love" - beyoncé (feat. jay-z) / "without me" - halsey / "chanel" - frank ocean / "juicy" - doja cat / "flawless" - beyoncé (remix feat. nicki minaj) / "my type" - saweetie / traitor"- olivia rodrigo / "self control" - frank ocean / "streets" - doja cat / "good years" - zayn / "partition" - beyoncé / "control" - halsey / "sk8er boi" - avril lavigne / "rare" - selena gomez / "pyramids" - frank ocean / "graveyard" - halsey / "single ladies (put a ring on it)" - beyoncé / "hands to myself" - selena gomez / "tap in" - saweetie / "woman" - doja cat / "bad idea right?" - olivia rodrigo / "my happy ending" - avril lavigne / "nights" - frank ocean / "who says" - selena gomez / "better" - zayn / "ghost" - halsey / "say so" - doja cat / "moon river" - frank ocean / "obsessed" - olivia rodrigo / "when you're gone" - avril lavigne / "love you like a love song" - selena gomez / "gasoline" - halsey

MORE SONGS (JUST VIBES)

"feelin' myself" - nicki minaj (feat. beyoncé) / "fancy" - iggy azalea (feat. charli xcx) / "confident" - demi lovato / "glamorous" - fergie ft. ludacris / "love myself" - hailee steinfeld / "me too" - meghan trainor / "beautiful" - christina aguilera / "pretty hurts" - beyoncé /

aries venus playlist (honorable mention : venus - mars aspects)

OTHER ARIES PLAYLIST

aries sun playlist (honorable mention : sun in 1st house, sun - mars aspects)

aries rising playlist (honorable mention : mars in 1st house, mars - asc aspects , mars dominants)

main masterlist

©pearlprincess0

[byeuijoo]

not so secret 𐀔 kim woonhak

genre : pure fluff ⋆ warnings : nothing particular just some marvel endgame movie spoilers ⋆ word count : 1219

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ୨ ✩ ୧

your mother always taught you that lying was a sin, but was lying so bad if it meant preserving something that could make you happy? you'd thought long and hard about whether you should finally tell your group of friends that you were in a relationship with one of them — all this to end up telling you that keeping your love story a secret for the time being was the best solution.

you and woonhak tried hard to keep a low profile, slipping away from time to time, each time finding a new hiding place to spend a little moment just the two of you. but sometimes, the temptation to glue each other was too strong — and fortunately, it seemed totally natural to your friends' eyes.

after a long week of classes, your tradition was to spend the night at sungho's house, eating anything and everything while playing silly games with quality background music specially chosen by the one and only han dongmin. so here you are, in sungho's living room, sipping your peach iced tea while watching jaehyun fight dongmin over the best marvel superhero.

« i'm telling you captain america is the best ! » he suddenly swung a cushion at the black-haired boy's face. and after that, taesan retorted, trying to convince jaehyun that iron man was actually better than captain america. « but he's dead ! » jaehyun shouted, which amused the rest of the people in the room, including you. but your attention was drawn to a certain young boy, climbing the stairs, who gave you a look and a smile you couldn't resist.

« i'm going to the bathroom, i'll be right back. » you say to the boys, before throwing off your blanket and making your way discreetly upstairs.

looking around you, tiptoeing on your toes, your body was suddenly dragged into a room, which almost made you cry out in surprise. but your eyes soon found the beaming face of your boyfriend, who had taken you prisoner in his arms.

« i could have hit you. » you said softly, pinching his rib, which drew a little laugh from his lips. « i know you wouldn't have done it. » he said in return, in a whisper, before placing a kiss on your cheek.

it was this kind of moment that you cherished the most, a relaxing, soothing atmosphere that made you feel safe and warmed your heart. and this kind of cocoon, you only had it with woonhak. certainly, you were still young, just discovering what love is — but you already knew that your heart had a soft spot for him.

camouflaging your tiny body against the warmth of his, woonhak stroked up and down your spine, simply enjoying your presence. « we're going to get caught if we stay here much longer, » you whispered, gently straightening up to rub the tip of your nose against his cheek, « we should go back downstairs. »

the young boy nodded, but didn't miss the opportunity to place a little kiss on your cheek, which made your heart beat faster. you didn't even have time to retort, he was already out of the room, running to join the other boys in the living room. tapping your cheeks to keep from grinning like an idiot, you followed his lead as you joined them again, without noticing the suspicious looks juggling the youngest and yourself.

later that evening, jaehyun had the bright idea of playing a silly and childish game called : truth or dare. sitting next to woonhak, his hand naturally clinging to yours but camouflaged by your blanket, you rolled your eyes as you observed the dares given, each more idiotic than the last one. « you guys really are a great team of idiots.. » you sighed as you finished your pizza, instantly regretting your words when your gaze met dongmin's.

« y/n, you talk a lot but don't play much. » you saw it, the machiavellian look in his eyes, and the mischievous smile on his lips just afterwards, the black-haired boy undoubtedly had an idea in mind, « so, truth or dare? »

in both cases, you knew you would regret your decision. but in both cases, you were obliged to play. so, glancing slightly at your (secret) boyfriend, who was urging you to answer, you sighed, finally declaring : « truth. »

taesan seemed satisfied with your answer, and glanced at jaehyun who nodded briskly, with a smile so big it could take up the whole of his face. « are you and woonhak in a relationship? » he asked so boldly that you might have fallen off your chair if you'd been sitting on one.

you were trapped, and your round, big eyes must have betrayed your answer. you seemed speechless, unsure if it was the right time to finally confess to all your friends that, yes, you were in a relationship with woonhak. but before you can say anything, leehan, who had slipped in behind you unawares, pulled the blanket from over your hands and revealed to everyone what was hidden underneath : your fingers entwined with each other.

« you can no longer deny it. » commented riwoo, who found the scene unfolding in front of him particularly amusing. and when you finally give in, nodding positively and sighing, thunderous applause and shouts of euphoria echoed through the room, « yes. we're together. woonhak is my boyfriend. »

observing the reactions of the boys one by one, who all seemed very happy to finally know the truth, you insisted that he was YOUR boyfriend while throwing lasers with your eyes at jaehyun, who had just thrown himself at the younger boy, already starting to tease him about your relationship. woonhak's hand unhooked from yours in a desperate attempt to get rid of the big puppy that was crushing him right now, giving sungho the opportunity to approach you, a smile far too glorious to be natural.

suddenly pushing him away and crossing your arms against your chest, you prevented a laugh from escaping your lips, wanting to continue sulking. « you're not mad? » you asked in a small voice, glancing at your friend out of the corner of your eye. for his part, sungho shrugged, shaking his head negatively, « not at all. if you hadn't told us, you must have had a reason to do so. » — you loved that he was so understanding, and you thanked him inwardly for not reacting immaturely and reproaching both of you for your silence. but something wasn't quite right : how could they all have known?

« how long have you known about this? » you finally asked, as he ruffled your hair in a comforting gesture. the eldest of the group sat down beside you, patting your shoulder as you watch the youngsters making a mess a little further on, « dongmin has been having doubts for a while, » he explained, before pinching your cheek, « but next time remember to lock the door when you hide somewhere in my house. »

with a falsely shocked expression and round eyes, you nodded and laughed. in the end, sharing your secret with your closest friends wasn't such a bad idea.

⠀

reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated !

[fortunekookie07]

Well here it is the story I was working on. Not sure about the ending buuuuuut these things usually kinda write themselves. I kept going back and watching memories. Both ones I have and ones others have shared to get Rafayel's character right. I hope he isn't too OOC.

Little Seastar

Rafayel paused mid brushstroke as a delicious aroma wafted to his nose from upstairs. His stomach rumbled in response. He was hungry. It had been hours since he had eaten anything. Too absorbed in his latest work to remember to eat. He set down his brush and palette before climbing down from the ladder.

He let his nose lead him up the stairs to the kitchen. He paused in the entryway watching you. Soft music was playing in the background, and you were humming as you sautéed the shrimp in the pan. Then you turned around, and a smile came to his lips. Walking forward, he enveloped you in his arms and kissed you softly.

"I'm hungry," Rafayel said in his whinny tone, looking over at the pan of shrimp. You kiss his nose and step out of his embrace. "Lunch is almost ready. Will you go get Maren?" You step back to the stove and get shoves his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room.

A minute later, Rafayel is rushing back into the room, surprise written all over his face. "Come see this now!" He demands grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the kitchen and to the living room. Concern rushes to your face and your heart clenches in fear.

He pulls you into the room and points quietly. It takes a moment before your eyes register what you are seeing.

There sitting on the floor is Maren, your four year old daughter blowing bubbles at a fish swimming through the air around her. She starts giggling and then cups her palms together. The fish immediately swims into her hands.

Rafayel holds his finger up, stopping you from speaking as he quietly moves to her side, bringing his fist up to his mouth for a moment. When he lowers his hand and opens his palm, a blue fish appears. He sends it to Maren. She squeals in delight, clapping her hands as it mingles with the red fish swimming around her.

Her head whips around, and her eyes go wide. "Daddy!" She shouts, waving her arms. He leans down and scoops her up, kissing her face and cheeks as she giggles loudly.

You look down at them, a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your heart. Maren looks just like Rafayel. The same purple hair and blue pink eyes copied perfectly into her face. Most people said she was the perfect mix of you and Rafayel, but looking at the two of them together, she was definitely leaning more towards him.

"Where did you learn to do that, my little Seastar?" Rafayel asked, standing up with her in his arms. "By watching daddy!" She says excitedly, smiling from ear to ear. She notices you are also in the room and waves her arms in your direction. "Mommy, mommy, did you see? Did you see what I did?" You take her into your arms and smooth down her hair.

"I did see that little fish is cute." You hold her to you and look over her head at Rafayel in concern. It's perfectly fine for Maren to blow bubbles and make fish appear at home, but she is too young to understand why she shouldn't do that outside the house.

Most people believe that Lemurian's are gone. Only the ruins at the bottom of the sea all remain. You know differently, of course. Your husband is one of the last direct descendants of the mystical bloodline. Your daughter, too.

It was time to teach her about her heritage and how special she was. You share a look with Rafayel before turning to the kitchen. "Come here my little guppy, time for lunch. I made shrimp pasta." Another thing that Maren had gotten from Rafayel was her love for seafood. It had to be fresh too, they both disliked the frozen stuff. If it wasn't fresh they wanted no part of it.

"Tomorrow we are going to take a trip on the boat." Rafayel said placing Maren's bowl on the table as you set her in her booster seat. "Are we going to see the big fish?" She asked looking at Rafayel, her eyes were practically sparkling in excitement. "Well yes, but other things as well." He said sitting down with his own bowl and sliding mine over.

Her bedtime stories often were about the sea creatures that Rafayel had known as a child. He had befriended some whales and told Maren about them in great (and probably exaggerated) detail.

Early the next morning Rafayel for once was not slow to get out of bed. The sun had not started its ascent across the sky and he was already rearing to go.

"Come on, hurry up slow poke." He said, gently smacking your cheek to make sure you were awake. You roll your eyes at his antics but ge out of bed regardless.

Once dressed in your swimsuit you pull on a pair of shorts and slip your feet into a pair of sandals. Rafayel has dressed already and is making his way to Maren's room, she has the same issues with getting out of bed. Not wanting to leave the warm confines of her blanket or release her favorite plush seahorse. However such was not the case this morning.

She bounced our of bed like she'd eaten a bunch of sugar. You eyed Rafayel suspiciously. He only winked at you in return. You shake your head with a smile at their antics and set breakfast on the table. Toast with Blueberry jam and scrambled eggs.

You watch as Maren bounces into the room full of energy. Rafayel has dressed her in a blue one piece bathing suit. The one with a ruffled skirt and a lighter blue bow on the back. He's even done her hair up with two pigtails. When Maren turns around you can see part of her hair has been braided up into both sections. You shake your head. Rafayel was truly gifted with his hands. Who knew that also included style your daughters hair every morning.

With breakfast eaten and Maren just begging to leave you begin your last checks. Picnic basket packed with all sorts of treats and a cooler of drinks, it's time to load up the car and leave. The drive to the docks is short and it's not long before you're parking the car and getting out.

Maren all too eager, has already undone her seat belt and is waiting for the door to open. She dashes down the path running to the boat. As if realizing something she turns and looks at you confused. Mommy, which one is our?" You stop short and then burst out laughing.

Of course Maren doesn't remember which boat to get on. She wasn't born yet the last time a sea trip was taken. "Daddy!!!" Maren cries scrunching her face up and sticking her bottom lip out. "Mommy is picking on me!" She cry running over and clinging to his leg. He moves her back and squats down to her level taking her left hand.

"Well that's not nice, shall I punish her for you?" He asks all serious. Maren's face lights up, delighted. "Yes!" She says a mischievous look on her face, mirroring the one on his. He leans closer and whispers in her ear, a wicked glint in his eye as he stares at you the whole time.

Oh brother, you think holding your face and shaking your head. Suddenly an idea pops in your head and you toss your head back hand to your forehead.

"Oh what should I do? My own daughter and husband are plotting against me!" You cry, laying the drama on thick. "And you say I'm dramatic." Rafayel mumbles standing up again.

Twenty minutes later the boat is prepared and finally headed out to open sea. A breeze has picked up and the smell of the sea water is thick in the air. Rafayel is manning the boat. He knows exactly where to go, requiring no map or guidance. This was his home after all. He had always know the way home.

Before much longer the boat is slowing down, destination close at hand. Deep in the waters below lay the ruins of Lemuria. The lost underwater civilization. The boat stops completely and Rafayel releases the anchor so the boat doesn't drift while unoccupied.

You kick off your sandals and strip your shorts off. Turning to look Maren has also discarded her shoes and looks a little nervous. Rafayel presses a button and the stairs pops out from the side, along with a platform to sit or stand on and dip your feet into the water.

He helps Maren down the stairs and tells her to wait on the platform. You don't notice this as you are pushing your shoes under the lounge chairs and folding your shorts and placing them neatly on the seat. You don't see Rafayel sneaking up behind you until it's too late.

He's scooped you up and you squad in surprise arms going around his neck to hold him closer. "W-what are you doing?!?" Your voice is still a few octaves higher then normal from shock. "Punishing you." Is all he says before walking over to the edge of the deck and jumping into the water with you.

Your shock barely has time to register before his lips find yours and presses a fire kiss to your mouth. Despite five years of marriage his love and desire for you have never died or dimmed.

"Rafayel!" You shout smacking his shoulder and swim to the surface. His laughter resounds around you before he grabs your ankle and pulls you back down to him kissing you again. "Don't be mad." He says after making you feel dizzy.

"Is this what you whispered to Maren?" You ask crossing your arms and raising a brown. "Maayyybe!" He says finally going back to the surface. Maren is waiting on the platform both eager and uncertain.

"Come here my little starfish." Rafayel says holding out his arms as he leans up onto the platform. She takes a step closer. "All Lemurian's can breath underwater." He continues holding his arms out to her but Maren scoots back a step and fists her skirt. "I'm only half...". She trails off the rest of the words not needing to be said. Rafayel hoists himself out of the water and goes over to her hugging her tight.

"Half does not mean less, you already have some abilities. So breathing underwater is a given. It's the most basic." She looks at him hopeful. "But what if I can't." He kisses her cheek. "In that unlikely and impossible case ill give the ability to you. Mommy can because I gave it to her a long time ago." She nods finally convinced.

You watch as Rafayel slips back into the water and holds his arms out for Maren again. This time she takes his hands and he lifts her into the water. He slips below the surface and holds her hand waiting for her to come on her own. Finally she ducks her head underwater and takes a shallow breath.

You watch anxiously for any signs of not breathing but none come. "There you have it Starfish, water breathing abilities". Rafayel says proud as he swims lower. You follow him down to the bottom.

The sun is almost in the middle of the sky by now, lighting up the bottom of the ocean floor. At first glance all that lies below is seaweed, coral, the odd seashell, and random things that sparkle. But off in the distance you start to see spiraling towers of marble. The closer you get the more the shapes come into view before your eyes.

Marble and gold have been used to create what was once beautiful structures. Long abandoned now, it's not hard to imagine how lively this once was. You remember Rafayel told you before that this was Whalefall city. His place of birth.

Rafayel begins with the tale that he had told you. When he had been born the Lemurian race was already in a decline, not many had been born in a long time and he was one of the last. You had never asked why. Some topics just shouldn't be broached. He didn't bring it up now either.

You make your way to the great temple, the sight still as magnificent as the first visit was. Time has preserved it well. Little damage can be seen. You walk up the steps of the temple trailing behind Rafayel and Maren. She is listening raptly, hanging on to every word he says.

The moment she steps across the threshold of the doorway she is surrounded by thousands of bubbles swirling around her like a tornado. When it dissipates there on her face were purple-blue shimmering scales. They were delicately placed under eyes down her checks and neck. Very similar to Rafayel's.

"Beautiful." You whisper kneeling down and tracing the shimmery scales. "What is it mommy?" She asks you confused. Rafayel answers instead. "The ocean has claimed you as one of its own." He was in awe of the appearance of the scales.

"I've never seen or heard of this happening so quickly before. Some wait years before they experience this." Rafayel's voice got softer as he kept muttering. He crossed his arms and tapped his chin deep in thought. Finally he said "my daughter is just special." His statement was proud, if his broad smile was anything to go by. "Come on angelfish there is lots to see and not a great deal of time!"

He excitedly took the two of you on a tour of the temple explaining in great detail about his culture and former home.

As you were getting ready to leave a noise vibrated through the water. "What was that?" You look all around trying to find the source. "Whales." Rafayel says pointing to a ways off. "A pod is passing by. It's best not to disturb them. They have young with them and mothers are quite protective of their babies." Maren looked like he'd just said that her favorite seahorse was a vicious monster that would eat her, her bottom lip trembled as she looked down.

She stopped walking and then stared. "Daddy what is this?" She was holding a tiny white object that was wiggling. "That's a seastar." He says walking back over to her. "Oooh, can I keep it?" She asks eagerly.

You shake your head no before speaking. "No Maren, this is a living sea creature. You can't take it out of its home." You prepare yourself for the worst, but surprisingly Maren gently puts it back down from where she'd picked it up.

"I'm hungry, can we go eat now?" Thankfully she's already forgotten about not getting to see the whales.