#tabi | out of the skin

[dreaisgrayte]

Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 

You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 

He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy. 

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

[kindheartedgummybears]

Minecraft Little Hope mod when??

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship-coded. sappy. first kiss. isekai elements referenced if you pay attention. aged-up characters to early 20s. reader is part of the corps however not from time period nor country. love triangle.

Tanjiro is exactly where you expect him to be when you find yourself unable to turn in for the night, slipping your feet into tabi slippers, and finding the courtyard where he trains.

You’re no longer at the Ubuyashiki Estate these days but at the Butterfly Mansion, a welcome reprise from the rest of the Hashira with the subset of your comrades you’re most comfortable with - your best friends, in the same predicament as you, slumber in their own respective bedrooms. You can imagine that one has slipped into the room with Genya at some point in the night, and the other is probably asleep, her own gentleman (gentle really only with her and perhaps his pet beetle) caller having sent word that he’d be visiting in the morning. The Butterfly Mansion is truly a beautiful, restful place compared to the bustle of the estate but your heart has been aflutter ever since you came here.

You hate to admit it, but Kanao gets under your skin. 

For a moment, as from afar you watch Tanjiro practice his strike for what may very well be the thousandth time that night, you stand transfixed, wondering if it is worth it to break his concentration to tell him what’s been on your mind. After all, perhaps all this for him it’s something silly and inconsequential, something you’ve only built up in your mind. The draw to him may not be something real even, and even if it were, you are not destined to stay in this land or even this time period.

Whether or not you like him doesn’t matter. Whether or not you love him is moot. You can’t stay. Knowing how he feels about the situation will not serve to clear the muddy waters, plus you have never been one to draw unnecessary love triangles, anyway. 

Before you can let your own misgivings overtake you and turn tail, Tanjiro spots you from afar.

He calls your name loudly, one last strike before his sword is sheathed, and set by the trunk of the nearest cherry blossom tree. He’s fast, and before you know it, he’s by you, grinning widely as he does when he’s excited, despite the exhaustion evident in the very marrow of his bones, communicated by the sheen of sweat overlying tense, overworked muscles. 

“You’re up,” he says, and you try to come up with the best way to organize your thoughts. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, carefully. He’s moving back to where he’s left his sword, but this time he’s taken your hand gently, pulling you along as one does a small child. He has the tendency to do this, reach out to you without considering it first, still unable to understand the effect his touch has on you. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that you let only him and your closest friends touch you casually, and you wonder how he would take it if he realized.

Has he realized yet how special he is to you? 

Your mouth opens then closes as he unsheathes his sword again, and puts himself back in stance, throwing a glance at you to make sure you’re out of striking distance.

“Is it okay if I keep going? I assume you want to talk, but I’m not done. I can still listen, though.”

You nod then look around. Part of you is surprised Kanao isn’t out here, watching him with loving steady eyes, a mind that is as unreadable as her feelings are obvious. You can’t tell if she sees you as a threat or not, or if she sees you at all. But she’s nice. And you are nice. 

That’s all you are to each other and this arrangement is what you wish it could remain. 

Regardless, Aoi’s words have unsettled you.

I know how you feel and I’ve felt that way, but Kanao needs him.

Just thinking about how she practically accosted you, while well-meaning, terribly abrasive, you can feel your teeth clench. 

You haven’t done anything wrong except be yourself. You don’t know how to control the fact that he gravitates towards you. You haven’t tried to seduce him; you understand the roles of girl code, that she was there first, that she loved him first, that she was by his side when he was comatose, when he was fighting, when he was becoming what he is now, and you have no right and yet-

“Talk to me.” 

Tanjiro pauses, and he’s looking at you again, eyes washing over you in the moonlight as though they’re looking for any pain he can assuage. It hurts how he can care about you so deeply, like the most attentive of lovers, when all you’re fated for is a short-lived friendship. You have to remind yourself constantly that he does this for everyone, he loves everyone this tenderly, and thus let your heart stop racing, but there’s not much you can do when all you can think of is the way your lips met just days ago.

It wasn’t a kiss. Kisses are for people who love each other. Kisses are for him and Kanao. He is not for you, nothing is for you, everything is for Kanao.

“Kanao is in love with you,” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

You can see his body tense, and then he breathes out slowly. You watch him move, and you can feel the night chill suddenly intensify, your arms wrapping around yourself for warmth but for comfort. Your body is trembling. Why did you say that? Everyone knows. It’s not a secret that they’ve been fated for each other for the past several years, long before you tumbled into this world that doesn’t in any way belong to you.

“I know.”

Heat rushes through your body. It’s the worst answer he could have possibly given you, polite and patronizing at once. He’s watching you carefully now, eyes matching your gaze, his hands running through his hair.

“I’m glad you know,” you finally convince yourself to say, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. Heartstrings taut to snapping, you try desperately to come up with a way to change the subject. You don’t care to hear about how easily he returns her feelings or any other part of their love story, whatever you’re not privy to.

“We’re supposed to head out in a couple of days, maybe you shouldn’t tire yourself out like this.” you offer. You turn your head from him, your hand on the tree trunk before you, pretending that the ridges of the bark are of particular interest to you now, although it’s mainly to catch a few errant tears threatening to escape your lash line. “When do you sleep?”

“__.”

He calls your name again, softer this time. Your heart sinks into your stomach. You can’t discuss this anymore.

“The soup Kanzaki-san made today was quite delicious, don’t you think? I have to ask for the recipe.”

There is a pause that is far too loud, and you’re now frozen stiff, holding back tears. You know he will not let you move on, but the idea of rejection in the middle of the night is just too much for you to bear.

Lovesick. Truly lovesick you are at this venture in time, and the fantasy has to last just a little bit longer. It’s all you have going for you in this awful situation, the dream that even if you’re trapped here slaying monsters for an indeterminate length of time, away from family and the technology you took for granted, perhaps he can smile and warm you like the sun. 

“I think Inosuke may have said my name right today, Tanjiro, isn’t that so funny?!”

You laugh, but it’s coming out disingenuous, a sound not unlike a barking sick cough.

“___,” he says again, his voice even softer now, pleading with you to manage your own font of emotions. 

It’s too much. 

You turn quickly and whisper something about being tired and needing to leave, and the moment you walk past him, he grips your wrist again, stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t love her.”

Your head shakes automatically even if it’s what you wanted so desperately to hear. “I think you should,” you say in the smallest of whispers.

Your hand pulls but Tanjiro doesn’t let go, instead stepping around to face you. Your head is turned downwards but gently, he takes your chin and raises it up to his face. You look away, but you’re biting your lip and the tears are starting to well up again. Your heart is racing out of control.

This isn’t what you want, but it is. You must still be dreaming, never having left the security of your bed. 

“Why are you crying?” 

Concern dripping in his voice, he’s thumbing away tears that you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“I…” you trail off. There’s no excuse, really.

“What do you want me to tell you, __?” Tanjiro asks. It’s a harsh question but it’s said with firm kindness; the gentle glow in his crimson eyes are patient still.

That you love me as much as I do you, you think, then dispel. Preposterous.

“I’m not sure,” you lie. He frowns, the immediately detected deceit disappointing him. He lets go of your chin, then takes both of your hands in his. Your stomach turns as he raises them to his lips.

“Kanao is important to me-” he starts. You wince and pull away, but he holds on tighter, “but you too are important. Very much so.”

“She loves you-” you start, and he quickly rebuts, “I love you.”

And this stuns you to silence.

“You…”

“Yes, you.”

A sharp inhale as your body recovers from sobs racks your body. Tanjiro pulls your knuckles to his lips and kisses, and you find your breathing erratic again.

“Tanjiro,” you start, and he pulls your face closer.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” he says, and the adoration in his eyes makes it so clearly true, sparkling in the moonlight. Your mind’s eye spins memories like films, every time he’s been too close, every time he’s been too careful, every time he’s wanted to be with you above everyone else.

“Are you sure?” you ask. It’s the lamest of things that you can ask but you have to hear it from him, the man who loves everything and everyone, that would choose anything before himself. 

“As sure as my blade.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that dizzies you before you can find his last statement cheesy. When the haze clears, you think of Aoi again, you see Kanao in your mind’s eye watching Tanjiro, butterflies in her hair.

“What about Kanao? She needs you.”

“I need you.”

He kisses you again, and this time you’ve lost all your reservations, perhaps too easily, your arms reaching around his neck to deepen the kiss.  You’ve never needed to tell him you loved him because it was written all over your face. It’s a part you’ve hated about yourself, that no matter how badly you’ve tried to limit your emotions, all comes spilling out through your words and actions. He might have known before you even did, your penchant for devotion spilling into every word you spoke to him, smiles you couldn’t quite temper.

Your friends saw it, Aoi saw it, Kanao saw it, the heavens above must have seen it.

Most importantly, he saw it. 

The tears remain free-flowing, now cathartic. You breathe in his love as he continues to kiss you, your lips, your neck craned, your back now supported by the tree that knows your poorly-kept secret.

“Tanjiro, I love you,” you admit finally, your noses just inches apart, breathless.

“I know,” he whispers. He smiles and kisses your neck. “And I’m so glad.”

[teh-inggris]

rewatched the entire pvp civ series just to see how many times evbo died and how he died

Soo

spoilers

Minecraft but I survive in PVP CIVILIZATION (ep1)

Wanted to also buy the video journal machine but didn't realize he was low on durability so his compulsive purchase quite literally killed him

Minecraft but I LEVEL UP in PVP CIVILIZATION (ep2)

Killed by Tabi

Minecraft but I become the HERO of PVP CIVILIZATION (ep3)

Killed by his guard friend because he purposely didn't pay his daily attack

Died trying to kill someone with a V1 skin

His iron sword broke while he's hitting the armor stand to buy the PvP mansion

Fall damage (1st time descending to level 4 / golden sword level)

Minecraft but I get CAPTURED in PVP CIVILIZATION (ep4)

Fall damage (2nd attempt descending to level 4 / golden sword level)

Died 'a lot of times' trying to descend to level 4.

He also said 'everytime i've jumped so far' before jumping backwards

360 jumped

Killed by Tabi (had to get to the shopping area before the iron sword level)

Fall damage (waterfall hit an invisible barrier and suddenly stopped flowing)

Willingly fell down the entry to lvl 4 because he had to buy more items to test his theory

Fall damage (dropped down with an iron chestplate)

Fall damage ("Well, that was a lot of work for nothing. I'm beginning to think there actually is no way to level 4")

Broke his sword on the armour stand used to pay respect for the chosen one

Killed by Ferre

Minecraft but I become the BEST in PVP CIVILIZATION (ep5)

Killed by the iron sword who speaks pvp

He does say 'everyday so far', implying that he has been killed multiple times off screen by the iron swords and Ferre

He admitted that 'there are times' where he died from fall damage because he didn't land on the chiseled stone brick

Killed by Ferre

Killed by PrinceZam

Killed by Ferre

Killed by an iron sword (this one prolonged his suffering a little)

Hit the wrong armor stand in the 2nd room of the golden sword level

The challenge in the 2nd room is timed, he hit the 1st armor stand but didnt immediately hit the 2nd armor stand

Hit the 1st and 2nd armor stand, waited out to test his theory, died

4th attempt of the 2nd room

"I think I'm on my 52nd attempt or something, I don't know. I think I lost count a while ago."

Failed to land on the next platform after hitting the 1st armor stand in the 4th room (the 2nd trial at the golden sword level)

"So far it's been multiple attempts to say the least. I'm not gonna say the specific number, but all I can is it's uhh it's pretty high."

^ As he says this, he failed to land on the next platform after hitting the 2nd armor stand

Didn't hit the 3rd armor stand fast enough

Fell down from a pillar parkour

Failed to jump on a trapdoor

Failed to water bucket clutch at the 3rd trial

Purposely hit an armor stand at the center of a room in the golden sword level until his sword broke

SO just to make this easier for myself; Evbo's total death count THAT WAS SHOWN ON SCREEN as of ep5 is 32

32!!! Who knows how many times he ACTUALLY died!! (im betting that its close to 100 cough what who said that)

Also pretty unrelated but i noticed that when he's telling his progress to the video journal machine in ep5 (especially during the water bucket clutch) he just sounded so tired of it lmao

Anyway do what you want with this info

And pretty please tell me if i somehow missed a death <33

[musubi-sama]

Thunderbolt and Lightning

An after-dinner walk fulfills one of your hidden fantasies. Where the electricity is both metaphor and diegetic.

“Ready? Did you grab your keys?”

“Yeah, but I’ll leave my phone at home,” you finish slipping on your shoes as you step out your front door being held by Suguru.

In the summer, you enjoyed evening walks around town, walking off the incredible meals you prepared together. Well, mostly Suguru prepared, and you were his doting sous chef. Sometimes stealing a cherry tomato here, or a pinch of freshly grated cheese there.

Tonight, the weather felt heavy, the humidity oppressive and the clouds dark and roiling. But you walked on, arm looped around Suguru’s arm, clutching him close. You could smell the remnants of dinner on him mingling with his earthy cologne. Butter chicken curry, thick and rich. Fresh toasted spices lingering through his midnight-black hair, spread across his back and shoulders.

Admiring the dying hydrangeas lining the path, a signal of the change into the peak of summer. The rainy season is dying, soon you’ll face endless days of brutal humidity and burning sun.

You turn and head towards the river. As the wind picks up, a small gust ruffles the edges of your skirt leading to a brief cheeky peek of your panties. You snap your free hand down to push the fabric snug against your legs. You see Suguru looking further down the path, an almost imperceptible smirk on his lips.

Of course, he enjoyed that brief glimpse. He wanted to slip his hand closer to you, but you reacted just a fraction faster than him.

The soft evening sun is hidden behind a few clouds, the last few shimmering rays smothered by the darkening skies.

A flash in the corner of your eye. You turn your head, expecting to see a camera, but there is no one in sight.

“Did you see something?” Suguru breaks the calm silence between you. Eyes ever soft, inquisitive. He gives your looped arm a gentle squeeze, taut muscles applying gentle pressure to you.

“I just thought I saw a flash. But it was just nothing,” you lean your head on his broad, strong arm and continue walking along. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

Another flash.

This time you’re certain you saw a flash, a crack in the sky.

“That was defin- “

You’re cut off by a faint, but low roll.

“Hmm,” Suguru frowns, looking up at the clouds with scrutiny.

“That was thunder?” you ask rhetorically, secretly wishing for more, you mask your anticipation while looking around the sky.

Suguru feels a few stray heavy drops hit his face and shoulders. Frowning at the inevitable, wishing he’d chosen to wear boots over his cloth tabi shoes.

“Let’s head back. I didn’t bring an umbrella,” Suguru starts on a wide U-turn, but you stop him. Eyes pleading, pulling him back towards the riverbank.

“What’s a little rain? Maybe it’ll feel better once the storm passes. I’m sure it’s just a little summer squall.”

Flashing your husband a wide smile, he buckles to your will, this moment no different than all the others.

More flashes, the coinciding thunderclaps getting louder and closer together.

“One Mississippi, two Mississippi, thr- “ you’re cut off from counting at the next thunder roll comes. “The previous one was five seconds, it’s getting closer!”

Suguru chuckles fondly at your childhood game.

The rain starts to pick up in earnest; warm, heavy, fat drops of rain begin falling and the river gets choppy. The earthy and distinctive scent of petrichor fills your lungs.

Giggling as you run closer towards the sloping floodplain embankment, hand in hand pulling along Suguru, you both fall on the plush and verdant grass to accept your rainy fates.

The rain now fully coming down, wetting your faces, soaking your clothes. Cotton sticking to your skin, hair matted into the grass. Your heart warmed by the weather.

“I have a confession,” you roll onto your side, feeling a squish under your shoulders and hips as they sink into the softening earth.

Suguru raises one eyebrow as he faces you and matches your pose. He rests on his left forearm, slipping his leg across your hip and thigh.

“I love thunderstorms. The angrier, the fiercer, the better. I know some people hate them, but to me, it’s the purest expression of power. Electricity is created and shot through the heavens, the air shouts back with applause. I can’t get enough of it.”

Immediately regretting admitting your excitement over the storm, you start to roll into your stomach, tucking the flush of embarrassment seeping across your face.

“So why aren’t you watching it right now? With a little luck you might see a good bolt of lightning right in front of us!” Suguru pushes his leg fully across as he rolls you onto your back. His arms and legs bracketing you in, you feel a warmth beyond the heavy rain spreading through you.

Something about the electric atmosphere, nature’s booming soundtrack, erased any inhibitions over your next move.

You look up directly into Suguru’s amethyst eyes and see a mirror of the storm raging above you. Another flash of lightning beyond your field of view and before the light is gone, Suguru is biting at your lower lip, slipping his tongue against yours, matching the intensity of the storm.

The ensuing roll of thunder is felt deep in your core, a primal urge pushing you up from the sodden grass. You start to grasp haphazardly at Suguru’s back, trying to find purchase along his soaked back, shirt stuck to his skin.

Finally, you wind a handful of his hair into your hands, slipping along the wet and soft tendrils spreading out. With one snug pull, Suguru whines louder than the storm and his head rears back.

Suguru’s one weakness, coupled with the weather, made him feel like a Van de Graaff generator. Surely if you had let go of his mane, it would stand out in every direction and his head filled with nothing but static electricity.

Snapping back to reality, Suguru in one swift movement grabs your wrists from behind him and pins them with a squish above your head. Your eyes shoot open as you look down Suguru’s face and body, rain splashing across your cheeks.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as another flash illuminates Suguru’s intense features. His eyes are narrowed and focused on you, lips slightly separated, and thanks to the soaking rain and thin pants, an incredibly revealing outline of his full erection.

Suguru rocks against you, dragging as much of his bulge as he can against the thin layers of polyester and cotton from your skirt and panties, making his presence and intent known.

Between the cracks of lightning and rolls of thunder you let out a long whine.

Keeping one hand pinning yours down, he snakes his other hand up under your soaked shirt and reaches into your bra to take your nipple in his fingers. He firmly rolls it between his thumb and pointer as you arch your back into him.

“Look up here and watch the sky,” you look back up just in time for another flash and another harsh pinch on your nipple. Your moans match the thunder in response.

Suguru moves his hand out of your shirt and releases your hands. He sits back on his knees and shucks down his pants just enough, letting his cock spring free with a twitch. In the same moment, another sky-splitting flash of lighting. You release the breath you hadn’t noticed you had held in a breathy gasp.

Leaning down on his forearm, Suguru pulls the edge of your skirt up and rubs his middle finger along your rain-and-arousal-soaked panties, pulling another arch from your back.

“Ah-ahhh! Don’t stop, please, don’t,” you whine, writhing in the sodden grass. The rain is coming down hard, but the cold splatter sets your skin ablaze from the sensations Suguru draws from you.

Pulling your panties to the side, Suguru slips his finger slowly, millimeter by millimeter into your warm, soft pussy. As his finger sinks in and curls upward, his thumb grazes and then pushes on your clit.

“Oh god, right there, right-“

As if on cue, a lightning bolt strikes, and you don’t know if the shock through your cunt was from the storm or Suguru’s touch.

“Fuck!”

Suguru smirks in response as he adds a second finger and slides them out and in lazily, thumb circling with gentle pressure. You grasp again at his shoulders, hands slipping until they find purchase at his tense biceps.

Mind beginning to go blank, filling with electric static, you force your eyes open and see your husbands’ dark eyes looking right through you.

Flash. Boom. Roll.

“Cum for me. Let me hear you louder than the storm.”

The electricity shoots through your bones, your body alternating between writhing pleasure and rigid shocks of ecstasy. You scream out, a garble of expletives and moans drowning out the storm for just a moment. The rain continues to pour down, small rivers sliding down the hill around you.

“I-I-“ you pant, barely coming down from your high as another flash of lighting and roll of thunder overtakes the skies. “I need you, Suguru. I need more.”

“I think this might be the neediest I’ve ever seen you,” a strained edge to his voice, Suguru sits back after nipping a few sharp kisses on your neck.

He quickly unzips his pants, freeing his swollen, heavy cock. He holds the base and gives it a few slow, lazy strokes as he moves to straddle you and align himself with your sensitive core.

Suguru has a wild streak - he practices shibari, occasionally taking a day or two for a full dom/sub scene, and you’ve even discussed attending a sex party together. But public sex, in broad daylight (more-or-less), without any nature to obscure yourselves from people wandering by? He can’t say he had considered it. But as cliche as it is, the air is electric, and he won’t deny that he’s turned on by the thrills.

Giving your needy cunt a few teasing slips as Suguru grip his length at the base before sinking into you in one thrust. His breath catches in his throat. He anticipates the coming sensation, but every time it never fails to make him see flashes - and not just the lightning this time.

As soon as you feel his girth split you open, you bring your knees up, ankles wrapping around Suguru’s thighs as you attempt to accommodate his length fully seated in you. Thankful that he is not moving, however you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from unconsciously holding your breath again.

Another crack of thunder and lightning, and that’s his cue to pull out just until his tip catches at your entrance before he slams back in. Normally one to tease and take his time, Suguru felt the intensity and urgency of the storm. Knowing it would pass before too long, and to reduce the risk of getting caught, he sought to rail you within an inch of your meager sanity quickly.

You can feel his urgency and you start to roll your hips up to meet him. In doing so, the angle of his cock inside of you shifted just so and you can feel the pressure beginning to build. Having already reached your peak once (and especially since this is round two of the day!), your body begins to fill with static much faster now.

The storm has picked up its intensity, joining you both in poetic harmony.

“I can’t-hold on-much longer,” you reach your head up to kiss the need off Suguru’s lips. To swallow his whines as his speed increases and he continues to chase his end. You hold on again as an anchor. You plant your feet firmly on the ground as your body is pressed further into the soft, sodden ground.

And in one last thrust, a blue-white bolt of lightning and immediate, near-deafening crack of thunder hits nearby, obfuscating the moans and cries from your shared orgasms.

Suguru pushes himself firm against your cervix, letting thick ropes of cum splash into you, filling what space there is in your cunt. His head drops into the crook of your neck where he mumbles words of love into your skin. Surely the residuals from this morning have dissipated and he must replace them with new affections.

The rain continues coming down, unsure if your eyes are weepy or the rain running down your cheeks. Your heart is beating almost too fast, now slowly relaxing, matching the pace of Suguru’s breathing above you.

After a moment in the afterglow, Suguru slowly pulls out, eliciting a hiss from him and a groan from you. He quickly slides a hand in to gather up the spilling cum, pushing it back in. You squirm at the welcomed tender touch, letting more soft moans escape your lips.

The rain has now subsided some, a calm gentle rain now softly falling.

“I think we should pay more attention to the forecast next time,” Suguru states, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you sit on your response for a moment. “Or do you mean…?”

Suguru stands up, having re-zipped his pants, and offers his hand down to you. You take it and catch a mischievous glint in his eye.

Once standing, he holds you with your back to his chest, arms crossed your chest, your hands reaching up to grip his forearms. You look up at him, and he leans down to kiss you. And grind his clearly-not-fully-soft dick into your ass. You fight every urge to not push back and grind against him.

“I think we should go home and get out of these clothes, maybe take a bath?” you suggest, knowing it won’t just be a straightforward bath waiting for you.

[mashup-writing]

Power Naps; Donna Beneviento (Resident Lover)

-------------------------------------------------------

Requested? ❌

"Mananatili, sa iyong tabi mag damag."

"To stay, by your side for as long as can be."

Summary: Visiting your girlfriend, Professor!Donna in her office only to find her fast asleep. You try to wake her up, but she turns the tables and has you falling asleep with her on the sofa. It can't be comfortable, but with her trench coat draped over your shoulders you can't find it in yourself to fight the sleepiness off.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Resident Lover Masterlist

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

A sigh leaves your lips as you spare another glance at your watch. You've spent the ast fifteen minutes knocking at the door to Donna's office in intervals but each attempt is greeted with silence. You're never impatient when it comes to your girlfriend, but right now your feet are starting to ache from how you've spent the past fifteen minutes standing outside the door and almost your whole day running around campus to help finalize your club's upcoming event.

You decide to knock once more, giving it another five minutes before you finally knock for the last time and open the door without an invitation- Letting yourself in before immediately shutting the door behind you.

The sight of Donna's office never fails to stop you in your tracks, you haven't been in here a lot but it's stark contrast to how the interior of her house looks like never ceases to surprise you. The walls are bland, and the shelves are empty except for a few volumes of botanical and toxicology texts. A singular file drawer stands behind her seat and the desk is barren except for the tests she's grading, a desk lamp, and a pen holder with a total of three pens in them.

It's said that the way an interior of a personal space is designed can tell you a lot about a person.

You take a moment to wonder why your girlfriend has her walls up so high whenever she's on campus.

You squint for a moment in the dim lighting, and it hits you that maybe your girlfriend wasn't giving you permission to enter her office simply because she wasn't currently in it. You wonder where she could be, you're sure that she's definitely done with her lectures at this hour- And she hasn't gone home yet because she had after all promised that she would drive you back to your dorm today once you were done with your respective responsibilities.

Your questioning thoughts don't cease until after you've looked to your side to find Donna laying on he back on her office sofa, her coat draped over her front- The iconic black trench coat, treated as a makeshift blanket. The sight almost makes you smile, but you take note of how Donna's using the arm rest as a pillow and you frown instead. That's gotta hurt.

You walk over to her side, kneeling on the carpeted floor before you gently brush her bangs away to place a gentle kiss on her forehead and on her scar separately.

"Mahal, wake up. It's almost 7 PM."

Donna's always been a light sleeper, so all it took was a gentle shake to her shoulder for her to start stirring in her slumber. She takes a deep breath before turning her head to face you, a gentle smile taking hold of her lips once her eyes adjust to the dimness of the room and she spots you by her side.

"Hello, Tesoro."

Donna takes your hand in hers and wastes no time in placing a kiss to the back of it. You feel her soft smile slowly shift into a grin when you chuckle at her actions.

"It's time to go home Donna, that couch can't be comfortable at all."

You move your hand to gently rest on her cheek, using your thumb to stroke skin in a gentle sweeping motion. Donna hums, her chest rises with a deep intake of air and her eyes flutter closed again.

"You are correct Tesoro. However, I believe I know of an immediate solution to this issue."

You're unable to get a word out before Donna moves quickly in a flash of black and grey, the next thing you know is that you're lying down on Donna and you're being readjusted so that the two of you can comfortably fit on the couch. A laugh escapes you as your girlfriend peppers your temple and your forehead in kisses.

Struggling against her grip was futile. So you choose to shift until you're comfortable before eventually calming down and just basking in how right it feels to be held in the Botanist's arms.

"We'll regret this when we wake up, I swear-"

Donna laughs without showing her teeth, eyes still remaining closed as if snatching you from the floor and onto the couch with her took no effort at all. She only shushes you before she stats to trace patterns on your back.

"Mia cara flore, that? Is a problem for future us. Right now I simply wish to share the silence and the serenity with you by my immediate side."

She places a lingering kiss to your lips, and you concede to her arguement with a contented hum before pulling away from her and settling down once again. You could never find it in your heart to deny Donna anything she asks for after all.

"A problem for future us. Agreed."

Donna adjusts her coat to cover your frame, the coat now acting as a blanket for the both of you to the best that it can as the ticking of the clock on her office wall lulls you both to sleep eventually.

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

Translations:

Mahal - Literally translates to "Love" formally it is a word for the emotion, but it is also used as a pet name for a significant other.

Mia cara flore - My darling flower

[xxnghtclls]

Permission

Chapter 23

(Chapter 22; Chapter 24)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

A Wish

We’re leaving…going back?

Nervousness spreads in your stomach, although you knew he would take you back to the shrine someday. Sukuna claiming you once again gave you new confidence, which seems to crumble already, just by hearing his words.

“I… don’t have any clothes.” you say quietly, while wading through the water behind him. He eyes you up and down over his shoulder, before he turns back around, climbing out of the water. You follow him and while you’re careful not to slip on some cold, wet stones, you hear fabric being ripped apart.

Looking up, you see Sukuna handing you the piece of the upper part of his kimono. His eyes jump between you and the piece of fabric. Hesitating, you take it, slipping your arms into the huge sleeves, while he puts on the remaining kimono, leaving him bare chested. Half of his robe is enough to cover you to just above your knees, but your skin and also your hair is still dripping wet. The snow is melting, but it is by no means warm. Winter still lays like a blanket upon you.

Both of you start to make your way back to the fireplace. You start to shiver, your lips are trembling, also your legs are still not in good condition after his second claim on you. Stumbling after him, almost tripping over a small rock, he catches you by your arm and keeps holding on to it, steadying you, while you climb and you could swear, that his steps slow down to match your speed. He doesn’t look at you, seems distant but close at the same time.

Arriving at the fireplace, he lights it back up with a swift move of his hand.

“Get your stuff.” he says, as he looks around to gather his dagger. You take the stags fur, wrap it around your shoulders, before you notice your ripped clothes at the tree. Going there, to see what’s left of your kimono. You notice your obi is only ripped apart in the middle, so you quickly decide to take it and you manage to wrap it around your waist with a simple knot to hold Sukuna’s robe in place on your body. The rest of the kimonos fabric, you wrap around your head, hoping it would dry your hair a little. You put on your tabi and geta sandals, as you hear Sukuna coming up.

“Let’s go.” he grumbles next to you. You look up to him, his red orbs are looking right at you. Looking back to the fireplace, you hesitate.

It’s just a dirty place, with a fallen tree and some burning sticks, yet you feel a clump in your throat, feel sad about the fact that you’re just going to leave it behind. This place witnessed a lot. It witnessed emotions, witnessed hate and sadness, love and fun. It witnessed a curse coming to life and two souls learning to live with it.

Sukuna takes your wrist and drags you along, but you can’t help to keep staring back.

Keep staring, until the light of the fireplace vanishes between the dark of the trees.

The place that tied you together once again.

Twigs and snow beneath your feet, rustle and crack, as you make your way through the forest. It’s dark and soon Sukuna puts a piece of wood on fire for you. He doesn’t seem to have troubles in wandering through the darkness, can probably see with only a small source of light, like moonlight.

“Can I ask you something?” you softly ask. No answer. His huge figure walks steadily next to you, looking forward.

”…my King?” you add.

The corners of his lips twitch, as if he has to suppress a grin.

“What is it, princess?”

“Why did we have to move so fast? Couldn’t we have waited until morning?” you look up to him “My hair is still wet, my legs are sore and it’s freezing.” you continue “I’m worried to get sick.”

His bottom eyes look down at you.

“You won’t.” he grumbles.

You sigh, dropping your sight onto the ground in front of you, as you keep walking.

“It’s time we get back soon. I was already patient enough with your behaviour.” he continues calmly.

His words somehow make you smile to yourself.

“Yes… you really were patient.” you acknowledge, as you keep looking forward. “Although you pissed me off…” you continue, making him look into your direction, feeling him almost losing said patience, but your words are faster. “You were really sweet at times.” you blush at your own words, not daring to look at his face for a response.

Silence.

After a pause, you keep going.

“How you looked at me after I hummed your melody, your ruby red eyes looking so soft into mine. Your inability to eat herbs or our dramatic snowfight. How you helped me ease my pain in the dark, how you let me fall asleep on you…” suddenly a lump in your throat. “I’m sorry, my King, I…” you pause, feeling your eyes watering up. “I’m just going to miss this place.” your voice trembling, as you keep looking downward, still feeling his stare on you. Your smile fights with tears and a pain in your heart emerges. You sniff.

He doesn’t answer and you don’t expect him to. A weight hangs in the air, as you take a step to your right, moving closer to him and you notice, that he doesn’t compensate the lost space between you.

So distant, yet so close.

You walk and walk and walk and walk and after what feels like hours of walking, you grow so tired, that you have to fight to keep your eyelids open.

You fail.

With a blind step, you trip over a twig beneath your feet, making your face meet the ground beneath you.

Ouch.

“Oy!” Sukuna’s distant voice rings into your ears, but it doesn’t have the same power, as the grip of a deep slumber. Although your body had a rough impact on the hard and freezing ground, your consciousness is gone quickly, as sleep washes over you.

Warmth and comfort lay upon you like a blanket, as you’re woken up by the chirping of the early birds. Not having your eyes opened yet, you notice that you’re still moving. Or being moved. Your cheek is pressed against something warm and you feel arms beneath your back and legs. Slowly, your eyelids blink open. You see your legs in front of you, being covered with the stags fur, feet dangling in the air. Your hands lay gently below your chin, resting on your chest, the fabric on your hair is gone and just now you notice, how that warmth your cheek is pressed against, is Sukuna‘s chest. His bottom left hand rests on your left shoulder, while your back is supported by his arm. Sukuna’s bottom right hand is resting firmly on your fur covered knee. He’s basically cradling you like a small kitten. This realisation sends a red colour to your cheeks.

“What an unusual way for you to carry me through the woods.” you whisper in a sleepy voice, before you start to trace along his chest with your fingertip. Through the crevice between his pecs, along his collarbone, following his tattoo, down to his nipple. You poke it.

“Are you done?” he grumbles.

“No.” you sigh, your eyes still laying on your fingertip resting on his nipple, before you turn your head slightly, gently biting into the muscle your cheek was pressed against. Sukuna slows down and without letting go, your eyes look up, only to see him staring back at you and your actions. A serious gaze, the line between bloodlust and arousal very thin. A soft, almost not noticeable twitch of his lip betrays him.

Arousal it is.

You let the soft flesh glide through your teeth, before you let go, licking your lips after, averting your gaze from his.

“You taste so good.” you mouth against his skin, before placing a kiss on the same spot. Fingers move up, until your hand wraps around his neck, to pull yourself up, nose nudging against the jewellery of his stretched earlobe.

“Fucked me so good, you need to carry me like you do.” you whisper, before placing gentle kisses and licks below his ear, earning a purr from him.

“You should watch your pretty little mouth and stop talking like that or do you want me to stop right here and fuck you against the next best tree?” he growls quietly, his grip on your shoulder and knee tightens.

“Do you really want me to shut up? I know you enjoy my praise as much as I enjoy yours.” another kiss on his neck “Let me be as sweet to you as you are to me right now.” you whisper.

“Right now? I didn‘t say anything.”

“No, but you‘re carrying me like a husband carries his wife.”

A pause. Sukuna stops walking. You look up to him, his gaze still boring into yours.

“Considering the way you talk lets me assume I also fucked you like a husband fucks his wife.” he hisses.

“No you didn‘t.” you respond. He cocks a questioning eyebrow at you.

“A husband kisses his wife, holds her dearly...” you continue. “Tells her how much he missed her touch and her embrace. When you fucked me, you acted like the King you are supposed to be.”

He smirks, pushes you up, closer to his face.

“Well… who was I acting like behind the waterfall?” he whispers. You pause, noticing you still get nervous when he’s close like this.

“I guess we were both acting like fools.”

He huffs at your words, almost chuckling, while lowering you back down. The impact of your feet on the ground rather rough.

“Time to walk by yourself, princess.” he says, while moving past you, gesturing with his finger to come with him. Sighing, you gather the fur off the ground, wrapping it around your shoulders and start to walk after him. Taking the first step, you notice that walking feels so much easier for you now. The extreme soreness feels gone.

Did he heal me?

You start to toddle after him, notice his dagger being buried into his obi.

Maybe he can still show me…

You wonder what will happen when you’re back in the shrine. How will the others behave? The bitch? He’s been gone for days just to get you back. Just days? It almost feels like weeks, months, years. All of that for just another subordinate. At least that’s what you are to them. You can’t deny that you’re scared. He said that you have to earn the respect for yourself. He won’t be there to rescue you if something happens. At least that’s what you should expect.

You gather some speed, walking as silent as possible and fetch the dagger from his waist with your left hand.

Yes!

Sukuna keeps walking, unfazed by your actions. You feel disappointed, because your silent win probably wasn’t one. He let you fetch the dagger on purpose.

“Don’t cut yourself.” he mumbles.

You walk in silence next to him, lowering your walking speed, before you quickly reach out in a try to cut one of his arms. Before you have the chance to even hit him, he turns to you, slaps your dagger holding hand away and flicks his finger against your forehead in a swift motion, an inhumane energy shooting through you, making you stumble back. You lose control over your hand, the dagger slipping out of your fingers and while you’re stumbling, you try to catch the blade, cutting your right hand in the process. A shallow cut right along your palm. The dagger lands in the snow and you fall on your butt, groaning in disappointment and pain.

“I said to not cut yourself.” he grumbles. You feel dizzy from his finger flick, but you manage to get up fast, licking the blood of your palm. Luckily, the cut is not deep and you figure it should stop bleeding soon. Sukuna watches you with a raised eyebrow. You sigh, looking at your palm.

“You said I have to earn the respect of others by myself. But what if I can’t?” you start. “What if they are stronger than me… and I will perish?” you lick across your palm again, biting your lip after. “I’m scared my King.” you whisper in a shivering voice, barely audible.

Silence.

He walks up to you and takes the dagger from the ground. You look up to him and without him taking his eyes off of you, he swings the blade around in his hand in a quick motion, grabbing the sharp and pointy end between his fingertips, before he reaches back and throws it forward. With a loud sting it buries itself into the tree he aimed it at.

“Now you do it.” he grumbles as he walks to a nearby tree and leans against it, crossing his arms in front of his torso.

“But I -” you mumble.

“Do it! I give you five minutes.”

Adrenaline and some form of happiness push your feet, as you throw the fur off of your shoulders, before you run to the dagger. It sits high, above your head, but low enough for you to grip it. You pull, hard. It’s buried tight into the bark and you can’t move it.

Fuck!

You pull and pull and pull and pull. It won’t move. You grow desperate, kick against the tree.

Anger isn’t the way to go, princess, his words ring through your ear. Taking a deep breath, you try to concentrate your strength and instead of pulling over and over again, you pull at it constantly, with constant strength, even pushing your feet against the tree to get more strength into your grip.

Suddenly Sukuna appears right next to you.

“Two minutes.” he says calmly.

Fuck off.

“You think you can even get it out?” he sneers at you. You don’t answer. He wants to provoke you but you can’t let it happen.

Sukuna places two fingers at your sternum and gently pushes against it. The dagger loosens a bit.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” you hiss, having it almost pulled out. He chuckles, before he leans at your ear.

“No fuck and no touch? What a shame.” he whispers. You breathe deeply, still trying to concentrate, before pushing your feet against the tree another time. This time the blade loosens completely from the bark and you fall back to the ground. Gripping the dagger tightly, you manage to fall and not cut yourself this time. You get up quickly and run back to your previous spot, coughing from the impact. While you run, you remember something.

Sukuna watches you with a smug grin on his face, pitying you, while he leans his side against the tree you just pulled the dagger out of.

“30 seconds.” he grins.

You breathe deeply, trying to focus, positioning yourself. Taking the blade between your left index finger and thumb, you reach out, aiming for the tree, right next to Sukunas face.

I did it once.

“5 seconds…”

“Shut up!” you growl, before turning around and throwing the dagger into the opposite direction. With another sting it buries itself into a tree right behind you. You breathe relieved, smiling to yourself for that little win. Turning around you see Sukuna cocking his eyebrow at you, his gaze slightly impressed.

“HAH HAAAA!” you celebrate, swinging your arms around.

“Did you aim for that?” he scratches his head.

“I chose this tree when I ran back to my spot. The only time I landed my shot when I threw something, was when I threw the snowball at your face.” you point your finger at him, making him sneer his lips at you. “I did the same movements now and it worked!” you cheer while you run to get the dagger. This time its easier for you to get it out, since it was not thrown with the force of the King of Curses.

You run back to Sukuna, picking up the fur on the way, a smile plastered on your face. Panting, you arrive in front of him, while he looks at you seriously, but can’t help to snort at your sight.

“What?” you ask confused, your smile fading.

“You look like a dog trying to play fetch with me.” he chuckles while turning around, continuing on his way back to the shrine. His behaviour makes you pout.

Asshole.

You stumble after him.

I still need to practice, but throwing isn’t enough.

“What about close combat?” you ask after some minutes passed, earning a sigh from Sukuna.

“What about it?” he asks annoyed.

“My defense sucks. You said it yourself before you made a fool out of me while trying to stab you.”

He smacks his lips, before he stops, turning on his heels, leaning down to your eye level, making you stop abruptly in front of his face.

“You truly are annoying sometimes, princess.” he hisses, his eyes glowing. He pokes his index and middle finger into your forehead. “The concentration I saw in you earlier, let it flow through your arms and hands.” he continues, letting his fingers follow his words, scraping his nails across the skin of your wrist and hand, giving you goosebumps. “Merge with your weapon, don’t think and never let your opponent be faster than you. Be calm! Breathe!” he finishes with a rough flick of his fingers between your tits.

His annoyed voice in contrast to his teaching words and touch impress you, arouse you. Your mouth falls open to help you breathe, as your heart starts to beat faster. He eyes you up and down, sniffs once, before his lip twitches. Sukuna huffs at you, before turning back around and continuing his way.

“Thank you, my King. I will keep your words in mind.” you say politely.

You figure, he won’t teach you anything more than that, but what he told you is enough. For now. You’re used to taking and implementing orders, his words already should help you a lot.

While you walk through the woods, you let the dagger in your hand flow through the air, move like milk moves in tea, like seaweed moves in water, like fog moves between trees, never letting go of the hilt of the blade.

Dancing.

You twirl your body, taking steps backwards, forwards, sideways.

Step. Step. Step.

Breathe.

Sometimes you cut along a tree, let the blade roughly run against the bark to feel the vibrations in your hand.

Calm.

Become one with your weapon.

Sometimes you catch Sukuna watching you with his bottom pair of eyes, but you ignore him.

Darkness falls upon you once again, as you finally arrive at the clearing where Sukuna saved you from the curses. The moonlight shines bright, although it isn’t a late hour.

You’re close.

While dancing and walking in the middle of the clearing, something sparkles in the corner of your eye. You look up, only to see a shooting star run across the night sky.

“Quick! Look!” you reach your finger up into the sky. Sukuna looks at you first in confusion, before his eyes follow your finger, looking up in the sky, too. He stops and watches light of the shooting star fading away. You close your eyes and raise your right hand to your heart.

Please don’t let anyone or anything take him away from me.

“What are you doing?” he asks you in a grumpy tone.

“Nothing.” you lie. “Do you ever watch the night sky?”

He eyes you suspiciously, before looking up again.

“Sometimes.”

You walk up to him until you’re standing right next to him. Close. Looking up into the sky, you remember the time you spent with him. Your heart stings and you grow nervous. Feeling his being, his warmth and body standing right next to you, it gives you so much comfort, makes you feel safe. He did a lot to break you, but also a lot to mend you. Forgiveness crawled into your heart already a while ago. Your breathing increases, as your heart starts racing in your throat. Your gaze falls to your right hand, before you let your fingers crawl into his upper left hand. Feeling your touch, his gaze shoots back down to you, his eyes alert, his hand tensing up.

“I… ” you start, feeling the skin of his hand with your fingertips.

Your mind is screaming. Screaming at you to say it and to not say it at the same time. You ponder, while his gaze is boring into your head. You look up to him.

“I…” you start again. His brow tightens in confusion, as your eyes scream into his, searching for words.

He won’t understand!, you tell yourself another time, but some part of you wants him to know, in the hope that he will just leave with you, leave that shrine behind.

Your mind short circuits.

I love you.

“I’m yours.” you whisper instead. He squints his eyes at you, almost as if he knows you wanted to say something different.

How different is this truth from the other, though?

You throw him a sad smile, before you kiss his hand and let it go. He doesn’t say anything, only watches you move forward into the direction of the shrine, before he starts to follow you.

Gigantic, curved spikes protrude on the roof. The form of a huge opened mouth sitting under the ceiling of the shrine, big teeth standing out. In the middle of it, a big, heavy wooden door. Bones and skulls of cattle and bulls laying around in bulk at the corner pillars of the shrine.

Nothing changed. It’s still as scary as the first time you’ve seen it months ago. Both of you stand next to each other in front of the door, waiting. Your heart is racing from nervousness, hoping that nobody in the shrine will see you like this, half naked, wearing nothing but his kimono and a fur.

Suddenly the door opens, making you tightening the grip on the dagger.

Uraume pokes their head out, being illuminated by a candle.

“I’ve been waiting for your return, Master Sukuna.” they politely say, while bowing their head.

“and y/n.”

[homestuckfuckass]

i somehow fucked up and didnt get to picture the whole thing but i decided in class i wanted to draw a tabi design so here ya go (imagine the blue was red i didnt have a red marker at the time)

i like to think that she started out lookin like her mc skin but over time she realizd stuff like long hair gets in the way when fighting so she used up a swing to cut it (probably in the iron level for a bit) and to make up for the decrease in style points for cutting her hair she pierced her ears and wore earrings (dont ask where she got them from) anyway yeah ill prolly recreate the whole thing soon digitally

[moonsgemini]

seeking arrangements- iii

summary: Jealousy is an ugly color on everyone except for Thomas. As Lola and Rafe spend more time together the more they feel like it’s becoming too real, and the boat rides and cocktail parties don’t help.

warnings: escort!rafe x oc, fem reader, shitty family, kissing, alcohol, bad descriptions of a yacht, fluff, mentions of cheating

wc: 4.7k

an: ahhhh we’re getting into the more fun stuff, I hope you all are enjoying <3 there’s about 3 more parts left if I’ve planned correctly. Honestly this part was hard for me to write, but I did it. Also I don’t know shit about boats okay so don’t come for me.

series masterlist - previous part

“Uh Rafe?” Lola called from the bathroom. She was finishing getting ready for their boat day.

“Yeah?” He called from the room as he placed his hat on his head.

“Can you help tie my bikini please?” She asked with slightly pink cheeks.

They had spent the night together, Lola insisting on creating a pillow wall. But when they woke up the pillow wall was gone and Lola’s legs were tangled with Rafe’s. She had woken up before him so she quickly untwisted herself from him.

He walked into the bathroom and she had her back to him. The strings of the floral bikini hanging behind her as she held the front up. He cleared his throat and began tying the strings. His fingers brushing against her soft skin making them burn.

“All done.”

“Thankyou,” She said softly turning around to face him. She lifted the straps of her overalls to clip them to the front.

“You ready for today?” Rafe asked her as he leaned against the sink.

She shrugged, “I guess so. Being trapped on a boat in the middle of the ocean with all these people that think I’m a loser? so ready.”

“I don’t think you’re a loser, and I’ll make sure they know you’re not a loser.” He smiled.

“Thanks Rafe, are you ready to go?” She asked.

“Mhmm I even packed the bag like you asked,” He walked into the room motioning to the trader joes bag she had instructed him to fill with sunscreen her sunglasses and other essentials.

She laughed, “What a good listener, so we’re meeting everyone at the dock. Is it okay if Tabitha rides with us?”

“Yeah of course. I think she might also be the one person I like here.”

Lola laughed and grabbed the bag before walking out the door. Rafe couldn’t help but think she looked so cute in her overalls. He had to admit he was looking forward to making Thomas jealous.

“Tabi, are you ready?” Lola called as they walked down the hall.

Tabitha opened the door to her room all dressed and ready to go, “Of course I’ve just been waiting for you two love birds. I know the morning is the most sensual time of day so I didn’t want to rush you,” she winked.

Rafe chuckled following the women. Lola rolled her eyes and blushed, “Please we’re at my parents house.”

“So? That’s never stopped anyone.” She laughed. They walked out to Rafe’s car where he placed their bags in the trunk. He placed his sunglasses over his eyes as he got into the car.

“Very nice car Rafe,” Tabitha commented from the back seat, “So what do you do?” Lola couldn’t help but feel nervous now. Last night when they went back out withe everyone they were all a bit tipsy so no one gave him the third degree. She had also excused them from the night early, she had felt too overwhelmed with everyone and needed time to decompress. So when her and Rafe went back to the room they just watched Pitch Perfect together.

“Thanks, I have a real estate developing company in North Carolina.” He said as he backed out of the drive way. Lola giving him directions towards the dock.

“Wow that’s fancy. But you live in New York? How did you guys meet?” She asked leaning forward to look between them.

“Yeah I go back and forth a lot. It’s a family company,” He looked over at Lola, “we met at a bar in Manhattan. I saw Lola and couldn’t leave without talking to her, she caught my eye from across the room.” He smiled thinking of a memory that didn’t exist. At least that’s what Lola thought but he was thinking of the first time he met her. She looked like a lost puppy and he couldn’t help the attraction he felt towards her then. If she was just a girl at a bar he definitely would have gone up to her.

“You’re love story is so cute, Lola you have to tell me more later. In private,” she winked at her cousin.

“Tabi you’re insnae,” Lola laughed.

-

Rafe had his arm wrapped around Lola as they sat on the boat, Harry drove the boat out into the ocean more looking for a good place to anchor. Ever since they had met up with everyone Thomas hadn’t stopped eyeing Lola and Rafe. He watched as Rafe held Lola’s hand helping her onto the boat. Even now whenever he glanced at them it was with a hateful stare. Lola leaned into Rafe, she felt relaxed.

The sun felt good on her skin she closed her eyes resting her head on his shoulder, it was the perfect day. That was until her sister plopped down next to them, reminding her that it wasn’t just her and Rafe here.

“You guys have to tell me everything,” Penny exclaimed facing the couple, “How’d you meet? How long have you been dating?” Rafe placed his hand in between Lola’s shoulder and neck giving her a comforting squeeze.

“We met at a bar, Lucy’s. Rafe came up to me and we just hit it off. We went on a few dates and well here we are. We’ve been seeing each other for almost uh five months now?” Lola said almost like she was asking.

“Mhmm yeah babe five months,” Rafe iterated.

“How come you’ve kept him away from us sis?” Penny asked, almost in a condescending way.

Lola shrugged, “I guess I just wanted him all to myself.”

“I don’t blame you,” Penny glanced at Rafe with a mischievous look in her eyes to which he just grabbed Lola’s thigh with his other hand and placed her legs over his.

“Who wants drinks!” Harry shouted as he finally stopped the boat.

“Me!” Penny yelled and ran towards the coolers to hand them out. Rafe took a beer and Lola settled for a seltzer.

“Are you good?” Rafe asked her.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Of course, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” He smiled leaning closer, “Also he’s been glaring at us since we got here.”

Lola smirked, “Good. I hope he feels even just slightly as bad as he made me feel when I caught him.”

“Can I do something?” Rafe asked, his hand on her shoulder rubbing soothing circles.

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?” He looked down at her lips that looked so inviting, “To make it look real of course.”

Lola felt her whole body tingle at his question. Rafe was so different from Thomas, which was the last guy that she was with, and he made her feel things in the last 48 hours that Thomas never could in the two years they were together. She wanted him to kiss her whenever he pleased. Lola had to remind herself that this wasn’t real, but for now she would enjoy it. She would enjoy the feeling of being wanted even if she thought it was all an act.

“Yes please,” she murmured. Rafe could have died then and there just at her response.

He grabbed her chin gently and brought her face closer to his. Their lips brushing against each other with hesitancy at first but then Rafe leaned forward more pressing his lips firmly against hers. They were soft and she tasted like cherry’s. Her sticky lipgloss getting all over his mouth but he couldn’t care less. The way he held her made her want to melt. His lips were so soft and full, it felt so natural with him the way their lips moved against each other.

“Ugh get a room you two!” Penny shouted throwing a bag of chips at the couple. They pulled a part remembering where they were. Lola rolled her eyes and threw the bag back, Penny just laughed.

Harry walked over and stood in front of the pair, “Dude let me give you a tour of the boat,” he said to Rafe.

“Uh sure man,” He turned to Lola, “I’ll be back baby.”

The two guys walked towards the inside where the wheel was, the other guys following suit. When they were gone all the girls came flocking over to Lola.

Tabitha sat next to her, “Tell us babe how is he in bed? I can’t believe he’s so sexy.”

Lola blushed, “Tabi! You guys are insane.”

“Come on Lola, you have like the hottest boyfriend you need to tell us everything,” Riley the other bridesmaid said.

Lola knew she was going to have to make up stuff because they were like vultures who needed to be fed, “It’s really good. He’s really good. He knows what to do, like I don’t have to tell him what I need or like he just knows. And he makes me feel so comfortable.”

“God that sounds like a dream,” Olivia sighed, “I bet you don’t even have to ask him to go down on you?”

Lola shook her head, “Never. It’s his favorite thing to do.” At this point she was just saying things to impress them, but she had a feeling that if she did have a chance to sleep with him he would be exactly how she described.

“And he makes you finish?” Tabitha asked almost on the edge of her seat.

“Always more than once,” She smirked.

Tabitha sat back dramatically, “You have the perfect man. I’m jealous.”

“Thomas is sooo jealous. He’s been asking me so many questions since last night,” Penny smirked. At least Lola’s plan was working.

Riley rolled her eyes, “Good, he cheated on you right? So he has no right to be jealous.”

“Exactly. But the revenge must feel good huh?” Tabitha asked.

Lola shrugged, “I guess so. I haven’t paid much attention to him. Especially not when I have Rafe with me,” she wasn’t fully lying. She did forget that he existed for a second until Rafe brought it up.

“Does Rafe have any hot friends you guys can introduce me to?” Tabitha said sighing.

Lola laughed, “Probably. I haven’t met many of his friends.”

-

In the cockpit where all the guys had congregated they were also giving Rafe the third degree. Not about Lola but just about himself since they didn’t know him.

“So Rafe where you from?” Harry asked as they all sat around in different areas of the cockpit. Rafe knew that he was about to be grilled by the games, and he was more than happy to answer their questions. Especially Thomas’.

“North Carolina, the outer banks,” He took a sip of his beer.

He nodded his head, “What are you doing in New York?”

“I wanted to get away from home and from here I’m still able to run the business,” He shrugged.

“Dude so you’re like rich?” Mateo said with a smirk.

Rafe laughed, “Uh not having a house and a yacht in the Hampton’s rich.”

Thomas cleared his throat, “So what’s up with you and Lola?” He asked completely changing the subject.

Rafe’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Well like are you guys serious?” Thomas rolled his eyes as if it was an obvious question.

“I guess we are, I mean we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now. She’s great, I really like her so I hope it’s something serious,” The words were so easy for him to say because part of him wished they were true.

“She seems happy with you man. Every time Lola’s come around us she always seemed so like depressed and super fidgety. She seems relaxed. So whatever you’re doing dude keep doing it,” Harry laughed. He cared about Lola, she was about to be his sister in law. But he cared about her like a sister and when Thomas cheated on her he was angry but not angry enough to drop him.

Thomas scoffed, “Please dude she seems miserable. I bet she hasn’t even put out yet. It took like weeks for her to even touch my dick. You know we dated right?”

Rafe stood up straighter, “She did mention there’d be some prick who cheated on her here, just didn’t think she went low enough to date you. Also I respect what Lola wants to do, I don’t force her to touch my dick like a horny teenager.”

“Okay guys,” Mateo began to speak before he was interrupted by Thomas.

“She just wasn’t good in bed, I had urges. What am I supposed to do just be unsatisfied.”

Rafe laughed bitterly, “That’s funny because I remember her telling me that you were the worst and smallest dick she’s ever had,” he took a step closer to the shorter man, “she doesn’t even remember her own name when I’m fucking her brains out. I bet you couldn’t ever make her finish huh? Now never talk about my girlfriend that way again or we’ll actually have problems. If you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go check on my girlfriend.” Rafe walked out not wanting to be a part of the sausage fest anymore.

As he walked back out onto the deck he saw Lola laying out on the chairs, she had taken her overalls off to soak up the sun. He smiled to himself as he watched her nod her head along to the music. The other girls were also laying around getting a tan. He stood over her creating a shadow.

She opened her eyes squinting at his tall figure, “Hey, everything good?”

He nodded, “Perfect.” He couldn’t help his wandering eyes as they took her in. The bikini she picked looked good against her skin and it left little to the imagination. He was so attracted to her he couldn’t deny it anymore, especially now looking at her half naked he just wanted to touch her.

“Wanna go for a swim? I’ve been waiting for you,” She smiled taking the last sip of her second drink now.

“That sounds great actually it’s hot as fuck,” He set his drink down on the floor to take his shirt off. He threw it onto the end of the chair along with his sunglasses. Lola just about melted then and there. She could tell he definitely worked out, his arms were so muscular she wanted nothing more than to be tossed around by him. This is definitely the drinks talking, she thought.

Rafe held his hand out to her and she took it gladly. She felt like he was too good at this boyfriend act, it was making her feel things she shouldn’t. Especially for someone she paid to pretend to like her. They walked to the edge of the boat hand in hand.

“Ready?” He asked with a smirk. She nodded her head mimicking his smirk. They jumped into the ocean hand in hand. The cool water feeling good against her skin after being in the sun.

Once they surfaced she started laughing, “God I haven’t had this much fun here in so long.”

Rafe brushed his wet hair back swimming towards her, “Good. You deserve to have fun.”

“So uh how was it with Thomas?” She asked a bit hesitant.

Rafe shrugged, “He’s a fucking prick that’s forsure. Nothing I can’t handle tho,” he smirked.

“We’re coming!” Tabitha yelled from the boat as they began also jumping into the ocean. Lola laughed and swam closer to Rafe wrapping her arms around his neck. He grabbed the backs of her thighs to wrap her legs around his waist. Lola’s skin felt like it was on fire despite being in the water.

“God this feels so good!” Tabitha exclaimed as she resurfaced joining the couple.

Olivia smiled swimming up to the group, “Remember that summer we got stranded out here because we ran out of gas and went skinny dipping.”

“Oh god,” Lola mumbled, “We were like 20 and then when the coast guard showed up we were all naked in the ocean.”

Rafe laughed, “There’s still a lot I don’t know about you huh?”

“Oh so much, she used to be a bit of a firecracker,” Tabitha said.

-

After a few more dives into the ocean and a few more drinks Lola and Rafe were back on the chair soaking up the sun before they had to head back and get ready for the late engagement party. Rafe was sitting in the chair and Lola was sitting in between his legs, her back resting against his chest. It was to make sure they looked like a real couple. It was all part of the plan, at least that’s what they said. Rafe may have been enjoying the feeling of her skin on his a little too much. Lola may have been enjoying the way Rafe’s arm wrapped around her chest and played with her hair a little too much.

She felt so comfortable around him. The voice in the back of her head telling her this was all going to end in a few days was getting quieter to let her enjoy these moments she had with him. Soon she’d be alone again, just her and Sailor in her apartment and Rafe would be a fond memory. The thought alone made her squeeze his thigh gently to remind herself she’s there now with him and to enjoy it.

Thomas had been glaring at them the whole afternoon. It made her happy to know he was bothered by them. The group had just been sitting around and exchanging stories, a few games on uno had been played as well. Lola felt so content, it was the first time in a few years she liked being with this group of people. She felt like herself again.

“Babe our song!” Tabitha exclaimed as everywhere by fleetwood mac came on the speakers.

Lola’s eyes lit up. She turned to Rafe, “On spring break a few years ago we were in Greece and this song came on at the club and it was the best night ever!”

She got up and joined Tabitha as they started dancing to the song. Singing along to the words, Rafe watched with curious eyes. A grin spreading across his lips. The other girls getting up and joining them as they started singing to the chorus. The drinks she had that day had definitely made Lola a lot bolder than she’d usually be. As Lola danced with Tabitha she tilted her head back laughing. Rafe took a mental picture wanting to remember her like that forever. He had a feeling in his gut that Lola couldn’t just be a temporary fixture in his life. Not after the way she’s made him feel.

She ran towards Rafe grabbing his hands and pulling him up to dance with her. He gladly obliged, the other guys joining as well. When she sang the lyrics to Rafe as if she truly meant them, and she kind of did. She wanted to be with him everywhere. As they danced together the world around them faded and it was just them to, he spun her around and she giggled furiously. The song ended and they all cheered and clapped.

“You guys are the best bridal party a girl could have!” Penny exclaimed with teary eyes, she definitely had too much to drink.

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder and he kissed her cheek, “I think it’s time we head back.”

They headed back to the benches to be safer. Lola rested against Rafe’s chest as his arm wrapped around her. She felt a bold so she leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“You’re the best Rafey,” She smiled at him.

Rafe smiled, he couldn’t help himself. The nickname she had given him made his chest turn a light shade of pink. He cupped her face and brought her up for a kiss. It felt just as good as the first one. Lola sighed as they moved against each other, only pulling away because she remembered there were other people around. She would kiss him all day if she could.

-

Once they got back to the house they had taken and showers and began getting ready for the cocktail party. The bride and groom decided to have a late engagement party so that everyone could attend and it’d add to the wedding week festivities. Lola felt like she was on cloud nine and it was all because of the man laying on her bed scrolling on his phone.

“Rafe, can I ask you something?” She asked from the bathroom as she applied her makeup.

“What’s up?”

“Can you tell me more about yourself?” She asked with a hopeful voice. She really wanted to know more about him.

Rafe smiled to himself and got up to walk into the bathroom. She watched as he put the toilet seat lid down and sat down watching her do her eyebrows, “What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” She shrugged.

“Well I’ve told you the truth. I have two sisters, I’m from North Carolina, and that developing company is actually my other job.”

She nodded her hair, “What about your parents? Your childhood?”

He looked away finding the towel rack more interesting, “Uh my mom she died when I was 10. My dad’s very much a hard ass. We don’t really have a relationship other than a business one. In my late teens I didn’t really have a relationship with my sisters. Especially Sarah, she’s a few years younger than me.”

Lola looked over at him with curiosity, “Why’s that?”

“I did a lot of um dumb stuff,” he cleared his throat, “I got mixed up with the wrong people and made terrible choices. I treated the people around me like shit. But I cleaned up my act after my freshman year of college. I got sober and I started going to therapy.”

“Wow Rafe, that’s really good. You should be proud of yourself.” She said looking over at him with a warm smile.

He smiled back, “Yeah I’ve come a long way. I’ve burned some bridges that I can’t fix but I don’t dwell on it anymore. I just focus on what I have now. Sarah and I are close now. Same with my other sister Wheezie. I go back home every couple of weeks to see them and have meetings with my dad.” He didn’t really know why he was telling her this. Rafe felt like he could actually open up to her and feel vulnerable. He’s never told anyone this much before, let alone someone that was supposed to be a client.

“Why do you still this other job on the side?” She asked a bit hesitant.

He thought for a second, why did he do this? “I guess I like helping people not feel alone like I felt for a long time. Even if it’s just for one night for a stupid christmas party or something like that. I guess I like feeling needed.”

Lola smiled, “You’re too good to be true. You’re very selfless Rafe. That’s a hard quality to find, especially in a guy.”

He chuckled, “I’m not perfect, I just hide my flaws better. But I’m working on it.”

“And that’s what counts.”

There was a moment of silence as Lola applied blush before she paused not looking over at him, “Rafe, can we still be friends after this?” She asked softly. Afraid if she used her real voice she’d be too loud and scare him away. Lola didn’t want to lose Rafe even if it meant just having him as a friend.

His heart was beating loudly in his chest. She was so extraordinary to him, how could she want to be friends with him after he just told her that he used to be a wreck. Rafe felt like a ticking time bomb, at any minute he could become the old Rafe again. But when he was with her it felt like that Rafe was completely gone, “Of course sweetheart.” That nickname he first called her made her insides stir with something sickly sweet.

-

They had arrived at the restaurant that the party was being held at, already filled with friends and family. Rafe had been introduced to a a handful of people now. He couldn’t focus on anything other than Lola in the dress she was wearing. It was tight in all the right places, he felt like she outshined everyone in the room. Her makeup looked flawless and her hair just as perfect. He wanted to ruin it all, kiss her until her makeup was all over the place and her lips were swollen. Run his hands through her hair messing up the perfect strands.

He was leaning against the bar drinking his vodka soda as Lola talked amongst her mom and some of her mom’s friends. He watched making sure she didn’t need him to come in and save her from painful conversation. Tabitha came up and ordered herself a drink, before turning to him. She watched him watch her cousin with that look in his eyes.

“She’s been through a lot,” She said speaking up, “She’s not the same Lola that I used to know.”

Rafe looked over at her, “How so?”

“The last few months she was with Thomas she started changing. It was partly because he had become distant but it was also because her mom and her had a huge fight about her mom’s drinking.” She scoffed as she looked towards her aunt, “Clearly nothing has changed. But it was because her mom got hammered at Christmas and she made out with Thomas who was also hammered. They probably would have had sex if she hadn’t walked in on them.” Tabitha rolled her eyes.

“What the fuck? She never told me that.” Rafe said with furrowed brows, he wasn’t upset at Lola but upset at how everyone just walked all over her.

“It’s not something she talked about. She doesn’t come around as much anymore since then because after that incident she started getting suspicious but brushed it off. Then clearly she gets proven wrong when she walks in on him again. I hate that little fucker,” Tabitha seethed, “Lola shut down. She already didn’t have many friends and she lost the ones she did have. She kept to herself and her light dimmed. I haven’t seen her so carefree and full of life like this is so long. You’re really good for her.” She put a hand on his arm and smiled genuinely at him.

Rafe gave her a lopsided grin, “I’m trying my best for her. She deserves to be happy, I think she’s helping me more than I’m helping her though.”

“She has that effect on people. She has a good heart, maybe too good sometimes.”

He looked over at her just as Lola looked at him with a tight lipped smile and pleading eyes, “That’s my queue to save her.” He excused himself from Tabitha as she jokingly saluted him.

He walked up to the group of women and wrapped his arm around Lola’s waist, “Excuse me ladies would you mind if I steal my beautiful girlfriend away?” He gave them a charming smile.

“Speaking of there he is! Isn’t he just so handsome,” Lola’s mom said speaking to the other women. Completely ignoring Rafe.

“You are one very lucky lady Lola,” One of the woman said to her while winking.

Lola laughed awkwardly not really sure what to say but Rafe saved her, “Oh I think I’m the lucky one. Lola truly is something special.

Her mom hummed, “I guess so sweetie, she’s always been a bit unique.” The comment came more as condescending than a compliment.

“Lola actually rejected me the first time I asked her out but I couldn’t give up on her. Women as beautiful, smart, kind, and extraordinary like her don’t come around much.” He gave her waist a gentle squeeze. Lola wanted to die then and there because he was actually a dream come true.

“We’re going to go get a drink,” Lola smiled before dragging Rafe away. Once they were farther away she burst into a fit of giggles.

Rafe smiled widely, “What are you laughing about?”

She smiled up at him, “Like I said, you’re too good to be true.”

“I just sleak the truth,” He shrugged, “and I’m not gonna let anyone subtly bash my girl.”

My girl. Lola was so screwed. She was in deep deep shit because that warm tingly feeling in her stomach was starting to feel a lot like love.

-

tags: @rosal1nd @magicwithaknife , @f4ll-for-you , @hotch-meeeeeuppppp , @loveu-always

(if you'd like to be removed or tagged let me know!)

[takami-rising]

tempore pluvarium: part i ☀︎

tempore pluvarium

➳ at the time of the rains

character: rengoku kyojuro x reader notes: aah so this is my first proper fic, i poured my heart soul into this i really hope you'll like it!! part ii is in the works, i promise it will have more plot genre: fluff with sugar on top and a speck of angst warnings: canon typical violence, but nothing too graphic ambience: rain (yt) | music (spotify) (play simultaneously for the ultimate reading experience) preview: You’re beautiful. He’s always thought so, that you belong there, amongst blossoming trees and their dew dropped leaves, harmonizing with the gentle breeze. The rising sun tries to compete with the tranquil your presence brings, but ultimately it fails.

Rain pours horribly that afternoon when Kyojuro finds you scurrying down the main street, geta grinding against soaked gravel, dirt staining the pristine white of your tabi. The sight is quite endearing, so out of your perceived character to have put yourself in this rather reckless predicament. A side of you he has not witnessed much of. The downpour is unforgiving, your lovely silk komon sure to be ruined at this rate, no matter how the magenta lilac littered across the fabric seem to bloom in color by the skies' gift.

You nearly trip and fall when the wet drops no longer stain your skin with their awful cold and you look up to find the man smiling down at you from under his haori held high. His eyes flicker like fires in the night, even in this dreadful weather, the orange glow showering you with an illusion of warmth. Or perhaps this sensation is merely an afterthought of how your pulse suddenly gallops.

Still, you utter his name with thankful relief. "Rengoku-san..."

The aroma of cedar embar mix with the fresh air is near intoxicating as you settle in by his side, transports you to another time and place, empties your mind of worries that weigh heavy. You nearly forget about the medicinal herb that had willed you into town before anything else, a soft pat to your erireassuring that it is indeed tucked neatly between the folded fabrics.

Your poor father had awoken in a terrible pain, clinging to his missing leg as if it were still there. How awful it is to relive the day of his accident, too young to have understood back then that all you could do was cry when he returned home without the lower limb. It never did heal how it was supposed to despite the doctor's efforts and now he suffers daily. Humid days are always the worst. A run to town was the least you could do to not feel as helpless as that night.

Kyojuro laughs a little when you call yourself foolish for trying to outrun the rain without an umbrella, especially when the skies have been idling all day, but quickly draws attention to the fact that he had tried to beat the very same disadvantageous odds. The world stops when a soft snicker sneaks past your lips as well, delicate hand lifting to hide the extent of your grin.

He hears you sing sometimes in the woods, soft melodies that lifts through the air like bird’s song while your little sister skips at your side. There’s a small basket on your arm, your fingertips hovering, searching for fruit and vegetables to pick. You’re beautiful. He has always thought so, that you belong there, amongst blossoming trees and their dew dropped leaves, harmonizing with the gentle breeze. The rising sun tries to compete with the tranquil your presence brings, but ultimately it fails.

His heart hammers against his chest like it wants to break free.

Your eyes glance up and meet his for a fleeting moment before darting past him. You do hope his haori is not ruined.

The roads always start to look the same after a short while. It becomes so easy to get lost in your surroundings, leaves that flutter by, imitating butterflies as they ride the wind in a playful chase for one another. You invite the blonde to stay for tea once you pass the threshold to your father's estate, insist on it, at least until the rain subsides. Kyojuro escorts you to the door, doesn't lower his arms before you are safe from the drops on the engawa. You will not have it on your conscience lest he falls ill, but he is quick to decline, insists that the rain does little to bother him and he does not wish to impose. In truth, he is not entirely convinced his heart can spend another moment at your side without bursting.

You offer him an umbrella, your brother's, you can only roll your eyes at the thought of how he will inevitably chew you out later, but the gesture is justified. Kyojuro is a gentleman and you are certain he would have provided any other with the same kindness he has shown you with no thought for reciprocation. It feels only fair in your heart that his act of chilvalry is rewarded. You stand firm before he can express his gratitude, that he may return the umbrella once he invited back for dinner. You will send a letter.

He bows before taking his leave. “I shall await it with idle.”

Every meal can be appreciated once you have faced death on an empty stomach. When you've walked endless miles as your limbs quiver from a hunger that's wrenching its way through your guts like acid. It alters your heartbeat, makes you want to drop on your knees to shove dirt down your throat, just to fill your stomach with something. Kyojuro treats every meal like it may be his last; he never knows when it might be. You haved prepared his dinner this evening with such careful love he soars from the very first bite. An ecstasy that spreads throughout his body, seeps into his bones and fills him to the brim with a symphony of flavors. Words don't come easy, but your eyes gleam so wonderfully as you offer him yet another taste. They're like fireflies, your eyes, vibrating.

Your mother finds him... eccentric. But he is kind and honorable. His laugh is loud from the depths of his belly, yet patience shines through when your baby sister becomes enamored by the vermillion in his hair. It's like flames, she exlcaims and simply must how him the kanzashi pin she owns in the very same shade. He tells a tale of a fire wielding prince, travelling the world for his father's accept to one day rule the kingdom, with dragons and spiritual beings, but only once the prince looks inside himself will he find what he is truly looking for. Your sister eats it up with wide eyes. Kyojuro treats your family like equals despite the debt you owe his and he looks at you with such rapid falling adoration, your mother can only have nothing to object when you return his gaze.

Your encounters with Kyojuro are frequent, they always have been. He appears in uniform and over the years, it became rarer to see him out of it. Black, darkness smothers it, seams that have been ripped apart and stitched back together. You do not recognize the fabric, but it is clear that it has been recycled and repurposed time and time again. The texture is rough the time your hand brushes by his wrist, heavy against his broad frame, unlike anything you have come across in the shops. You've searched in quiet curiosity, cannot quite fathom what work could require such an attire, but the burden must be so heavy, lonely. Yet, you do not ask about the scars that paint his complexion nor the time he returned through town with a broken arm. You do not need to question the hardened skin as your fingertips trace lines in his palms to know that he sacrifices a part of himself that can never be regained.

He escorts you along the riverbank when you go to retrieve water, breath stuck in his throat as your arm curl under his, your form pressed to his side. It slows his steps to an amble walk in the hopes that you'll follow his attempt to savor each other for just that of a while longer. Sometimes your index finger draws absent patterns into his bicep while you comment how busy the water seem this morning. Perhaps it's eager to bathe in the lasting colors of the sunrise.

He misses your warmth when you stop to kneel by the stream, gazing at the cloud's reflection in the river. You declare it a crime to disturb such a scenic picture. Natural and untouched by man and here you are trying to take a piece of it home. A guilty part of you quietly wishes you could do so.

"I would hang it by my bed, I think," you muse.

The tasuki sash keeps your sleeves locked as you dip the wooden bucket in the river, hands still careful not to dirty too much of your kimono. Your face drops, almost disappointed that sky isn't painted in the liquid water anymore.

Your voice bears trace of melancholy. "But I suppose there would not be much reason to come here other than drudgery could I look at it every day without effort."

Sparrows gather curiously, skittish at first but a hop in their step once your chore has been put aside. They almost welcome your company. Kyojuro finds himself near convinced that you may very well be the reincarnation of a spirit in this forest until you reach into your sleeve and retrieve a small pouch of sunflower seeds to empty in your palm. The tiny birds are simply acclimated to your song and the soft, carefree giggles that break up your melody. He joins you on his knees and you take his open palm, gently like he's sculpted from the finest porcelain money could buy, to drop the remaining seeds. You take great joy in watching the skittish chicks peck at his hands with caution. He captures the height of your smile, your touch imprinted on his wrist, engraving your very presence onto himself. The birds twitter and chirp.

"They think you are kind," he says.

You cannot help the airy laugh that leaves your lips. "I'm sure they do."

Kyojuro allows himself the silent pleasure of resting his hand upon yours the way back to your estate, fingertips lingering before you slide from his side. He's not sure you even realize, but it's enough to keep the fluttering in the pit of his stomach all the way home.

There are days where he pulls himself away from you, from the world. Blood stains his uniform on those days. Your gaze longs for him but he keeps his eyes locked to the sky, talks heartily of the clouds and their shapes, muses on the stories they tell. If you did not know him any better you would think nothing wrong. But his voice is thick in his throat, swallows like shards of glass that tear his vocal cords apart. He does not even attempt to reach for the lunch wrapped in your furoshiki, fingers restless against the blanket he so politely unfolded for the both of you on the grass. He remains court and genteel as ever, but even his voice wavers when his thoughts can't seem to keep up, catches him off guard as he apologizes for fumbling his words.

You utter his given name for the first time then. It slips out unconsciously the way you've chanted it in your head so many times. Dripping with a love that scours every crevice of his soul for an opening to pour it into. It beckons him within your embrace, eyes wet and glossy as he searches for your touch, presses himself against you with caution. He does not always trust you to be real, worries that some deep, dark part of him has fragmented you in his mind in order to cope. One wrong move and you may shatter, vanish from before him in a cruel nightmare.

A gentle breeze gives him the final push and he collapses into you. Face buried in the fabrics of your kimono, limbs curling up with a strained tremble as the sound of your steady heartbeat and the vibrations your quiet hum carries to your chest, finally coaxes him over the edge. His arms move around you, hands nearly tearing apart the knot of your obi.

You hold him, cradle his head to your chest as the world disappears from around you.

Kyojuro told you keep your eyes looking forward. Grabbed your shoulders and pleaded with you to perservere, a promise that he would nurture the wound on your soul if it did not heal. Such big words from such a small boy. You had felt even smaller in his embrace, crumbled and shivering against his form. He bore a sword on his hip even then, naive and barely adolescent.

The night had been so early. You only snuck out with the innocent want to see the fireflies They were always so pretty as they flickered and soared, illuminated in the moonlight. You hadn't meant to leave the door open, only managed to sense the hunched over beast sneaking into your home out of the corner of your eyes. Your father convinced you later it had been a rabid dog, but you are sure your fragile mind would have believed anything.

By the time your young wit realized the ominous presence, it was already too late.

All you remember is the nauseating fear, the bile gathering in the back of your throat before you are dragged away. Calloused hands gripping yours, the locks of gold and crimson that obscured your view. Kyojuro had you tucked away in a corner of the house. Ordered by his father to keep an eye on you until help could arrive, draped in his cloak of fire and flames, katana stained with the blood of the beast that had infiltrated your home that night. He'd comforted you to the best of his ability, as much as a stranger could, a child no less, but the tortured screams of your father as they had to tend to his mangled leg immediately sent you into a frenzy, buried your face in the older boy's chest in the hopes of muffling the ghastly sounds. Kyojuro covered your ears, eyes alight like guiding candles drawing you towards their everglowing flame, into his warmth. You wished so earnestly to stay in his arms for eternity.

Gratitude of his close proximity grew up with you. A small detour to the river or town and you may pass the gates to the Rengoku estate, locks of flaming hair and deep laughs glimpsed through the corner of your eye, settling a blossoming comfort in your chest.

The image of that night still haunts you to this day, the memory eating away at your very essence, physique heavy and paralyzed as you lay sunken in the softness of your futon unable to find sleep, just waiting for it to wither away with the night.

It's inadvertent how your arms clutch his collapsed form tighter, soaked in the warm rays of the sun in this absent clearing of the woods, secluded and hidden like it had appeared just for two of you. Hands brushing through the forest of his unruly tresses as you urge him not to be so strong. You won't tell. Voice soft and hushed, only for him, you sing a lullaby to cleanse his being of malice. It becomes your little secret, that he spills tears wrapped in your embrace, tongue-tied and voiceless while his mortal soul bleeds.

Kyojuro is ever aware of the things in life that are beyond his control. Wheels in constant motion, there is no need to dwell on them. But, it still manages to put a stagger in his movements when one day his eager tsugoku asks if he plans to pledge his devotion to you soon.

It stems from how he had tucked a finely sculptured hair pain in between your locks. Your sister's grave fascination with Mitsuri's hair enough of a distraction he needed. Of course, he did not disclose how the kanzashi has been carried in his sleeve for three days now, on the account that an opportunity may present itself. He simply thought the color complimented your eyes, petals and pearls like waterfall against your shimmering strands. Your fingertips touch the delicate jewelry with care as you tell him how lovely it is, a wonderful shade of pink adonishing your cheeks.

He offers to wait for you, eyes of amber follow you through the shop as you check off the items on your list. Your sister catch sight of recently stocked honey and hangs off your arm, asking to make castella with stars in her eyes. How can you possibly refuse?

Denying his love for you is futile. You enflame his heart with passion. A yearning that spreads all the way into his fingertips, twitching for the chance to grace your skin. You are softer than the finest silk. Minutes with you are infitnite and he wants to spend each one pouring his soul into you like you're the very essence of his existence. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. But, some deep, dark part of him accepts that he is bound to lose you.

Misturi leans close to his ear. "Master, they must be a beautiful soul to have your affection. Do not doubt yourself."

Kyojuro escorts you home. There is no doubt he is a swordsman when he brings your hands between his tightly, wants to memorize each bend of your knuckles before he has to let you go once again, with rough palms but a touch so gentle your heart jumps in your throat. He places a small pouch in your palm, closing your grip around it as he tells you with grave intent to keep it on your person at all times. It may soothe him more than you, but his eyes are pleading. The finely embroidered wisteria flower in the fabric a promise to protect you when he cannot.

next part

[femmefighter]

18, 19, and 20 for the Star Wars ask game, liebling~

I'm so sorry bbygirl, I did say I'm hopeless with my inbox and I'd probably take a while to get my shit back together. But here we go!!

18. Favourite/Least Villain

Favourite: Alright, Maul's always been firmly in this category. Little drama queen. He's got it so bad for Kenobi. He's fit. He's a survivor. He's been through such horrid abuse at the hands of Sidious. I just wanna give him a hug, pay for his therapy, and hopefully attend his marriage to Kenobi in a few years' time. But since getting into the Thrawn books, blue Chiss boy has shot right up there. I still have massive issues with how he was written in the Ahsoka series, but Timothy Zahn's canon novels are spectacular. To the point where I kinda don't want to put him in the 'villain' category. But considering my introduction to him was in Rebels, where he was such a brilliant opponent for Hera and the gang, he does need to stay here. (Fingers and toes crossed for a redemption arc, but I know I'm dreaming...) Least Favourite: Palpatine. Not that I feel like he's a 'poorly' made character. Complete opposite! I just think he's the devil incarnate and needs to die horrible, painful deaths over and over again.

19. Favourite/Least Favourite Outfit

I've already answered this one, but considering it's been over a month since I did, here, have the copy and paste 😂

Favourite: Live-action Ahsoka’s outfits. Yes, even that poncho that hides her gorgeous deltoids from view. It looks so damn cosy. I love that those outfits give those tiny, tantalising hints of skin whilst still being modest and practical. They’re minimalistic in a way a Fulcrum operative would be, but with some random personal touches that we don’t fully understand yet (Like those beads at her belt. Are they meant to be her old padawan braid? Or Sabine’s padawan braid? Are they just rhythm beads? It’s anyone’s guess at this stage!) But mostly, she just looks comfortable. And since owning both the Adidas wrestling shoes from her white outfit and the Tabi shoes from her dark one, I can attest that they are so damn comfortable whilst also feeling like I could run over any terrain or kick some bad guys’ butts. I’m totally here for it.

Also, Mother Aniseya’s outfit. There’s just so much damn detail to that garb. The fabric. The layers. I love it. Also looks like it would be a cosplayer’s nightmare.

Least favourite: This is probably going to get me cancelled, but I must speak my truth. Leia’s first outfit, the white robe. The “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi” one. It looks like a bedsheet. There. I said it. I don’t mind the whole idea of a plain white dress that covers her up, I just hate whatever fabric they used. How it hangs. Just screams worn-out bedsheet. And fuck trying to keep that thing clean.

Also, the padawan boob-tube. ‘Soka, babes. Just no. This isn’t Friday night discoteca. This is the military. Put your teenage midriff away and go find yourself something with pockets. You’ll need them.

20. Favourite/Least Favourite Creature

Favourite: DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE!!! I love animals, so much. And that extends to all the creatures in the GFFA, in all their weird, wonderfully different quirks. But I'll narrow it down to three. Love the howlers from Peridea - big, dumb, friendly over-sized dogs that I can ride into battle. Perfection! But also the Lothcat/Tookas. And the Tauntauns of Hoth. Give me one of each, please.

Least Favourite: those fucking giant spiders from that ice planet in the Mandalorian. FUCK THAT!!!

[penguinwithafancytophat]

VEEVA DASH IS SAMURI?!?! NOT CLICKBAIT

sorry for minecraft posting on main but this is important

Veeva dash’s design has baffled hundreds upon hundreds of fans because pixels are hard to decipher. 

So i challenged myself to accurately figure out what the heck the skin is 

I looked up her skin and She's apparently a samurai

im white and i know nothing about ancient japanese culture

SO I CHANGED THAT!!

deep dive under the cut

if i got anything wrong please tell me!

Let's start with what's traditionally worn under the armor. 

fundoshi

It looks like underpants because it is. It's mens underwear. It's a loincloth that wraps around the hips. 

hitatare 

This was a samurai’s everyday clothing, chosen for comfort. The sleeves have draw strings to tie them up as needed.

The hakama 

Most hakama are like those super flowy pants that people think are dresses but then you separate your legs and SHOCK!! THEY'RE PANTS!!

Most sources I've seen, however, show samurai hakama being about knee length or being tied off near the knees.  (i haven't read anything confirming this though)

the hitatare is tucked inside the hakama

Tabi

These are socks with a separation between the big toe and rest of toes

Let's move on to the armor and how to “un-westernize” it

Suneate (Shin guards)

Samurai did not wear boots or iron plated armor. They wore shoes and shin guards.

These are made of metal and then lined with leather on the inside for comfort! 

Kyahan

can be worn under suneate for super maximum comfort. 

Haidate

is thigh protection. It's not one solid sheet of metal and leather but it is made of many strips that are tied together for mobility. It is tied around the waist like an apron.

do aka the chest armor.  

Do is made with many strips of leather and metal tied together like the haidate. 

Do always has shoulder straps, unlike western armor, for more mobility

I have made a diagram

It can also be hinged like this 

But you gotta keep the shoulder straps, you can't get rid of those. 

In these diagrams I have omitted the kusazuri, which is attached to the bottom of the do. 

Kusazuri

This is a danger skirt. They protect the hips, butt, and crotch. It's made similarly to the haidate and do. I have seen veeva’s kusazuri be confused as crotch armor.

The guruwa and nadowa 

protect the neck 

This is not required. 

Sode (shoulder armor)

It's made in the same fashion as do. 

Kote

It covers only some of the hand because, if you haven't noticed, the samurai froth at the mouth for that sweet sweet mobility. 

Kabuto (helmet) 

These are made with strips of metal or leather all meeting in the center. This dome is called the hachi. 

^^isolated hachi

There is very often a Mabizashi (a visor/brim) to protect the eyes 

Shikoro is the name of the suspended neck guard, produced similarly to do for that delicious mobility. 

The datemono or tatemono is a crest placed on the front of the kabuto 

Veeva Dash's datemono appears to be a star or sun. 

These are the closest images i could find to what it appears she has

Extra details!!

This can either be a tassel/flag hung from the Kasa jirushi no kan (a small ring on the back of the helmet for the aforementioned flag) or a ponytail fed through the Tehen (a hole for ventilation or to possibly put one's top knot through? Sources were conflicted)

Armor is traditionally put on in a certain order 

playlist with more info (for funsies)

[otherworldseekers]

It Had to be You: chapter something or other (to be edited when I figure it out)

A while back I posted a confession scene and then decided I hated it. I ended up completely reworking the way the confession goes in as much as it's more a progression of escalating confessions over like a couple weeks. These two don't do anything the easy way.

Meanwhile there was this Omega questline scene where Severia gets kinda drunk I'd written like 3 versions of already but was never totally satisfied with. That has now been integrated into the Great Severia x Nero Confession Arc, as I've started calling it to myself, and the result is this scene I'm about to post.

So, this takes place on the last night at the Yawn after defeating the Deltascape and everyone has been celebrating. This is part of the It Had to be You fic, which covers the Omega questline events, but since I've written it out of order I'm not sure what chapter it will be.

As the alcohol ran low the revelry died down and the members of the Ironworks crew one by one began to make their excuses and head for their tents. Severia rose and collected the empty bottles left behind, piling them into an empty crate. Then she stretched her arms over her head, leather and armor creaking. “I absolutely need to get comfortable,” she declared as she made for her own tent. 

Nero was left alone, lounging on the ground with his back against a conveniently placed log and staring at the campfire as he sipped slowly from the last cup of sake. The celebration had lasted hours, but Nero still felt wide awake. He could not free his mind from images of Severia, laughing and smiling and imbibing with the rest of them, acting out some of her battles from the previous week, more carefree than he had ever seen her before. It was a side of her that was new to him, and it was radiant. 

But, truth be told, he was feeling a bit grouchy. Though it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that her smiles and her laughter had had nothing to do with him. 

“You’re all alone.” A voice broke him out of his reverie. 

Nero’s head snapped up to see Severia walking back toward the campfire from her tent. She’d changed out of her adventuring gear, opting for a tight fitting tank top underneath a loosely worn open flannel tunic, a pair of scandalously short shorts and tabi. Her hair was loosed from its regular side braid and fell in glistening waves around her shoulders and thank the gods she had left her hat behind in her tent. She looked much more relaxed as she approached him from the other side of the campfire. 

“Can’t sleep?” she asked. 

“Apparently not,” he replied, raising his cup as if in toast to her and then emptying it. 

“Mind if I join you?” She tilted her head imploringly. 

“Never.”

She favored him with a bright smile, a smile just for him, and he found that suddenly he was in a far better mood. Brandishing a porcelain bottle she had been hiding behind her back she grinned and said, “How about we bring out the really good stuff?”

Nero smirked and held out his empty cup. She leaned over to pour for him and then fetched an unused cup for herself before settling down on the log next to him. They sipped in companionable silence for a few minutes before Nero felt compelled to say, “This is good.” Had she been saving it to share with him? Or was he just lucky enough to be the last man left?

“A gift from the Lord of Doma himself,” Severia said. “I’m told it’s the very best Doma has to offer.” Severia let out a soft sigh of contentment. “I don’t drink much, as a rule. But it’s been nice tonight. With everyone. And now. With you.”

From what Nero had seen, and admittedly, he’d been watching rather closely, Severia hadn’t indulged all that much over the course of the evening. But there was a light flush defining the scales on her cheeks and a subtle alteration to her body language. She seemed more comfortable in her skin, and more comfortable showing it off. He allowed his eyes to travel leisurely up the bare expanse of her legs. Dared he hope that this change of attire was for his sake? 

She turned to him and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Nero wondered if she had any idea what an enticing picture she made. Not that her shirt was particularly low cut, but when she leaned over like that, well he certainly wasn’t going to complain. 

“What’s it like, having a Third Eye?” Her head tilted again, this time in curiosity.

“What’s it like having horns?” he returned with a smug smile. 

Severia laughed softly. “I suppose I don’t know how to describe it any better than you do. It’s just normal.”

“How does it feel to use magic?” This time his question was sincere. He had always wondered, but normally his pride wouldn’t let him ask. 

“Hmmm.” She took some time to think. “Like having fizzy water flowing through your veins and stars shining under your skin.” She made a sweeping gesture toward the night sky with her hands, inadvertently spilling her drink. “Oops,” she said with a giggle.

An actual giggle. He’d never heard such a sound from her before. Normally he had no patience for gigglers, but somehow when she did it, it was adorable. 

Severia removed her flannel tunic and used it to wipe off her legs then discarded it onto the log next to her. Nero sucked in a breath. Without that cover, she was now shockingly underdressed. Not, again, that he was going to complain. But it was unlike her. Perhaps she was a little more drunk than she seemed. 

“May I touch it?”

“What?” Nero surfaced from staring at her breasts, unsure he had heard her correctly. 

“May I touch your Third Eye?” she repeated.

Nero gaped. She wanted to touch it? He searched her face but there was no indication that she was teasing him or that she had any idea what an invasion of privacy she was casually asking for. She was just curious. And he loved that about her. “All right.”

Severia clapped her hands with glee. Nero expected her simply to reach over from her seat on the log and give it a quick tap, but she had nothing so innocent in mind. He sat, wide eyed and dumbfounded, as she proceeded to lower herself from her perch and swing a leg over him. To his utter and complete astonishment, she was now straddling his lap and seemed to be completely at ease doing so. Leaning forward until her breasts were practically in his face, she studied the little pearl on his forehead. 

No one had ever asked to touch it before, or wanted to, as far as he knew. His heartbeat accelerated as he watched her bite into her lower lip as she reached out toward his Eye. 

“Oh, it’s hard,” she observed. 

It was certainly becoming so. Nero let out a slow breath. It was fortunate that the Eye wasn’t sensitive. He was already far too excited by this turn of events. Severia sat back, her weight on his legs. 

“Would you mind if I lick it?”

“Wha-?” It came out something like a squawk. He cleared his throat. She was drunk. That was all there was to it. There was no harm in humoring her. “Why not?”

And then her hot little tongue was on him and he might not be able to feel it through his Third Eye but he could feel it on the skin all around and it was possibly one of the strangest things that had ever aroused him. The evening certainly had taken a turn for the interesting. 

“Well?” he asked, forcing his voice to stay even. “Was it a fruitful experiment?”

“Maybe,” she said with a considering look. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what happens next.” Her ruby eyes pierced him, her expression expectant. 

And she looked, in the moment, so like the Severia that had been tormenting him in his dreams of late that his breath hitched and words failed him. She wanted something to happen. And she wanted him to initiate it. He shouldn’t be so surprised. She had, after all, been flirting with him all week, and he had been flirting right back. And unless he wanted their relationship to stay at that stage forever, he was going to have to make a move at some point. 

The problem was, when it came to Severia, he was a coward. Because the way things were now was so much better than those days after she had rejected him during the Crystal Tower expedition. When she had kept him at a distance, insisted there never could be anything between them. Those days when he had wandered the World of Darkness, fighting out of sheer stubbornness, wondering if anything mattered anymore. When he had nearly lost all hope as the darkness slowly consumed him. 

Anything was better than that, wasn’t it? Any small crumb of her attention was better than her rejection. Even now, when she was practically throwing herself at him. They had been drinking. What if it was just the alcohol talking? What if he gave in to his desperate desire to touch her, to tell her how he had never stopped wanting her… and then the morning came and once again she was ashamed of what had passed between them. What if he messed it up again and she disappeared from his life forever?

So he took the coward’s way. “What do you want to happen?”

Then he watched, his hands held cautiously idle at his sides, as her lips formed into an adorable little pout. Her eyes turned down shyly. “I’ve been waiting and hoping. But maybe you just don’t want to…”

“Don’t want to what?”

She squirmed on his lap, as if rallying the courage to say the words. “To kiss me.”

Nero closed his eyes. The squirming was having a definite effect on him. If she didn’t stop tempting him like this something was going to happen and he wasn’t at all sure she would like it. He exhaled slowly. “Of course I want to kiss you.”

“Then why haven’t you?” she demanded. 

“The last time I tried, you told me not to.” An excuse, really. He had simply been afraid to risk it. 

Again she squirmed, this time in irritation. “But that was years ago! Things have changed.”

“Have they?”

“Don’t you think so?”

“Nothing has changed for me,” he confessed, hoping she would understand. That his regard for her, and his desire for her, had never faded. 

She stared at him for a few silent moments before her eyes widened slightly as she grasped his meaning. Her hands, that had been resting lightly on his chest, grabbed at his shirt, using it as leverage to pull herself into him. The meeting of their lips was soft and sweet. Severia tasted exactly as he remembered, exactly as she did in his dreams, and he wanted nothing more than to wholly devour her. But he held back, letting her take the lead and choose their pace. 

When she broke off the kiss he couldn’t help a strangled groan. But she didn’t pull away. Her tongue darted out and he felt it slowly slide across his lower lip. When his jaw dropped in surprise, Severia’s tongue plunged into his mouth, seeking, exploring, taking his breath away. He couldn’t keep his hands off her any longer. They moved to grasp her thighs, sliding upwards until he was gripping those delicious scales on her hips that always taunted him as they peaked out beneath her shorts. He’d wanted to touch them for ages, and Severia made an appreciative sound into his mouth when he did. When she pulled back once more they were both panting. 

“Fuck, Severia, have you been practicing?” Nero asked between breaths. 

She leaned back and he saw her flush deepen. “Sort of,” she said a little sheepishly. 

Interesting. Nero smirked. “Tell me.”

Severia took in and exhaled a deep breath. “Lord Aymeric.”

Nero raised an eyebrow. “He’s the one you kissed?”

“He’s the first one I kissed.”

Nero thought he had been prepared but a sharp spike of jealousy speared his chest. 

Severia sighed again. “He invited me to dinner once all the Dragonsong War business was over. And well, we were talking afterward and I could tell he wanted to kiss me so… I thought, why not? Because… well, I wanted to know if kissing someone else would be like kissing you.”

“And?” Even burning with jealousy, Nero wanted to know what conclusion she had reached. 

“It was nothing like kissing you,” Severia said, staring down at her hands to avoid meeting his eyes. “It was… extremely awkward and I knew right away that I didn’t want to kiss him again. So I tried to politely let him down and fled as soon as I could. But I was still uncertain if… If there was something special about you or if there might be other people I would enjoy kissing.  So… I thought I’d better ask an expert.”

“I see.” That was logical, Nero told himself. And he had learned by now that Severia was perhaps even more logical than he. 

“I asked Thancred to kiss me,” Severia explained, fidgeting with her hands as they rested on his chest. “It was… well, it was better than Aymeric. I expected as much. But even with Thancred it wasn’t anything special.”

Which implied that kissing Nero had been special. He grinned smugly. “And was your curiosity satisfied then?”

“Mostly. I still didn’t understand what made kissing you so different.” 

“Perhaps I’m just that good.”

That coaxed a smile out of her. “Perhaps.”

“So, is there anyone else I need to be jealous of?”  

Severia put a finger to her chin as if considering. “Well, there was Hilda. That was somewhat unexpected, but it wasn’t bad. Then there was Hien and Yugiri. We were all a little drunk that night.”

“Hien and Yugiri? At the same time?”

“Well, obviously they took turns.”

“You have become quite adventurous it seems.” Nero was surprised and impressed and not a little envious. “Hien is that lord you mentioned?” She nodded. “Another bloody lord.”

“It makes you jealous, that other people have kissed me?” she asked with a coy grin.

She seemed a little too delighted by the idea. Nero’s hands moved up to grip her waist. “I’m a very possessive man, Severia. I want you all to myself. Is that so hard to understand?” He pulled her close again until their lips were almost touching. 

Severia combed her fingers through his hair. “And in return? Do I get you all to myself?”

Nero scoffed, hoping to hide just how much her bold manner was flustering him. “Allow me to remind you that I am not the one who has been traveling across the lands kissing other people. In fact…” He swallowed nervously. “In fact, there’s not been anyone I wanted to touch… Nobody since you.”

Her confident air fell away, showing something far more vulnerable. “You really do want me, Nero?” she asked tremulously. 

It occurred to Nero that Severia was a woman who was used to being needed and relied on for her strange power, but had trouble believing that she could be wanted for herself. And he was hardly innocent of causing her to feel that way. In the beginning, he had only wanted to use her. But this past week had shown him that he no longer wanted to consider his future without her. He could only hope there was a place in hers for him. 

He took her face in his hands. “Severia, Severia, forgive me for making you doubt it.” He pressed their foreheads together. “I desire you now more than ever.” 

And then she was kissing him again, her mouth hot and hungry. Nero wrapped his arms around her, crushing her into him, reveling in the feel of her. He wondered how he had managed to hold himself back this past week. If he had known that he could have had Severia like this, soft and eager and delicious, he never would have been able to. Now he never wanted to let her go again. 

The sound of a tent flap banging open startled them apart. One of the Ironworks interns stumbled out, mumbling to himself as if still half asleep, and headed toward the camp’s makeshift outhouse. They both breathed a sigh. Severia laid her head down on his chest. A minute or so later the intern shuffled back into his tent and soon they heard his snores resume. 

That was when Severia started to giggle, with her face still pressed into him and her shoulders vibrating. Nero wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He lifted her back into a sitting position and raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, a relaxed smile on her face. “I’m just so relieved. I’m so relieved. I feel light as a feather.” At this she began to flap her arms as if she would fly away and Nero realized that the alcohol and exhaustion of the day must have finally gotten to her. 

He smiled in amusement and kissed her nose. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“Oh?” Severia asked, her voice becoming low and sultry as she twisted her fingers into his hair. “You want to take me to bed?”

“You little temptress,” Nero growled, gripping her waist. Gods, of course that was what he wanted. But Severia was undeniably under the influence. He couldn’t be confident that she had unimpaired judgment. So he would bide his time. Closing his eyes and clearing his throat Nero said, “I will escort you to your tent and wish you goodnight.”

Severia pouted, but he lifted her off his lap and as they both got to their feet, Nero had to steady her. “I’m fine,” she protested. “I’m not drunk.”

“That is what people who are drunk say,” Nero pointed out. 

She pouted again and stomped off to her tent, Nero following. He grabbed her wrist before she entered the dark interior and spun her around, holding her against him. “Severia, when I make love to you, it will be because there isn’t a shred of doubt that it’s what we both want.” He smirked when she blushed and leaned down to give her a final lingering kiss full of longing. She whimpered when he pulled away and tried to cling to him. So he took her hands in his and brought them to his lips one at a time. “Goodnight, Severia.”

If you've read this far, thank you so much! And remember, I love getting feedback.

[skyflyinginaction]

Shin Megami Tensei IV FINAL Official Setting + Shinwa Sekai he no Tabi translations 

I don’t own the raw scans or the translations in this post all credit for the translation belongs to Miel who did a wonderful job on it. The Nanashi bio was already translated by Dijeh and the rest are translated by them.

Asahi

In the early scenarios, she was supposed to be a tomboyish character who often used foul language. As you can see, she ended up the complete opposite (lol). Asahi was designed as a child whose parents had lovingly raised, and had her life planned out for her to survive in this destroyed world. They were hoping that she would one day be able to see the light of dawn, hence she was named Asahi. We based her design off themes of the sky, hence the goggles, hat and the blue color scheme to make a pure, orthodox heroine.

Navarre

A harmonious, all-green presence… Actually I just came up with that after (lol). But I think the meaning of Navarre's scarf color was shown pretty well in the game. His ghost form and the fact that he would be a partner was decided from the very beginning. I wanted him to be able to run around the map following the MC, so I suggested a mascot-like design that could float alongside the MC. I'm glad he was able to re-appear as a likeable character (lol).

Nozomi

In the previous game, she was an event character with only pixel art, but in this game, we decided from the very beginning that she would be a partner along with Navarre. We tried to keep the same imagery she had from the previous game but designed elements unique to this game. After she became one with Danu, I wanted a change in both mind and body. Her hair and eye color, as well as her physique are all mixed with Western features, and when compared to the main characters who are all children, she looks like a mature adult lady.

Hallelujah

We had planned to create a mixed-race child who would show what kind of world setting it was in this game. His brown-colored skin was the only thing that still remained of his initial draft; every thing else about him was totally changed from the initial planned scenario. We gave him a Ashura-kai styled outfit, as well as a school jersey to make him look like a child delinquent. The pointy ears and black nails were to give him a demonic feel. When he transforms, he changes color, and I think it perfectly represents the devs’ ideal image of him.

Chironnupu

When Chironnupu was created as a demon, I was requested to make him a mascot-like character. They did not want a standard cutesy character, but rather something that had a “Megami Tensei" type of cuteness. There are very few legends about the Chironnupu, so I got ideas from keywords such as Ainu, fox, divine spirits, and hunting, and instead of simply drawing a fox, I made him a young spirit that wears a carved wooden mask.

Gaston

When I first heard that Navarre’s younger brother was going to be in the game, I laughed… and I was very surprised. Of course they must have the same hairstyle and facial expressions to live up to the family name (lol). Since he is an elite member of the newly established Samurai group, I put his Samurai uniform over his inner wear, so that he looked like a medieval musketeer but set in modern day. The cross symbol represents God and the four archangels. Michael's spear was originally meant to defeat Lucifer, so I based its design off Lucifer’s motif.

Toki

Out of all the characters, this character had the most changes and was the most difficult to design. In the early designs, she was made to look like a miko (TN: shrine maiden) who served Lilith, so I wanted her design to emphasize her young age when compared to Asahi and Nozomi. That design later evolved into a tall, ephemeral type of girl, and then later, finally settled into the design of an assassin. She’s designed as a member of the Ring of Gaea, and her unmasked face has the cuteness of a Japanese doll but also a beauty that exudes an exoticism. 

Nikkari

This is a character that appears right at the beginning of the game, but we did not originally plan to have an illustration for him. However, there was a request for a illustration to show the worldview of this hunter from Tokyo, and how the world and the people he cared for were being overrun by demons. Thus we created illustrations for the 3 of them: Nikkari, Manabu, and Master. The name Nikkari is based off a famous sword, but you’ll just have to find out whether or not his sword is the real deal by playing the game.

Manabu

As a more senior hunter, he has become a unique character. Like Nikkari, we had initially only planned to have pixel art for him, so we made sure to exaggerate that reggae-like feel to convey his love for reggae, even if it's a tiny pixel art. Compared to veteran hunters, he didn't have much experience yet, so we designed him to still look a little naive. Having designs for the sub-characters was not initially planned, so I only had a short amount of time to design them, but I was able to take a breather and had fun while drawing them.

Master

When I was making drafts of his design, I borrowed the design of the adult form of the protagonist (lol). Since the character is a former hunter of an inhabitable society and a master of the company, I gave him unshaven stubble and thick arm hair to give him that rugged feel, but also gave him the outfit of a bar waiter to give him a sense of tidiness. Anyway, it feels like a strange coincidence that the pilot-style outfit worn by the original adult protagonist ended up being worn by Asahi instead. I wanted to see how well he would do.

Swordsman Hunter

During the idea stage, there were many variations for a non-human hunter. This is a lightly armored female hunter whose main weapon is a sword. Her personality also seems outgoing.

Professor Matsuda

This was the initial idea draft for Matsuda. Back then he was planned to be a NPC that you can speak to but didn’t have a character portrait. His facial expressions can’t be seen clearly from the small portrait, but you can see his hunched-back posture.

Elite Hunter

An elite hunter who has a high rank and is well-dressed. It's the type you don't see very often in the underground world of Tokyo, but it seems there’s actually some hunters who are living a privileged life out there.

Punk Hunter

A female hunter that catches the eye with her standing hair and studded clothes. Strong female hunters who live by fighting with demons are all cool-looking. The same goes for Nozomi. It’s no wonder Asahi admires them.

Child Hunter

The boy with the spear is an NPC you can talk to. During the designing stage he was made to be a little child hunter but the final version of the NPC seems to be older in appearance.

Gaea Elder

An old man who was created as a member of the Gaea. Compared to the fierce male members and cold-looking female members, he’s more of a good-natured old man character.

Asurakai Member

Most of the Ashurakai members were thugs in suits, so we had the idea for a man who actually looked dangerous because he had a drawn knife in his hand. Might’ve been a change after Tayama’s death.

[akwolfgrl]

Fireworks

Day 1 first meeting/ first kiss Reiju x Okiku

@oprarepairweek

Reiju still couldn't believe what had happened. Her and her brothers were now free. Big mom had killed their father, setting them free. Thire was still working to be done, but she was confdtint between Dr. Trafalgar and Dr. Chopper that her brothers would be fine. They had already shown vast improvements since being here.

The streets were filled with people celebrating and rebuilding after Stawhat Luffy had taken down Kadio. Reiju stepped to the side to avoid being run into as children ran past giggling. She bumped into a warm body.

“Sorry,” Reuji apologized looking behind her and the up twords a gorgeous women with dark hair that hung down her back, dark blue eyes in a yellow kimono with chrysanthemum floral patterns, a pink cream and lavender obi, white tabi, and black-soled. Her face was round and skin smoth a prefect, dhe a gorgeous red lip and a slight brush of blush on beautiful face. Reuji stepped to the side of the women off the busstiling street.

“It's quite all right,” She smiled down at her with prefectly painted red lips. “The streets are rather packed today. It's so wonderful to see everyone so happy,”

“Yes I suppose it must be nice,” Reuji had seen her around but hadn't had the chance to meet the tall women before. “I'm Reuji,”

“Okiku, your Sangorous older sister,”

“Yes, it's quite easy to tell who I'm related to,” Reuji admitted with a small chuckle. “If you don't, would you care to show me around? It's simple, beautiful hear, very different from my own home,” She always did enjoy beautiful and deadly things, and she could tell the women next to was such.

“Oh I would love to, you cuaght me at the perfect time,”

Reuji was looking forward to it, she had always known she preferred the company of women, she had keep that sceart close to her chest, she had a role to play and one she did very well. Even if she was found to screatly break the rules. But now that she was free, it didn't matter anymore. there was no need to hide.

“Then shall we?”

<>

Okiku led the stunning women who had bumped into her around her home. She couldn't stop stealing looks at Reiju from the corner of her eye. With her vibrant pink hair and curly eyebrows, the other women certainly stood out. Even with the soft pink kimono with the different colored roses and lilys on the sleeves and hem, her yellow obi did little to hide to her figure.

Her blue eyes seemed deep and full of mystery, and her smile promised pain and pleasure if only one was bold enough to take it.

“Oh thire shuld be fireworks starting soon, I know a wonderful spot to them from,” Okiku decided to be bold and took the other women's hand in her own and led her up the hill.

She was unsure why she was acting this way. They had only just met and yet. Okiku couldn't stop herself from wanting to know more. She had heard that her and Sangorous brothers were receiving treatment to bring back all of their emotions to undo what had been done to them by their own father. She didn't know the details, but it must be hard to have to learn how to handle and regulate your emotions as an adult. Okiku chased thouse thoughts from her head as they neared the spot.

It was almost completely dark as the sun had dipped below the horizon. Okiku took a seat on the ground and patted the grass next to her. Reuji joined her after a moment. They sat in silence listening to the world around them, the wind ruslting therw the trees, the animals moving around, the fireflies had just come out to play.

“Oh!” Reuji examlies next to her. “What are these?”

“Thire fireflies you've never seen one before?”

“No never, I grew up in a floating castle, never spent time outside after drak that didn't involve training, thire was simple no time to just sit and enjoy the world around me,”

“Well now you do, now you have time,”

Reiju smiled at her, softer this time. She leaned closet, her kimono sleeve brushing against her own. They sat and watched the night sky light up with colors, celebrating their freedom.

[odaclan]

The true origin of the sandal warming story??

I'm going to start by quoting a story to you. It can be found in "Tales of the Samurai", which was translated by Miyamori Asatarou. You can read the entire text in this link here, but here's the relevant segment (I apologize for length):

While his lordship thus soliloquized, Heishiro, the sandal-bearer—Makabé Heishiro as he was called from his birthplace, Makabé in Hitachi, a surname being a luxury unknown to the third estate—waited without. Having adjusted his master’s footgear there was nothing more to do till he should come out again. But presently Heishiro observed that the snowflakes fell and lay somewhat thick on his valuable charge. He hastened to brush them off with his sleeve, but more flakes fell, and again the geta (clogs) were covered with icy particles. “This will never do,” he said to himself. “His lordship disdains to wear tabi (socks) even in the coldest weather, deeming it a mark of effeminacy; should he place his bare feet on these damp geta he will assuredly catch cold. I must keep them warm and dry for him.” So the good fellow in the kindness of his simple heart took up the heavy wooden clogs, and putting them in the bosom of his garment next to his skin, continued his patient waiting. [...] Heishiro had just time to put the geta straight on the large stone step at the entrance before the double doors slid open fight and left and Masamuné appeared, young, imperious. He slipped his feet on to the geta. How was this? They felt warm to his touch! How could that be in such freezing weather? There could be but one explanation. That lazy lout of a sandal-bearer had been using them as a seat—sitting on the honourable footgear of his august master! The insufferable insolence, of the fellow! In a passion at the supposed insult he caught the offender by the nape of his neck, and shook him violently, exclaiming between his set teeth, “You scoundrel! How dared you defile my geta by sitting on them! You have grossly insulted me behind my back! Villain, take that....” Catching up one of the clogs which he had kicked off, he struck the poor servitor a heavy blow between the eyes, which caused him to reel stunned and bleeding to the ground.

Does this story sound familiar?

If you know about Nobunaga well enough to have heard of the sandal story, you might already noticed this is a little weird.

If you are not familiar with it, I tell you here that this is a standard narrative commonly associated with Nobunaga and Hideyoshi. Barring the oddly specific detail about not wearing socks for it being "effeminate" (it's a first for me), just swap out the name of "Masamune" for Nobunaga and the sandal bearer with Hideyoshi and you get the gist of it.

In the above story, Masamune's anger could not be calmed and the sandal bearer left his service. However, the sandal bearer then eventually became such a celebrated monk of high standing. Masamune ended up inviting him to be the abbot of Zuigan-ji, the temple he had recently restored, without knowing that the master was the same sandal bearer he got angry at.

In the Nobunaga version, Hideyoshi was able to prove his innocence, which led to Nobunaga gaining appreciation of his efforts and promoting him.

Once I did a little investigation on the story of Hideyoshi warming Nobunaga's sandals. In the oldest source I was able to discover, the story was originally nothing at all. Hideyoshi kept the sandals warm, yes, but it was very likely what sandal bearers were just supposed to do and no big fuss was made about it. Nobunaga had appreciated Hideyoshi's care for horses, not what he did with the sandals.

The sandals that Hideyoshi warmed in the source I found were zouri, straw woven sandals. The story I quoted above talked about a geta, which are wooden platformed sandals (sometimes translated as "clogs"). The Nobunaga and Hideyoshi story that were in fictional adaptations or websites indeed flip flop between the sandals in question being zouri or geta. Clearly there is a problem here somewhere.

I believe I have finally found the actual origin of the sandals story, the dramatic one that includes an angry master being angry and accusing the sandal bearer of having sat on the sandals.

The story is narrated in the official website of Engaku-ji, an affiliate Rinzai Zen temple. It was actually the story of a revered Zen master, whose name was Houshin Shousai (or Shouzai) 法身性西.

Master Houshin was born in Makabe 真壁 district in the year 1189, and his name was originally Heishirou 平四郎. The lord he served was one Makabe Tokimoto 真壁時幹. You see now why the sandal-bearer in the above story was named the way that he was?

The narrative was similar to the one from Professor Miyamori's story. Heishirou warmed his lord's sandals, but Tokimoto accused him of having sat on the sandals and threw it at his head (as seen in the "Masamune" story above). Disheartened by this, Heishirou then quit his service and became a monk. He left for China to study Zen, and when he returned to Japan, he became the abbot of Enpuku-ji 円福寺. It wasn't until centuries later that Date Masamune restored Enpuku-ji, and it's now better known as Zuigan-ji 瑞巌寺 (the temple actually kept both names, and its official full name is Shoutou Seiryuuzan Zuigan Enpuku-ji 松島青龍山瑞巌円福禅寺).

Supposing this story was true, then it would appear that people down history just "stole" it and reapplied it to whomever they please. It's actually not about Masamune or Nobunaga or some other iconic Sengoku bushou (who are presumably "more interesting"). The "good ending" of the Nobunaga story had been apparently stolen from another narrative about the shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu and Sakai Tadakatsu (I talked about it in my post).

Once again, this is why I always try to be careful with "just so" stories from the internet. It's fine to use them in fiction, as these has become "established tropes" by now and nobody would be mad if you use them when writing novels or fanfiction.

However, in terms of actual historical truth, I don't take them as fact unless I can verify it in reasonably reliable sources.