#when a rich man being murdered gives me hope for the future I know the world we live in is fucked

[otinytwigso]

Something something well put together thought about the current state of the world and shooting of a CEO connecting to the final lyrics of Jackboot Jump by Hozier... "All around the world you'd think that things were looking rough, but the jackboot only jumps down on people standing up. So you know good things are happening when the jackboot needs to jump."

[cozypancakes]

I know we are talking mainly about Peter and Rose in the fandom, but omg, Maddie Redfield was such a tragic character. This girl never caught a break since she was a kid. First, her mom died, and then her dad blamed her for her sisters death when she was 5/6. Like how insane is this? First of all, he was already rich at that time. He could have afforded a nanny to watch the kids. Even more crazy he blamed her publicly for it. Maddie said in the tape that her dad would go on stage and say Sarah drowned because of her. This man was a red flag from the beginning, I'm wondering how he got so many fans (I know he is corrupt, but people at the college campus were excited to see him there). And then after everything, he's sorta responsible for Maddies kidnapping, plus she had to watch the man she liked getting murdered in front of her while also learning at the same time she was groomed by that man and later got shot by an assassin. Her only friend is Chelsea, someone who is hired to be there for her. Maddie deserves all the happiness in the world. Please let her go to Italy, where she paints all day. I know she won't be in s2 (I hope Chelsea is), but yeah. Also, imagine having to testify against your dad who wanted to kill the president. I know she hates him, so that's gotta feel good in the moment, but if you think about it, she won't get peace. She will always be linked to him, like Peter is linked to his dad and Maddies kidnapping. The conspiracy freaks won't just let her be. Even worse that her dad created the narrative, she's responsible for her sisters death. Maddie is just my girl, and she was suffering the entire time, I need her to be happy in the future.

Maddie definitely deserves some attention, anon. I bet that Redfield didn't get a nanny simply for "appearances". Bet he soaked up the single father card and all the sympathy that got him. And how horrible for Maddie to be publicly known for being the reason her sister die! Like he says that they built a foundation after her sister?? What was the foundation for?? Forcing your eldest child to do a parent's job?! Imagine growing up like that and EVERYONE thinks you're the reason your sister is dead! Parents, classmates, teachers, everyone knows! Some people may ridicule Maddie for having fallen for her art teachers lies but after everything she went through from such a young age I think she was very put together. AND THEN HER FUCKING THERAPIST BETRAYS HER LIKE THAT??? WTF!? How do you go running to the President's chief of staff like that?

She probably won't show up in season 2 and it's probably highly unlikely but I would love a scenario where her and Peter bond over their shitty father's and the conspiracy theory idiots. Peter giving her pep talks before she testifies in court. Peter taking on an older brother role with her and helping her through anxiety attacks or self doubts that creep up about whether she deserves all of this. Peter even learning and accepting that, no, they don't deserve to be punished for their fathers' actions. They are their own people and can only be responsible for what they do. They can't atone for their fathers' sins.

I need them to be each others found family now. Peter being the first person (okay, maybe second after Chelsea) that she sends drafts of her newest artwork to. Introducing Peter to any significant other she has over the years and Peter giving them the "if you ever hurt her, we will hunt you down" (rose standing threateningly behind him). Peter dropping in to visit whenever he is nearby (M: oh you were in the neighborhood, huh? P:England is in the same continent so yeah). Maddie reassuring Peter that he's going to be an amazing father because he is so caring and will always protect them. Peter walking Maddie down the aisle if she ever got married...

Okay that got away from me real quick

[blackberry-jam]

This is a sideblog so I cannot legally reply in the comments so. First of all, I think something really helpful to consider about the context of this post is that I spend a lot of time thinking critically about the media I like, and by “thinking critically” I mean analyzing the themes, characters, relationships, axes of power and bias etc. not “critically” as in criticizing it, because I am a graduate student and I love to complicate media.

This post was written as an offshoot and response to a completely separate post about how cannibalism as a cultural taboo is not made more meaningful by normalizing it, because the Point of a cultural taboo is that it is historically a morally and psychologically disturbing act. This got me thinking about how HABIT’s cannibalism is generally received by the fandom, and my general conclusion is that there are, simply put, a lot of people who only watched the videos on the emh channel.

Most people do not get the worst of HABIT because they only get him from the outside, which means that the cannibalism seems like a one-off or a convenient way to ensure that Steph and a baby aren’t constantly needed on set, rather than a recurring character behavior. HABIT is implied over and over again to be a sentient amalgamation of all of humanity’s evil, in contrast to Slenderman (inhuman evil, distant and above us and outside of our understanding) and the Rake (animal evil, primal and natural, old and unchanging). Everything we’ve done wrong, everything we are capable of doing wrong, it’s in him. HABIT commits just about every crime imaginable both in the present of the videos but also in the stories he himself tells- murder, rape, arson, fraud, theft, cannibalism, assault, etc etc etc. If one of us has done it, he probably has, too. That’s all he is- pure chaos, pure violence, pure desire. He does what he wants and he wants what he does. All power, no restraint.

Cannibalism is about power, narratively. When we tell stories about cannibalism, it’s always about power and powerlessness. The rich eating the poor, because we’re like livestock to them. The poor eating the middle class, because those without money are next to animals and those with a little money are becoming too weak to survive. Survival cannibalism is all about a lack of power, of course, about the painful lack of any food but your fellow man, but also about the struggle to be the one who eats rather than the one who is eaten.

HABIT forcing Evan to eat his own child, explicitly one of the few things giving him hope and joy for the future, is a display of dominance. It’s how HBAIT proves that Evan can’t do anything to stop him, that Evan is a prisoner in his own body, that HABIT is a monster he cannot fight. Cannibalism is another weapon in HABIT’s arsenal, sure, but it’s also a very pointed moment of ego and indulgence- he forced Evan to eat his own child bite by bite, savoring the experience, just because he could. Because it would hurt Evan, and because it would be fun.

HABIT? He eats. He indulges. It’s a running theme- the fast food scene, the focus on Evan being the nutrition guy early on, the discussion of hunting, the running theme of rabbits and traps and the focus on knives- HABIT has an appetite, and it’s no coincidence that one of his most notable acts is eating the baby, in my opinion. They put a lot of HABIT’s other acts in harder to find places, but the baby? That’s on main. They wanted us to know about that no matter what, because it’s a key piece of HABIT. Finally looping back to what sparked this in the beginning- cannibalism is disturbing. To people who have done it to survive, to people who are just hearing about it or watching it, even to people who find out it happens for the first time in their lives. It’s a taboo because it’s upsetting- because our monkey brains tell us meat shall not eat meat. It’s key to our survival that we don’t become cannibals! And so, it’s upsetting to become a cannibal, especially without your own consent and against your will. It’s meaningful that HABIT picks this act specifically to break Evan down above like. The million things you can do to a baby that are disturbing and evil. Babies are fragile! They get hurt easily! He could have done anything, and he picked eating it. Cannibalism is messy and violent and horrible and visceral and HABIT chose it on purpose. I find that really interesting as a character choice.

This is a little left of center of this topic, but I always conceptualize HABIT as a rabbit chewing off its own foot in a trap for a reason- he hobbles himself by antagonizing the main trio to the point of extinction every cycle through, and one of the acts that cements it in this cycle is that he eats the baby- which also, in a way, is an extension of Evan. It’s genuinely such a perfect representation of the act’s narrative function and its later meaning- it’s a kind of autocannibalism, the devouring of oneself. Ouroboros, forever turning itself inside out, devouring its own tail. A rabbit stepping into the same trap over and over.

That post about cannibalism becoming too mainstream and destigmatized by certain sections of the internet and therefore losing its weight and horror and visceral nature just has me thinking about how HABIT ate a baby and everyone was like oh lmao he’s just an edgy cool guy!!!! He’s just like me fr!! Haha!!! Which. I think not enough people are freaked out by the fact that he forced Evan to eat his own child raw and possibly alive. He mentions “the bones” and implies that it took awhile. Like that wasn’t Hannibal-style Brioche With Baby Pâté and Shredded Zucchini in a Plum Vinaigrette, he just opened Evan’s mouth and bit down until the job was done, and I think that says a lot more about Habit than people want to examine. Idk it just. has me thinking. The number of times hurting children comes up in entries and supplementary materials about HABIT is kind of overwhelming, really. I’ve seen people talk about how they think he’d draw the line at hurting children, but the source material goes out of its way to state otherwise- just about every time he’s in contact with children they die. Or worse. He’s the summation of the worst of humanity, the combined aggregate of all of our flaws and crimes, and one of those crimes is cannibalism, so honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if he made a habit (ha) of it.

[punemy-spotted]

A Worthy Grave - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Everybody Dies Alone

Pairing: Federal Agent!Ari Levinson x Witch!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS A HORROR FIC, True Crime Elements, Police Procedural Elements, Possibly a little Twin Peaks, Violence, Murder, Death, Flayed Bodies, Ghosts, Ghouls, Violence Against Women, Violence Against Random Hikers, The Woods are Dangerous, Serial Killers, Choking, Gutting, Witchcraft, Blood, Appalachian Gothic Horror, Eventual Smut, Plot with Porn

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: Any place with enough history in it is gonna have ghosts. And sometimes they call your name.

O Mother It is that fear that moves both heart and tongue To draw tight curtains so that we might let the darker hours pass unseen. We hear you call in the deepest night. We hear you call to us in voices that belong to our dead and gone And we know better, but we follow you into The darkened woods all the same.

— Old Gods of Appalachia Episode 31: Season 3 Prologue

Notes: I’M BACK, BITCHES. This fic is a sort of direct sequel to Glory, Amen, so keep that in mind as you read it, except I decided to include MORE CE babes into this fic and may also include other CE babes in the future. This is gonna be more Twin Peaks inspired than anything else, and I hope you enjoy it! I crave feedback, so tell me what you think!

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

Any place with enough history in it is gonna have ghosts, and these mountains in particular — being the oldest mountains in the world — have the type of ghosts that predate the very humanity the spine of this land is afflicted with. The type of ghosts that — if you’re good and careful, if you find the right gaps ‘tween then and now t’slip between, say the right words to invite ‘em into your space — might just come pay you a visit.

Other times, you don’t gotta say shit.

These woods’ll keep you safe, if you keep ‘em safe, your momma would warn you with all the gravity of a stormcloud, wrist-deep in the rich black earth of her garden, digging out root vegetables and other sorts of magic from that treasure trove of life she’d spent more years cultivating than you’d actually been alive, This mountain will sustain you proper, if you sustain it.

These woods are deep and dark an’ full of the type of demons even your daddy’s Bible would have been scared to name, but you are the blood of both an’  your momma feared no man, woman, or haint in these or any mountains.

Which is why, when the specter shows up on your front porch, screamin’ for blood an’ justice, all you do is give her a name and offer her a plate of cornbread she’d never actually be able to eat.

Stops the screaming though.

Trouble with small towns — especially small towns in mountains like yours — is that sometimes, people go missing. People take walks out in the woods, fall into some mineshaft the State forgot to tag or get got by some apex predator lookin’ to prove just how wild God’s own country really is. People get lost, people just plain die. Nine times outta ten, nobody finds the body but the beasts an’ eventually nobody looks, all chalkin’ the loss up to some mountain sacrifice.

Blood for blood, what you make, I will take.

You’re no stranger to death — Hell, Cocke County coroner, you might almost call it your life’s work — but some parts of the job you could do without.

Parts which occasionally — and currently — include a sobbing woman sittin’ translucent an’ bloody in your kitchen.

You call her Janey, on account of the Jane Doe #117 title stamped on the manila folder sittin’ in your office, the one with the photos of a body that probably once belonged to the unsettled soul you’d invited inside and offered a sacrifice of fresh-baked bread. It ain’t her real name, but that’s what the boys over at Park Services are still trynna find out.

Ain’t nothin’ I can do about your body, honey, you tell her, sitting across from the glum-faced woman and trying to decipher the words she means to say between the static that just can’t stop pouring from that hollowed-out mouth.

Your daddy tried teachin’ you the language of the other side, all deep snarls an’ buzzin’ shadows, but sometimes it’s the words that manage to spill out that tell the truth, those last vestiges of humanity bubbling bloody an’ baleful from a tongueless mouth before death takes its last due.

You know her secrets.

You know she wore heels more than hiking shoes. You know she’s not from these mountains, not anywhere near these small towns. You scraped the dirt from under her fingernails and know she fought to survive with everything she had and you know, gut-sinkin’ and stomach churning, that she was not the first body her killer left behind.

You know you could write her name out on your paperwork and give her family some peace, tell ‘em she didn’t run away, tell ‘em she loved ‘em more than anything in the world.

You know you could tell her boyfriend she wasn’t cheating on him, that the man who picked her up and left her here for the beasts to find was someone she thought she could trust. You could tell her momma she was comin’ home from a good job, that she stopped drinkin’ four months ago, that therapy was goin’ well and she was gettin’ better. You could give her daddy a body to bury long before its time, an’ if this were the Holler you grew up in, you know that would be that.

But it ain’t, so nothin’s ever over, and now you’ve gotta figure out how to prove this shit.

You pour yourself a fourth cup of coffee, watching your cornbread offering slowly begin to mold, decay following death as it must always do. You gotta give me something to go off of for the Feds, honey.

You get static in return.

Well. That and the shrill ring of your landline, that old rotary thing you bought from a thrift shop on the other side of the state, kept connected just in case the towers don’t reach you through the early morning mist.

There’s only one goddamn asshole who’d call you on it at six in the goddamn morning.

You ever sleep, Levinson?

Could ask you the same thing, Doc, how long you been up?

Clockwork. The same conversation you’ve had every morning since Ari Levinson transferred from some national park you didn’t give a damn about up north, his drawl about as much a part of your morning routine as coffee and keeping Goatrude out of your vegetable garden.

You want something, Levinson, or you just callin’ to ask about my sleepin’ habits?

What, can’t check in on you, Doc? You can almost hear the casual smugness in his voice, imagining the way he might speak around the cigarette he’s probably smoking at too-early-in-the-morning, I got an update on Jane Doe. You need to get out here.

The grind of gravel tells you just how much choice you have in the matter, your houseguest disappearing the moment she realizes you are not about to be alone for much longer, Jesus, Levinson, you gotta give a lady some warning, you slam down the receiver with a satisfying sound, grabbing the thoroughly-molded cornbread and throwing the plate wholesale into the bin and dumping the rest of your coffee pot into a thermos, listening for the sound of his engine roaring to a stop as you rush through the rest of your morning.

You grab your bag as you leave, stalking your way down the gravel walk and flashing Ari Levinson — parked halfway up the driveway and mercifully blocked further by Goatrude doin’ her best guard dog impression — a hard glare in response to his lazy grin, One day I’m gonna have you arrested for trespassin’, you threaten as you get into the too-fancy-for-a-city-slicker truck he drives.

He doesn’t say a word as you get in, just turns the key in the ignition and with a wink and backs away from Goatrude threatening to headbutt his front bumper.

It takes about fifteen minutes to get to the scene, where your crew and work truck are already waiting, jumpsuit and booties prepared for you to pull on before you’re allowed past that yellow tape and allowed to face the scene before you.

And just what the Hell m’I supposed to do here?

Well, Doc, I’m pretty sure you’d say the next step’s the autopsy, Agent Ari Levinson, Park Services Investigation Division — or whatever the hell that formal title is that he handed off to the poor rookie trying to keep curious hikers away from the yellow tape — saunters up behind you, his cigarette put out so as not to contaminate the crime scene, taking it in with you.

Helluva scene too, with its most pertinent part — for you, right now — currently including a body layin’ pretty as a picture on a flat slab of rock, eyes closed and lips blue, naked as the day it was born.

Which all would’ve been fine, save for the lungs, kidneys, liver and contents of a final meal neatly poured from a stomach into a tupperware container and placed around the meatsack-that-had-once-been-a-human-being like an offering to some great and terrible mortician God.

If you got all the answers, Agent Obvious, you wanna explain to me just how the hell I’m supposed to autopsy a body that’s already been done?

Oh, we got a whole lot better than that. You contemplate turning him into a crime scene with your own gloved hands as he turns, gesturing towards the far side of the slab, just past the edge of a cluster of trees, where two of your staff stand with two large black dogs seated patiently in wait.

Surrounding a lump hidden by a big white sheet.

You can guess what’s underneath that sheet even before they remove it, like every shitty horror film you’ve seen. A chunk of meat vaguely shaped like a human, wearing none of its features, nothing identifiable ‘cept raw. meat.

We’ve been callin’ it Jekyll and Hyde all morning, Ari Levinson tells you, Deputy coroner’s fifty yards back dry heaving, so we—

Y’all brought in the big guns. Don’t tell me — that’s the same body.

Got it in one.

You close your eyes for a moment and take several breaths before looking at the scene once again, trying not to curse yourself or your momma for the way your day’s turned.

You got any more bad news for me, or am I allowed to start gettin’ in there and doing my job?

You try to ignore the way Ari Levinson’s gaze holds yours… and the way Jane Doe #117 shows up from over his shoulder, her hollow-mouthed scream silenced the moment the Agent starts to speak again, We got an ID on last week’s vic.

The thing about names is how much power they hold. Your daddy took his name, stole it off the corpse of a man too broken with hunger to protest. Your momma abandoned hers, becoming more of a title than a name, markin’ herself as matriarch an’ Queen of the verdant kingdom she clawed out from the hands of the ungrateful and the undeserving. Both of ‘em agonized over yours, planting seeds of bloom and prosperity in every theoretical letter before they finally settled on somethin’ proper.

Only for you to change it the moment you were old enough to move outta the family home, disappear to the big city an’ make a name for yourself, choosin’ to hide any connection you had to that Holler you called home, not outta shame but outta knowing.

And now it’s back. Starin’ at you from the ID card of a once-unidentified murder victim who’d spent your morning destroying a plate of your favorite cornbread recipe while her physical form remained in stasis in your morgue.

Rogers.

Bein’ the daughter of the town pastor and the town witch came easy for you, just like it did all your sisters. But outside the boundaries of the Holler where everybody knew to respect Ma an’ Pastor Rogers, you knew your family’s ghosts would be all too happy to eat you right up.

Ari Levinson brings you a cup of coffee as you step outside the cold storage of your morgue, looking a bit like you’d seen a ghost and like you’d suddenly regressed to being afraid of them. Alright, Doc?

Stupid questions ought to deserve stupid answers, but you have the good sense to nod your head and busy your mouth with scalding itself on fresh-brewed water somebody whispered about coffee to. Somebody contact her next of kin? You haven’t gotten used to saying her real name, your real name, so instead you just gesture vaguely at the morgue behind you, hoping the agent will have enough sense to use context clues and get to the point.

Thankfully, he does. Family’s coming down tomorrow. Folks live in North Dakota — got no idea how their girl ended up down here. Dad kept askin’.

You tell ‘em we got no idea?

You really think my bedside manner’s that bad, Doc?

Stupid questions ought to deserve stupid answers.

You continue to have the good sense to not respond, leaving Ari Levinson looking slightly more than insulted as you pretend to have heard your office phone ringing and walk right back into the icebox.

That night, the spirit formerly known as Jane Doe #117 comes with a friend. John Doe #43 is… less pleasant lookin’ than the girl whose ID he had hidden inside his flayed jaw, eyeless face staring at you from your kitchen window and tapping on the glass to be let in.

You don’t. Victims of violence like that come with haints attached to ‘em and you’re not about to invite that into your home. The offering of cornbread is left on your back porch instead, with a light left on so he wouldn’t get lost on his way to a meal that didn’t consist of Cliff bars and spinach tortellini. It doesn’t stop his knocking though, insistin’ that your presence alone is enough reason to get in here. That the door is only a few steps away.

As if you’ll risk getting hurt by this ghost who probably won’t even remember attacking you.

Maybe he’s the one that attacked her, maybe he never even saw her, maybe he just wants the same comfort she must’ve craved during her final minutes on this Earth, or maybe he’s just a figment of your imagination as you ruminate on why the idea of a dead girl sharin’ your old last name — not an uncommon last name either, owned by more than a hundred thousand people in the country alone — bothers you so goddamn much.

Whatever the case, you won’t open the door for him, not now. Not ever. You just keep your charms on you when you step outside and feed the goat before lockin’ up the house and going upstairs to go to bed, biddin’ them both goodnight and, We’ll do our best.

The knock on your front door comes not long after midnight, loud enough it echoes all the way to your bedroom, persistent and steady as a drum.

And when you don’t respond at first, it keeps right on banging on the damn thing until you’re convinced you’ll soon see a fist makin’ a dent through that thin wood as the sound becomes a steady pounding.

Doc! Doc, it’s Ari, you gotta let me in.

You’ve heard of haints makin’ mimics of voices, memories, an’ hell, even whole faces of both the living and the dead, so you know better than to fling that door wide open and let him in to see you in your nightclothes before he’s ever even bought you a damn dinner, but that tone of voice he bears chills you to the bone somehow.

Doc, I know you’re in there, you gotta—

Prove it’s you.

What?

You heard me. Tell me somethin’ only Ari Levinson would know I know about him.

Oh c’mon, Doc. I don’t fuckin’ know. Do you even know my birthday?

Okay, so he’s got a point. You don’t admit that.

Fine, fine. What’s the hurry, couldn’t this have waited ‘til tomorrow?

Ari Levinson looks half-wild as you let him in, glancing outside briefly to see the flayed figure of your most recent unwanted visitor still seated mutely on the porch, cornbread rotted to dust and Goatrude holding him at bay. The Agent either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, eyes fixed on you instead, You got a gun?

Got a gu— the hell sorta shit are you up to, Levinson?!

His lips curl back from his teeth in a sort of grimace before he turns, glancing out your front windows and then back at you, You know you have a skinless corpse on your porch?

Oh, so he noticed.

I’ve been trynna ignore it. That’s besides the point, the fuck are you doing out here and why do I need a gun?!

Personal protection, why else? There’s two dead bodies less than ten miles out from your property, Doc, or did you not notice?

The point. You need him to get to the point, and you might actually kill him if he doesn’t, arms crossed over your chest and trying not to let your scowl get too deep. Please don’t tell me you came all the way over to my house just to tell me to use protection.

No, it’s cuz I figured out how to measure distances, he retorts, before… drawing himself up to his full height and letting his jaw set properly, Fine. You gotta promise not to say I’m crazy first though.

Not crazy, says the crazy motherfucker bangin’ on my front door at one in the goddamn morning. You take in the seriousness of his glare for a moment, processing how many times you’ve actually seen him be serious before, Fine. Fine, I got a skinless guy on my porch anyway. Nothin’s gonna beat that.

Famous last words, you know, as you head to your kitchen to start up coffee. There’s no sleep to be had for you tonight.

So you’re tellin’ me you’re the one who found this morning’s corpse?

You watch him, stirring about three tablespoons worth of honey into your coffee in a vain attempt to use the added sugar in your caffeine to stay awake, watch the way his eyes glance askance like he could hide the gears turning in his head, coming up with an excuse for his confession that doesn’t sound as insane as he feels.

You got no idea, you almost tell him, but it’s almost funnier to watch him sweat.

I was investigating a hunch on… the girl, he’s as used to calling her Jane Doe as you are, the name slipping from his mind.

You don’t tell him you appreciate it it.

A hunch. What, you got an informant I don’t know about?

He looks sheepish, which is new for a man you didn’t know had any concept of shame, I told you not to call me crazy, Doc.

So you did. Fine. Just go over this again for me — you went out lookin’ for clues on the Jane Doe cuz you just… thought you missed somethin’, four miles away from where they found her body?

I said I went to the crime scene, Doc. And then I walked for four miles… on a hunch.

You’re going to need more coffee.

Well. Gotta hand it to you, Levinson, you weren’t wrong on that one.

See? Told you. Found the body, but knew I wasn’t gonna be able to justify why the fuck I was out at the ass-crack of dawn, four miles away from the scene and following a hunch so…

So you just got lucky with the hikers comin’ up the way?

He nods, dragging his tongue along the inside of his cheek while he chews over what to say next, looking both thoughtful and displeased, Figured I’d be investigating the scene anyway, any bootprints I had could be explained later.

You have to hand it to him, he did think it out. You sit back, listening to him continue, go on about calling you to the scene — helps to call your partner out, you suppose — and then going back to both scenes to figure out the connection between the dead girl and the skinless meatsack.

Figured that if it worked once, it’d work for Flayed Doe over there, so I just… walked. Followed the hunch, and ended up here—

The Flayed fucker’s been here since sundown — it happens.

You eye him, watching the way he doesn’t react to your casual explanation of why there’s a skinless corpse on your front porch, measuring his words, letting coffee scald your tongue and pretending it doesn’t bother you none as you consider how much you should believe him.

Or how much of his own grave you should let him dig.

You’re pretty calm about the dead guy, Ari’s voice is halfway to an accusation, watching you right back as he processes, measures you up, weighs the way you glance past his shoulder to the thing still knocking at your window and the girl still hiding from the agent in your kitchen.

You don’t answer, not right away, grabbing the biscuit jar and half-slamming it down on the table between the two of you instead, figuring you’ll both need something to fill your bellies on top of the coffee while you so something close to talkin’ about… this place, an’ whatever  the hell it’s doin’.

You’re not the only one telling lies, Levinson.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Y/n meets her savior and officially joins the investigation. 

@deadman-inc-bikeshop @viviace and @dovahdokren here you go. If you want to be on the tag list, send me a DM. 

Trigger warnings: dissociation, implied sex abuse/trafficking, discussions of death, drugs

It was only when the man left your line of sight that your senses started to return. And even then, you felt like you were on a separate plane of existence from everything happening around you. You were floating, completely numb to your surroundings, letting the world push you wherever it needed you to be.

You weren't entirely sure how you made it from the dumpsters to the FBI headquarters, but there you were.

You listened in on the conversation happening in the other room. From what you could tell, the man who saved you was arguing with his boss.

"Because if there's so much as a Tylenol in her system, you're going to pass it off to the DEA." The man said, his voice soft but firm. This wasn't the first time they had this argument and it showed.

"Will, it is not my fault that the DEA gets preferential treatment." The boss sounded exhausted. "We have a better chance of catching this man with their resources. And we can't turn a blind eye to how substances affect human behavior. I thought you of all people would accept this."

"What if there's nothing in her system?" The man posited. "Then all we have to work with is our own resources. Would that be so bad?"

"Look," the boss said, clearly trying to diffuse the situation. "We can't determine anything until forensics gets lab results back tomorrow. For now, see what you can find out from the waitress. She was able to keep her talking, maybe we can find out about what."

The man resignedly left the room and made his way to you. You glanced around the hallway, hoping he wouldn't notice that you've been eavesdropping.

He sat on the opposite end of the bench. You pulled the security blanket from the ambulance tighter around your shoulders.

"I know this is such a stupid, insensitive thing to ask," the man broke the silence. "But are you okay?"

"If it makes you feel any better," you sighed and dropped your shoulders. "I wasn't really okay to begin with."

"Yeah." The man agreed. "It doesn't matter how much you break something, it's still broken. Broken is a... Boolean value."

"It's just that.." You clutched the receipt between your fingers. "Just as I thought things were starting to improve, the universe sends me a cultist strapped to a bomb. I'm never going to recover from this."

"I don't think anyone expects you to." He said. "My name's Will, by the way."

"[F/N]." You said, just for formality's sake. He already knew your name. "I don't think I ever properly thanked you for saving my life."

"Don't worry about it." Will smiled weakly. "If you think you can, though, it would be innumerably helpful if you told us what happened."

You knew you weren't in a position to be asking for favors, but you were desperate. "Could I maybe stay with you for a while?"

Will hovered his hand over yours as if asking for permission. You took it, perhaps a little too eagerly.

"I'll stay with you as long as you want."

Will's presence made it easier to tell the man, whom you learned was the head of the Behavioral Science Unit of the FBI, everything that progressed that night.

"And then she started chanting that one bible verse about the martyrs inheriting the kingdom of heaven." You finished. "That was when Will shot her in the leg."

The director, whose name you learned was Jack Crawford, took a moment to ponder the information. You felt like a child that had been sent to the principal's office.

"Do you have any reason to believe that the woman was under the influence of any drugs? Alcohol?" Jack asked, resting his hands on the desk.

"Not with any certainty, no. I didn't see her ingest anything." You shook your head. "If she was under any influence at all, it was probably against her will."

"What makes you say that?" Jack cocked his head. "In your own time, of course."

"She was..." you glanced at Will, just to remind yourself that he was there. "Scared. Nothing she said had any conviction behind it. It was like she was a hostage being forced to read a fake suicide letter."

"What about these 'cult names' you mentioned?" Jack said. "What significance do you think they have?"

"She kept referring to Chase as 'vanguard'." You began.

"That's what Keith Raniere called himself." Jack interrupted. "Keith Raniere was the head of a sex trafficking cult."

"And the only reason I know that is because I listen to a lot of podcasts." You felt the need to explain. "I'm not sure how Mulvaney decided it would be a fitting title. Maybe he identified with Raniere."

"Did the woman call herself something, too?" Jack leaned in.

"Funny you should mention that," You forced a laugh. "Because she referred to herself as an 'unwoman'."

"That is interesting." Jack brought his hand to his temple, perhaps trying to convince you that he knew what ‘unwoman’ meant.

"He probably thinks Handmaid's Tale is some kind of instruction manual." You said, emphasizing the title of the work. 

“Handmaid’s Tale!” Jack exclaimed, suddenly understanding. "So, are you thinking maybe he's running a breeding cult?"

“Like a borrasca.” You turned to Will, hoping that maybe he would understand what that meant.

As if on cue, a woman in a lab coat burst into the room. 

“Dr. Katz,” Jack announced, taken aback by her urgency. “Welcome.” 

“Jack, you’re going to want to see this.” Dr. Katz said simply. 

Jack stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, Ms. [L/N], Will. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

Again, you were alone with Will. 

“I’m...” Will broke the silence, pausing to find the right words. “Jack isn’t as scary as he looks. He just has a habit of asking too much of people. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you’re perfectly within your rights to tell him to back off.” 

You shook your head. “That wouldn’t feel right.”

“Tell me about it.” Will muttered and leaned back in his chair. “It does seem pretty out of character for him to want to drop the whole case on the DEA, but he does have a point about their resources. You can’t argue with money.” 

“No.” You agreed. “You can’t.” 

Will sighed. “I’m sorry. The last thing you probably want to hear about is FBI in-fighting after almost being killed twice in a two-week period.”

“It doesn’t really inspire confidence, no.” You said. 

“Let’s talk about something else.” He offered. “Do you like... fishing?” 

You laughed at his strange attempt at making conversation, but answered honestly. “I used to go fishing with my grandpa when I was a kid.” 

Realizing he’d tapped into a happy memory, Will decided to follow it. “Where did he take you?” 

“My grandparents had this lake house up in Michigan.” You reminisced. “On this dinky little manmade lake where all the rich boomers took their spoiled grandkids for the summer.” 

“Did you ever catch anything?” He shared a little smile.

You realized that he was doing the same thing to you that you did to the unwoman. He was trying to keep you talking to avoid, or at least prolong, some catastrophic event. But he was doing it for your sake. You appreciated that. 

“We pulled up a ton of bluegills, some walleyes, occasionally a bass.” You listed. “One time he and his brother-in-law settled a dispute by seeing who could catch a catfish first. They were outside all day.” 

“Did he ever take you downstate to go fishing on Lake Erie?” 

You stared vacantly ahead. “He wanted to.” 

Will lowered his head in respect. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It was, like, fourteen years ago.” You admitted. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Still,” Will shrugged. “Grief takes a lot out of you. I’m sorry for bringing it up, I had no idea.”

“At this point, most avenues in my life end in death. It’s not your fault.” You smiled at him. “Thanks for trying, though.” 

You settled into another prolonged but comfortable silence. 

“I think Jack is going to arrange to get you into some kind of protective custody, by the way.” He said, shifting his body to face you. “And I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice now that he knows Chase is targeting you, specifically.” 

“Yeah, I was thinking about that.” You answered. “I think they’re probably going to insist I quit my job, too.” 

“You sound disappointed.” Will nodded. “You’ve grown to like that job, huh?” 

“I was good at it.” You admitted. “My boss was gunning for me to take over when he retired. I had big plans for that place. I know waitressing is supposed to be a job that’s ‘just a job’ but--” 

“You had ambition.” Will finished. “You were making an investment for your future.” 

For the first time in a while, you felt heard. “Right.” 

“If you would permit me to say,” Will stood up and walked towards Jack’s desk. “I think you would be an invaluable asset to this investigation.” 

You leaned on the armrest. “I don’t know, Will. I feel like I would just get in the way.” 

“But the sooner we catch this sick fuck, the sooner you can get back to your restaurant.” He said, grabbing a post-it note. He gestured to you with a pen. “And I will do everything in my power to get you back to that restaurant.”

“Why?” You asked. “I’m just a waitress.” 

“Your profile of Chase Mulvaney in your TattleCrime interview was a work of genius.” Will took off his glasses. “And it was incendiary enough to make him come back for you. It wasn’t just a cocaine-fueled bout of murderous hysterics. He remembered you. Now, throughout this investigation, Jack has been ignoring me. But maybe he’ll listen to you.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” You raised an eyebrow. “What then?” 

Will sighed and leaned back on the desk. “Then I do it myself.” 

“Fuck it.” You said, the complete contents of your soul behind those two little words. If he was going to raise the stakes, by god you were going to match him. “I don’t have much else to live for, so might as well die for something.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Will agreed. 

[kellinrk800]

toko fukawa comphet no i don’t take criticism

nobody will even see this because my account just. doesnt get traction but here have a ramble abt toko’s backstory and how much i firmly believe her attraction was comphet.

spoilers for thh, sdr2 and udg

tw// ab/se, n/glect, severe bullying

toko was severely neglected and unwanted when she was a child. she grew up with two mothers and one father due to both sleeping with the same man and neither wanting their child which caused her to be mistreated. once she was locked in a closet and forced to stay there for three days without food. clearly, she grew up in a household completely devoid of healthy love. genocide jack’s development was likely a response to cope with the traumatic experiences.

her time in elementary was no different. in third grade, she was used as a scapegoat for stolen money and her classmates tied her to the jungle gym with a garden hose as punishment.

her first real “love” was with a boy who she had been friends with since elementary but when she finally confessed through a letter, she found it pinned to the bulletin board to mock her. this was genocide jack’s first kill, leading me to believe that her murders were actually a form of protection.

on one occasion (and most likely more considering her difficult relationship with understanding rejection) she was ghosted halfway through on a date after spending three days and nights planning it so that she would not mess it up. she later found out that the boy only asked her out because he lost a bet.

the most likely only healthy representation of love she ever has was through media, which is arguably extremely heteronormativity and the actual healthiness of how relationships are presented in media is debatable.

she internalised all of these things happening to her and believed she deserved them somehow, building her inferiority complex. she began to assume that people only expected bad of her and self victimises herself almost on instinct despite her nature to express opinions without care for others most of the time. her self esteem is extremely low and she often worries about being considered an “old hag” in ultra despair girls.

toko fell in love with the idea of love, not an actual person. at some point she turned to novels and writing as a way to express her emotions and she used that passion to create works of art through her novels and created a toxic idolisation of the perfect relationship with nothing but media, her family’s relationships and her past experiences to go off.

she began to let herself get hurt and internalise it which ended up building her inferiority complex even further to the point of becoming unhealthily infatuated with anyone she saw fit as a stand in for the dreamy perfect people that made her books succeed.

time and time again genocide jack and toko were mistreated in their relationships, causing their system to suffer greatly. jack began to kill anyone toko saw fit as a perfect romantic interest to protect them both, but this most likely caused her own mental health to decline as well, leading to the aggressive, startling and manic personality we saw in the games.

toko began to both idolise and fear falling in love. while she knew they would most likely be killed and she would have to cope with knowing that the police could come knocking any day if they put the pieces together, she also still purposed her life around being in a perfect relationship because it was now causing her to gain traction through her novels.

this only furthered her unhealthy infatuation with relationships. she became determined to find a man who fit her description of the perfect man and would not mislead, use, mock or hurt toko in hopes that he would not be killed and she would finally achieve her dream.

enter byakuya togami. blonde, blue eyed, rich, cold and most importantly, entirely unattainable. he was an ideal stand in, especially considering the circumstances of the killing game (jack’s unique killing style would immediately be found out). she was able to fantasise from afar without ever really getting as severely hurt as she had in the past because he simply did not care to provide her his attention.

jack had two options. kill byakuya and get executed, or suck it up. clearly you can tell which option she chose. in addition, she had all of her memories from prior to the game which most likely slightly numbed her thirst for blood. by the end of ultra despair girls, she has grown a respect for toko, a softness for komaru and even calmed jack down to the point where it’s suggested that she no longer uses her skills to murder but instead fight despair.

in fact, near the end, toko is acutely aware of what is happening despite the fact jack was fronting (they don’t usually share memories, only emotions), suggesting they may have slightly integrated but i don’t really want to make assumptions considering i do not have did and am not educated enough to speak confidently about did.

ironically, the killing game was actually good for both of their mental health’s. i’ll only be talking about toko but in ultra despair girls she was emotionally stronger and more mature. she believed she finally had a purpose other than romance and that she could fight against all odds. she even credits makoto for her newfound courage. she criticises cowards and those that remind her of her past self. she is willing to challenge her fears.

komaru had an amazingly powerful and positive effect on them both. her softness, optimism and empathy help toko’s character develop even further. when komaru tries to give in to despair, toko encourages her to face her fears. toko, who was before extremely afraid and uncomfortable with being touched, is now willing to comfort and even hug komaru. she claims she’s finally found a true friend (that’s actually human, can’t forget kameko the stinkbug) and that she found hope in her.

komaru admires toko and doesnt really mind her split personality, instead just considering it “a bit strange”, which is a noticeable difference from how she was treated by everyone else for it. toko is protective of komaru during chapter two due to her suspicion of shirokuma. later, they even sleep in the same bed.

however, when toko risks komaru’s life for byakuya, they get into an argument in which toko accuses komaru of manipulating her with terms such as “friends”, which leads to komaru showing that she really does trust her.

later, this arguably resolved after servant forces jack and toko to fight against komaru for byakuya. they fight back against servant and komaru forgives her because they are friends, which makes toko extremely happy, so much that she blushed and admits she has never had a real friend before. she thanks komaru genuinely for the first time and they try to become real friends.

toko swears she will help komaru with anything she can’t do by herself, just like komaru would do for her.

toko even stays by her side to the point of rejecting the opportunity of going to future foundation to stay with komaru :)

in the end of danganronpa goodbye despair, which is set after ultra despair girls, kyoko reminds byakuya that someone is waiting for him and he jokes that she shouldn’t remind him of “something so horrifying”. and honestly i think the fact he was able to joke about it shows that perhaps toko and byakuya found a somewhat healthy relationship as friends, acquaintances, or even just bearing eachother’s presence.

a notable addition that didn’t really fit anywhere else is toko’s scrapped execution. “first kiss prank” is the title and it consists of byakuya running towards her before toko gets hit by a roller. that says enough about her biggest fears and how badly her past memories affected her.

in conclusion, toko fukawa’s obsession with byakuya was comphet due to pressure from the media and her toxic ideals. the fact she was able to form a healthy relationship with komaru is hhh and i could talk about them for hours. tokomaru is the second closest thing we have to inmedia stated canon (fuck kodaka’s statement me and the homies hate kodaka’s statement about naegiri /j)

sources: toko fukawa’s fandom wiki, genocide jack’s fandom wiki, free time events, transcripts

[cuttoothed]

For day 6 of @jonmartinweek for the prompts "flirting" and "jealousy". Guess I'm living in this nebulous post-200 AU permanently now!

(Yes, I have decided that they live in Scotland. And also that Martin works for a non-profit that provides resources for LGBT+ youth.)

CW for discussion of jealousy (including mention of Martin wanting Jon to smite Oliver), mild flirting outside of a relationship, and teasing about said flirting. Take care if any of that is uncomfortable for you.

*

On Sunday they go to the pub that Martin’s been raving about. It’s a newly opened place not that far from their flat; he had gone there for karaoke last Thursday with his crowd from work, and when he came home—tipsy and affectionate—had insisted that Jon would love the place, and that they had to go this weekend.

“They do a Sunday roast, Jon,” he enthused, “I know you love a Sunday roast. And the cocktails are amazing!”

“I can see that,” Jon said, eyeing his slightly wobbly boyfriend with amusement. “All right then, we’ll go this Sunday.”

Martin had pressed a messy, exaggerated kiss to his cheek for that, and Jon had made sure to get a couple of glasses of water into him before bed that night.

Now it’s Sunday afternoon and they’re at The Brew House, and Jon has to admit it’s very nice. The interior is a mix of classic wood-and-brass and modern decor, with low-fi acoustic music playing in the background. Jon is pleased when he spots the rainbow flag hanging alongside the saltire behind the bar; not that he would be uncomfortable in its absence, but it’s always nice to see. Heartening.

The pub is moderately busy, but they’re easily able to find a table. Martin goes to the bar, and Jon sees him talking to the bartender, a tall, heavyset man of maybe forty, with graying hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. They're smiling as they talk, and then the barman says something that makes Martin laugh out loud, and he’s still grinning as he brings over the drinks—a craft stout for Jon, a cider for himself—and menus.

“What was that about?” Jon asks, curious. Martin shakes his head.

“Nothing. I was just talking to the owner, he remembered me from karaoke the other night.”

“Oh, did he now?” says Jon, raising an eyebrow, and Martin rolls his eyes.

“He only remembered because I made an arse of myself trying to reach the high notes in “Take On Me.””

“Of course, that’s the only reason.” Jon nods with mock solemnity, and Martin gives him a glare without any heat in it. Jon notices that his cheeks have gone faintly pink.

“I feel like I’m being accused of something here,” Martin protests. “When all I’ve done is be bad at karaoke.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” says Jon primly, taking a sip from his pint. “I’m just asking questions.”

They’ve both agreed to try the Sunday roast, but Jon glances at the menu anyway, in case there’s anything of interest for next time they come here. If Martin ever lets me come here again, he thinks mischievously. After a few minutes, the owner approaches their table, smiling broadly. He’s a good looking man, Jon notices.

“Well, what takes your fancy?” he asks in a deep, pleasant voice.

“The roast for me, please,” says Jon. “What about you, Martin? What takes your fancy?” Martin gives him another glare, his cheeks coloring again.

“I’ll have to go for the roast as well, thanks,” he says. The owner smiles again, taking their menus.

“Good choice,” he says. “Not to be biased, but our Sunday roast is fantastic. Almost as good as I’ve been told our cocktails are.” He winks at Martin, and doesn’t seem to notice when he almost chokes on a mouthful of cider. “I’m Nick, by the way. Martin, right?”

“Y-yeah,” says Martin. “Nice to meet you—or, uh, to learn your name?”

“I’m Jon,” says Jon dryly, and Nick’s smile turns on him.

“Good to meet you both. I’ll be back with your food in no time!”

He sets off, and Jon smirks across the table at Martin, who is flustered and very definitely red in the face. Martin glares back at him.

“What?” he says indignantly. Jon only smirks more.

“I’m ace, Martin,” he says, “Not oblivious. I recognize flirting when I see it.”

“Not jealous, are you?” Martin asks pointedly. Jon considers for a moment.

“A bit,” he says. “How could I not be, seeing an attractive man flirting with my very attractive boyfriend and making him blush?”

Martin huffs dismissively, but a small, pleased smile spreads across his face. “Oh please, I was not blushing.”

“Of course you weren’t,” says Jon, grinning. “It’s rather cute, though, watching you get all flustered. Did you ever get that way about me?”

“Only the entire first two years we knew each other,” Martin says, grinning back at him; his foot kicks gently against Jon’s under the table. “I think you just thought I was incompetent, though.”

“Perhaps I was a bit oblivious at that point,” Jon admits, and Martin laughs.

“You got there in the end.”

The food arrives, heaping plates of roast beef and veggies and Yorkshire puddings, smothered in rich gravy. It smells amazing, and tastes as good as it smells, and Jon eats more than he really should. Afterwards, Nick comes to their table again; he sets down another pint of the (rather good) stout in front of Jon, and a tall glass full of ice and orange-gold liquid in front of Martin.

“I remembered when you were here Thursday you asked for a Hairy Sunrise, but we were out of triple sec. So, here it finally is—and this round’s on the house to make up for that.”

“You really don’t need to—” Martin begins, but Nick waves his protests away.

“Anyone who can belt out A-ha like that deserves a free drink,” he says. “Besides, I have an ulterior motive—we’re new, so I’m trying to build up a base of regulars. I hope we’ll see plenty more of you in future—both of you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” says Jon. “At least if Martin has anything to say about it.”

“Great!” Nick beams, while Martin tries to murder Jon with his eyes. “I look forward to it!”

They linger for some time over their drinks, full of food and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere; when they finally leave, Nick waves them a cheery goodbye from behind the bar.

“Okay, fine,” says Martin when they get outside. “Maybe he was flirting with me, just a bit. You’re not annoyed, are you?”

“No, I’m not annoyed,” Jon assures him. “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of harmless flirting. Not as if I’m going to ask you to murder him or anything.”

“Ha-ha,” Martin deadpans, and Jon grabs his hand, uses it to tow Martin’s arm around his shoulders. Martin leans in close, making a pleased sound.

“Besides, I can’t blame him,” says Jon. “I’ve got the most gorgeous boyfriend in the world—how could he resist?”

“No, that can’t be right.” Martin frowns. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve got the most gorgeous boyfriend in the world. So it doesn’t matter who flirts with me—”

“No matter how bearded and tall and definitely your type,” Jon interjects, and Martin kisses his temple.

“No matter,” he agrees. “Because nobody could possibly compete.”

And it’s not as if Jon had any doubts about that, but it’s still nice to hear, the little sliver of jealousy in his chest melting away in the warmth of Martin’s affection. He pulls Martin’s arm tighter around him, and they walk home in the evening sunshine.

[mindofasupernova]

The Inventor Part 2

Kaz Brekker x reader

Description: A killer is on the loose, eliminating Kaz's informants. In a desperate attempt, Kaz meets a certain inventor that has his mind racing, trying to figure out the complex puzzle she is.

Hope you like it, let me know what you think.

Kaz

A corpse? That's what she wanted? Did she think that he just kept all the bodies of his deceased workers in his room? How the hell was he supposed to get his hands on the corpse of one of his poisoned informants?

One day after meeting the young inventor, Kaz had sent Inej to gather answers to the Y/LN Manor. And just as promised, the girl had already identified most of the compounds, but due to "careless and messy manipulation", clearly referring to Kaz's pouch, she had been unable to determine a specific substance that acted as a catalyst. Inej returned to the Slat with Y/N's message asking for a meeting and a request Kaz wasn't exactly expecting.

According to Y/N, it was of the utmost importance for her to examine the body if she hoped to pinpoint the missing compound not to mention it provided a perfect opportunity for Kaz to tell her about how the poison had captured his attention.

Inej had returned later than usual, smiling and carrying a small brown bag that wafted a sweet and delicious scent. When Kaz had raised his eyebrows in question, Inej had told him Y/N had given her some recently baked cookies. He grunted in response and kept working, but his mind kept drifting back to the cookie bag and what that small act meant.

Inej was cautious but he also knew that she always searched for kindness in people. That snack could have been simply just a gift but Kaz wouldn't have made it this far if he considered all people as kind-hearted. Y/N was a stranger, a rich stranger from the highest of ranks of society who probably didn't care if Barrel rats like him lived or not. Y/N hadn't asked for a favor nor did she need money, she just wanted to know, that unsettled Kaz more than he liked to admit.

He had spent the day gathering information about her, her personal life, hobbies, and all the rumors he could find. He had found absolutely nothing that could give him an insight into the girl's intentions, he had finished empty-handed with the information he already knew: she was the only daughter of one of the richest men in Ketterdam, the perfect personification of a wealthy royal daughter, an innocent and pious little thing that went to Church with her family. Kaz scoffed at that, the defying look she gave her at their secret rendezvous accompanied with her enthusiasm for carving a corpse open proved she was far from innocent.

No, until he had more facts he wouldn't let his guard down. And yet, a small part of him yearned for her actions to be good-intentioned. Stop, hope is a dangerous thing. He had already made the mistake of hoping when he was nine and look where it got him.

Kaz returned his gaze to the papers in front of him, huffing in annoyance, he started writing down orders to get a corpse for Y/N.

_______________

Y/N : One day after the meeting

Y/N was quietly sitting at her vanity, a soft smile adorned her face, gaze completely lost on her new device when Inej, soundlessly crept inside her bedroom.

After Kaz Brekker had left the shop near the Church of Barter, she no longer felt the giddy spark she had when she left her manor. She couldn't blame Mr. Zhang for telling Mr. Brekker about their association, he was an old jumpy man who wished no trouble upon no one. She had left all the concoctions that Mr. Zhang had order, but she didn't show him her latest joy, she no longer felt as excited.

This new invention she had come up with consisted of a music box. But it was no ordinary music box, far from it. Y/N had noticed how most of the music boxes got damaged with time when the metal rusted and the music no longer sounded like a melody but more like a haunted house. So, instead of depending on metal to play music, why not use water vapor. Yes, she had spent four days perfecting the pressure at which each piston released the water so it was a perfect copy of one of the melodies in the Komedie Brute. Four days making sure that the amount of heat the flame distributed was enough to transform the water into vapor but not so fast it was gone before the song ended. And now, here it was, a vapor-based music box with a decorative firebird in the center that literally caught fire, warming the water below.

Mind too caught up on the mechanics of her own work, that, when the Wraith materialized from the shadows behind her, Y/N sent a rain of screws and nuts toppling down the floor when Inej's hand landed on her shoulder.

Wide-eyed, Y/N turned around to face the apparition in her room. The Suli girl raised her hands, to show she intended no harm and in a kind voice spoke:

"I'm not here to hurt you. Kaz Brekker sent me to check up on your progress."

With a sigh of relief, Y/N straightened relaxed her posture. "Why, of course, should have assumed Mr. Brekker would send someone. Please, take a seat. " with a small smile, she gestured to a plush burgundy armchair.

"As promised, I have successfully identified most of the compounds. However, I fear identifying the catalyst agent won't be possible unless I conduct a thorough autopsy on the unfortunate victim. The needle I was given was in an atrocious condition, too many foreign compounds had already interacted with it." Y/N answered, finishing with a hopeful tone.

Inej nodded her head and responded, "I'll let Kaz know, thank you Marchioness Y/LN." Inej turned around, making a bee-line for the window.

"You must not be thinking of going out in this beastly weather. Please, stay until this horrendous downpour ceases." Y/N quickly called back, wrapping her silk shawl around her petite frame, as if the thought of stepping outside was enough to send a chill running down her spine.

Inej hesitated, directing a fleeting glance at the crying sky outside, she resumed to her previous seat.

"Would you like a piece of Cinamon-coated Pavlova? I guarantee you won't regret it, the caramelized peaches are sinfully appetizing!" and before the Suli girl could respond, Y/N was rushing out of her room, the dainty patter of her heels clicking down the stairs.

Her room was exactly what Inej had expected: luxurious and overly grand. But there was something about it that Inej couldn't quite place, her room was tidy to the extreme, all the expensive perfume bottles lined up, gaps between that appeared as if they had been measured with a ruler. Nothing in her room showed a preference or indication of what she truly liked, at first sight, the room would have seemed like the perfect fairytale but now, upon close observation, the room looked generic, hollow, and cold. The spy wondered if all the riches were worth living into a life as impersonal as hers.

Y/N returned, carrying a tray full of fancy desserts Inej couldn't even pronounce.

"The baker proclaims himself a master of crème brûlées. I prefer his fruit-stuffed truffles, though. Mouthwatering" Y/N commented, gingerly placing the tray on her small mahogany table.

Y/N waited for Inej to take a bite out of the coffee tiramisu, after the Suli girl let a soft hum of appreciation, Y/N smiled and questioned: "I hope I'm not being too invasive, but how did you manage to climb all the way to my window? There are no nooks where you could have possibly held onto, you must have an incredible balance to perform such a feat."

And that's how Inej told her about her life as an acrobat, proudly sharing brief glimpses to her past, seeing no harm in the girl next to her. Y/N was more than happy when Inej started talking, she was glad the bronzed-skinned girl didn't treat her with timid whispers afraid of offending her royal title. It felt nice to have a normal conversation, being able to share honest opinions instead fake smiles and condescending words at galas, afraid that if the wrong statement slipped they'll become the next party gossip.

____________________

The morning after, Inej returned bearing Mr. Brekker's message agreeing to a nightly meeting where she'll be able to examine the corpse.

Saying that Y/N was thrilled, was an understatement, apart from a chance to put her brain to good use, it gave her the perfect opportunity to try a device she had specifically designed for creating an alibi while she was sneaking outside at unlikely hours.

Y/N hated piano. Don't get her wrong, it wasn't the instrument, it was the music, her music. Because for an unknown reason, her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own whenever she tried to. She admired the focus and dedication of musicians, she really did, but her mind easily got distracted thinking about her latest reading material instead of focusing on the notes. So, she had created a system capable of pushing the tiles as if her own fingers played the music. She knew it was wrong to fool her parents in such a way but it gave her a perfect cover to go in secret missions her parents would never approve of.

Proper ladies don't get excited over knowledge, much less probe in repulsive matters such as corpses. Look at you, Y/N, what would future suitors think if they discover you all cheerful over someone´s murder? The scandal! Zia Francesca's reprimanding voice resonated inside Y/N´s head. But she could care less about what the whole Ketterdam thought about her, science was her passion, and she would abandon it until the day she died.

Already outside, a navy blue scarf wrapped around her head to shield her delicate features against unwanted attention, Y/N waited for Inej at their chosen meeting point.

The sly girl slipped into view, with a grace greater than the one of a feline, leaving the shadows as if she and the night were one. With a brief nod, Y/N followed the girl into the awaiting hands of darkness. Leading her towards the Barrel, a place where monsters lurked behind every corner impatiently waiting to pounce any minute. Nonetheless, Y/N felt ecstatic, warm excitement pulsing through her veins, a river waiting in anticipation to break the thin modest facade she kept up to let her curiosity resurface in search of enigmas to solve.

When they arrived at a place named "The Crow Club", Inej went to get Kaz and some "others" and told her to wait. Y/N observed the lively atmosphere, seeing customers from different countries around the world when her eyes landed on a familiar head with wild red curls.

"Mr. Van Eck?" Y/N questioned in disbelief, the boy perked up at the sound of his last name, locking eyes with the hooded girl.

Never would she have imagined finding Wylan Van Eck down in the Barrel. She was shocked, Wylan supposedly should be in a music school outside of Ketterdam. Both belonging to affluent families, Y/N had met Wylan Van Eck at several parties. She hadn't gotten to know him very well, but she liked the quiet boy who shared the same look of misfortune Y/N had every time they were thrown into a classy social event. When his father had announced he was leaving to study abroad, Y/N was happy for him although she would miss being silently miserable together. But it appeared Wylan had been doing something far from studying, now sitting next to a tall Zemeni boy with his arm slung around his shoulder.

"Marchioness Y/N, I never imagined...W-What brings you here?" replied round-eyed Wylan, confusion, and astonishment written all over his features.

But before Y/N could respond, steps and the tapping of a cane interrupted their little meeting, Inej small silhouette trailing behind Mr. Brekker.

"So, you know Wylan?" he interrogated in that characteristic rasp, coffee eyes scrutinizing Y/N's form.

"Yes, Mr. Van Eck used to come to our social gatherings."

Wylan just nodded shyly while his long-limbed companion kept drowning shot like they were water.

Dirtyhands humphed in acknowledgment "Nice, know that we are all together let's go to...Jesper, I don't pay you to drink the bar dry. Get your ass down here and let's get moving so our dear inventor can examine the body, shall we?

"Wait, she is the contact you talked about?" the Zemeni, Jesper, questioned. Eyes going from Kaz Brekker to Y/N, as if this was some kind of joke.

"Wylan called her Marchioness? You asked for a royal's help?" Jesper asked, an incredulous mocking smile on his face. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz?"

Mr. Brekker scowled at him and without another word turned around not even waiting for them to follow.

"Well, nice to meet you, my lady. The name's Jesper Fahey," he said, bowing down and kissing her hand, sending her a mischievous wink.

"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fahey. And please, there's no need for formalities, just call me Y/N." she comforted, as they finally reached the others. Glancing at the rest while finishing her last statement, prompting the rest to call her by her first name.

________

Kaz

Y/N radiated waves of elation, her whole face lighting up at the thought of an adventure, a star amid the tumultuous dark waters of Ketterdam helping him find his way to the shore.

Kaz wore an amused expression at Y/N's amused gaze roaming the dirty streets of the Barrel, a new unknown world full of carnage and sins. She isn't fit for the Barrel thought Kaz, her eyes dancing in amusement at every little detail that caught her interest despite her efforts to put on a serious face and regal posture. She probably saw wonderous adventures while Kaz saw the Barrel for what it really was: a ravenous, savage beast waiting to swallow the weakest whole and drain the lives of the ones who survived its ghastly bites. And somehow the concept that she didn't belong in this world, his world, made Kaz's heart wrenched a little.

During their walk, Kaz shared the details about the latest killer on the loose and his dead informants, all the while, Y/N remained quiet, evaluating every one of his words.

When they arrived at an abandoned building, a single man was stationed outside, leaning on the tainted wall with a tired look in his eyes. Kaz nodded at the guard who gave him a set of keys and trotted out of sight. Kaz guided them inside, careful no prying eyes had followed them. Kaz turned on the lights, briefly disconcerting his companions, and pointed to a table with a big bulk covered by a dirty cloth.

"As you requested, the unfortunate victim" announced Kaz as Y/N placed a small suitcase she'd brought with her forensic equipment and tenderly pried the cloth covering the thing that once had been alive.

Y/N didn't bat an eyelash when she saw the corpse's face, not even when Jesper started gagging or when Inej turned around and started quietly mumbling prayers to her saints. Kaz focused on her face, the calm inquisitive look of a scientist, he had expected a gasp at least. Kaz was impressed by her cool analytical demeanor when a simple glimpse of the man was enough to send Kaz back to the ocean, rotting flesh beneath his fingertips. Kaz shuddered at the thought, forcing down the vomit rising in his throat.

"If you need an assistant, Jesper is willing to help" Kaz stated, stabilizing his voice so it wouldn't show his true feelings.

"What?! Me? Umm..no...I...Helping isn't a Jesper talent." Mr. Fahey said, a fearful look in his eyes, face white as a sheet. Kaz hoped he didn't look as terrified as him.

Y/N stopped her scan, looked up at the two boys, and with a small smile spoke: "I appreciate it, but there's no need. I'm certain I can handle it on my own."

Quickly discarding her coat and scarf, pushing back the sleeves of her rouge-colored blouse, and pulling long laboratory gloves over her hands along with a white apron over her head, she set up to work.

Kaz stared at her features, as she transformed into an eager forensic, light illuminating her face, falling in the right places giving her an otherwordly glow. Rebellious strands of hair framing her forehead, a pink hue staining her cheeks indicating her joyous state. The sight before him would have put any masterpiece to shame, Kaz wondered how she could stare at a corpse and find glee in such a morbid image. But Kaz liked it, the brilliant gleam her eyes portrayed, her childish joy at the promise of adventure.

The spell was broken when she started pulling out scalpels, syringes, and other items Dirtyhands couldn't bother to learn the name of. Pulling the flesh taught beneath her fingers, Y/N made a Y incision, skin splaying open.

Cold lifeless hands gripped Kaz's throat. his brother's icy whispers brushing his skin. He turned his head away and as if perceiving his discomfort, Y/N's bewitching doe eyes stared back at him.

"You can wait outside if you prefer to, I'll notify you when I'm done." her gentle voice reached and Kaz couldn't have been more grateful.

With a sharp shake of his head, Kaz limped towards the exit, Jesper, and Inej quickly following his movements.

--------

After Y/N finished, she eagerly started explaining her findings, a prideful gleam emanating from her.

"Well, Mr. Brekker I must admit this case is a peculiar one. The simplest ones always prove to be the most challenging."

"Here I thought that after years of fancy tea reunions you'd know the meaning of a vast number of words. I'll be sure to buy you a thesaurus." mocked Kaz, a wolfish smirk creeping onto his face.

The inventor frowned at his comment, racing her chin higher, and started her rant, thoughts racing to prove her point.

"Oh no, Mr. Brekker do not confuse simple and easy. Simple is straightforward, plain facts to the observer. Ordinary details are hard to pinpoint, effortlessly found everywhere, which makes it harder to find unique characteristics that could serve as means of identification since their nature is so elementary." Y/N spoke swiftly, pacing around the room, eyes never faltering from Kaz's.

"And that's exactly what happened in this case. As I had mentioned, my extraction wasn't entirely successful, for an essential reactant was missing. However, it wasn't the only reason why I insisted on examining the body, no, a very simple and ordinary substance appeared when I separated the poison: Helianthus annuus or more commonly known as sunflowers." Y/N paused glancing at their surprised faces, clearly pleased with their reactions, she continued, the corners of her lips tugging upwards.

"You can imagine my surprise when I found sunflower pollen as the main component of the poisonous agent. I ran several more tests and the result remains the same, our killer is using these lovely flowers as a weapon. Now, back to the catalyst, the easy part of the equation. This component isn't as fastidious as the previous one, why, you may ask. Well, its vast majority consists of average materials but a small percentage of it contains alloys that are only produced in Ketterdam, that combined with the peculiar way they were fused, suggests a Grisha alkemi made this solution." Y/N concluded, grabbing a piece of paper and hastily writing before she handed it to Kaz.

"There are no signs of struggle, meaning either they knew the attacker or they were taken by surprise. A swift prick to the femoral artery, a clear pathway for the poison to reach the bloodstream, infecting the body within seconds."

"It shouldn't be very hard to find the alkemi. They aren't very popular and most of them are indentured. Here is the list of all the reactants, the specifics, and where I believe you might find them. " finished the girl, looking at the trio expectantly.

"If you don't mind, I have taken a sample to examine more carefully at my house. I'll try to find any details I might have overlooked."

Briskly reading the list, Kaz frowned and then pocketed the small scrap of paper. "First thing tomorrow morning, ask around for an alkemi who might have bought these materials. "

Kaz turned to look at his fellow crows, content with their nods of approval, grabbed his cane, and sauntered towards the door. Her chemistry knowledge was astounding, a marvelous domain of anatomy, and an even more gifted engineer from what he had heard. Hers was an indeed beautiful mind, not that he would ever tell her.

"Mr. Brekker?" her light voice shattered through the gloomy night. Kaz craned his neck, gaping back at her in question.

"Is there perhaps a place where I might be able to tidy myself up?" Y/N questioned, Kaz finally looking at her messy red-stained apron and her exposed arms displaying strokes of red all over them.

Kaz hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring the girl back to their home. "You can use the restroom back at the Slat." The girl had risked her reputation sneaking out on ill-advised affairs to help them, it was the least he could do.

"Thank you" Y/N replied as she carefully peeled her apron, attentive at not brushing her arms against her blouse.

___________

Once she had freshened up, Y/N stumbled upon the young Van Eck talking with a couple. The green-eyed girl was about Y/N's age, a generously carved complexion, holding the hand of a tall Fjerdan.

Y/N inclined her head as a form of salute, "I never pegged you for the rebellious type, Mr. Van Eck. I never thought you hated music lessons that much to run away." she told him in a joking tone.

"And I never thought you were the type to sneak out at ungodly hours just to play detective. " Wylan replied, a grin beginning to form on his face.

"Well, I suppose everyone has secrets."

"You must be Y/N, Inej told me you were the help Kaz so desperetly needed. I'm Nina, he's Matthias and well you already know Wylan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Inej had briefly mentioned them, she knew now that Nina loved food, maybe next time she'll bring those exquisite truffles she had so eagerly talked about. If there is a next time Y/N reminded herself, she desperately hoped so, but now that her work was done she wasn't so sure Kaz Brekker would ever seek her again.

"Well, you have saved me the introductions." Kaz sarcastically glowered at the green-eyed girl, Nina kept talking as if she hadn't heard him.

It was one thing for Kaz to admire her intelligence, it did not mean he trusted her, though. Pieces were still missing to the intricate puzzle she was and until that changed Kaz did not like the way she rapidly befriended his crows, her intentions were still blurry to Kaz, and even though he would never admit it he cared deeply about their well-being.

"You should stay a little longer, we could go for waffles as a way of thank you." prompted Nina.

"Your offer is very tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I should be returning home." Y/N declined, grinning at Nina, blissful someone had invited her for waffles.

Kaz stared at her and wondered how many times someone had done something similar, not to thank her but rather to use her, so that such a simple gesture put her in a joyful state.

"Scared of what your parents may do if they found out the truth?" Kaz quipped once his crows had left the two of them alone. A teasing tone masking true concern.

"Terrified. Someone may notice I've been playing the same four songs for the last couple of hours, always missing the same notes every time and they might get ideas of checking up on me," she confessed, mischief coating her features.

"Good night, Mr. Brekker. I'm happy I could be of assistance. Please, let me know if you find your killer or if my experience is needed again."

Kaz just bowed, signaling for his Wraith to get Y/N back to her manor in one piece.

Both girls disappeared into the night, leaving Kaz pondering what the hell she had meant with playing the piano.

___________

Y/N

Almost two weeks had passed, no signs of Kaz and no visits from the Wraith, well not that she was aware of. Y/N caught herself glaring at no point in particular, she readjusted her expression and plastered a well-practiced look of keen interest, trying to focus on Lady Stathos' rant about the attractiveness of the Viscount of Chagny.

Y/N politely excused herself, with no intention of making a fool of herself if Lady Stathos posed a question related to her gossip.

Too busy drowning in her own sorrow, knowing that Kaz had probably captured the culprit and was happily celebrating his success and no longer needing Y/N's help, that she stumbled forward, barely catching herself when someone bumped her from behind.

When Y/N turned back around, searching for that someone, she was met with a sight she had only seen once in an abandoned warehouse late at night. One that made her mind scream: Helianthus annuus.

Mercher Dupont's eyes were deranged, veins gruesomely popping and blood spilling from his lips, before toppling in the middle of the dance floor, taking his final breath.

[butwhyduh]

I just. Love Jason so much. Even the titans adaption who doesn't know who Machiavelli was, but slept in the catwalks above his school auditorium and watched plays and musicals go on under him. I feel like people really forget that he had ever been anything other than the Red Hood or someone who was replaced. Even in the comics, he wanted to do what was he thought was right. Even when his mother betrayed him, he still tried to save her. Not to mention the ending of "The Diplomat's Son" (which, by the way, I'd love to hear your thoughts on. Do you think he pushed Felipe Garzonas or not?)

Curran Walters' performance as Jason Todd is very good, I'll stand by it. I know it's unlikely, but I kinda want his Jason to get the white streak. I know it's not a canon thing, but I really like it. What I wouldn't kill to see what that first year as Robin before he joined up with Dick was like. I feel like we barely get a good feel for his dynamic with Bruce, which I'm super curious about considering what we saw of Dick's relationship with the Bat. That's another thing I hope we'll get out of season 3, since it's Gotham time.

I totally agree with your opinions on Garth and Bruce. I know we didn't get much of Garth in the first place, but that's more of a reason to go all out on making him look more like the comics. I'm not sure if they wanted to have more of a contrast between him and Donna visually or what? As far as Bruce goes, he just seems really old to be playing the variety of Batman we've been seeing in the show. Iain Glen is 60, and his acting isn't bad, but he just doesn't feel like Bruce Wayne. This is mostly just me rambling and also being very interested in your thoughts (as well as your writing ❤️)

- 💌💋

Ramble with me!!! I ramble on comics everyday lmao

So tw for suicide and domestic abuse in this paragraph and the pictures right beneath it. Okay so the whole thing about the Diplomat’s son is that he was basically abusive to a woman and batman and Robin (Jason) find out. They go back to find her hanging and dead from suicide. Jason gets mad and runs off without batman to confront the man who either falls, jumps, or was pushed off a high balcony. But the end result is that he died and Jason didn’t save him, maybe even kills him. I personally think that Jason scared him off. I don’t think he killed him purposefully. I also think it’s cheap that post red hood writers want to act like it’s an important sign that he’s a future killer. It is interesting that he didn’t save the guy with one of his tools or ropes but I don’t think Jason Todd was capable of murder before he died. That’s part of why if was so tragic is that he was a kind hood hearted Robin turned into a murderer. Not that he was doomed and corrupt from the start.

And this picture just shows his passionate he was for protecting women in general.

I do think Curren Walters does a good job playing Jason/Robin too. Give us a little bit more of innocent naive robin so that the impact of his death is greater would certainly be nice. I hope they really go all out on things in Gotham so that next season they can go somewhere else with the Titans.

I’ve always had mixed feelings in the streak in Jason’s hair. On one hand it’s a little anime main character but on the other hand it finally gives me more info to tell which bat is which because in the comics it gets hard with multiple black haired blue eyed white guys wearing black.

I’m worried about Tim drake in titans tbh. I like the actor choice and everything but please don’t make him poor and angry and other racist stereotypes. He’s rich in canon and poc can be rich. It’s literally important to his backstory that he was a neglected rich kid.

I actually liked the character they called Garth even tho he wasn’t Garth from comics. Like as an original character, he was cute and I liked the thing with Donna even tho, from the comics, that’s mad confusing but whatever.

And yeah, I’ll have to get used to the Bruce Wayne. His hallucination dancing was pretty funny.

[racheloveyunho]

Till Death do us part - 2

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, smut, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2237

TW series: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

TW chapter: Body shaming, reader being forced into a marriage, character got slapped, swearing, threats.

I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

---------

Chapter 2

2 years after.

---------

Days and months went by so fast, I didn't even see them go by.

It has already been two years since my first meeting with San and since then, I didn't met him again. However, he was still on my mind, from the moment I woke up tired in the morning until the moment my head was hitting the pillow at night.

I just couldn't stop myself from thinking about him, his voice, his gaze, his touch, and the shivers he gave me when his mouth had come close to my ear.

"Hey sis’, what is going on? You had been absent-minded for a while and I still don't know why" Jin said with a hint of worry in his voice before he looked around, checking the surroundings to make sure we were alone "Is it because of dad?" he asked.

For the first time since our mother passed away, dad was at home for a whole month without any explanation. He was now working from home and even though It was something I dreamed of a few years ago, it was now so stuffy, I couldn’t breathe properly in my own house. Every single time I went outside of the comfort of my room, I silently prayed not to meet him, hoping that our house was big enough to let me avoid him.

"I'm fine but I'll be better if he wasn't around" I shrugged while looking at my plate "I'm not hungry today" I nonchalantly played with my food.

"Please force yourself and eat a little, you loosed too much weight recently" he furrowed his eyebrows with true concern in his soft brown eyes.

"I'm fine Jin, really! No need to worry for me" I stood up but felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my track.

I turned around and saw my dad with his usual stern expression "Sit down." he calmly ordered.

I sat down without a word, I knew I was about to be lectured one more time.

"Why are you not eating?" my dad asked, voice sounding more as a threat than a question.

"Not hungry" I simply answered.

A long silence settled in the dining room, Jin and I were looking down, trying to avoid any eye contact with the man we referred to as our dad. I laughed internally at the situation, wondering if the kids in other families were afraid of their parents too.

"You don't have to eat if you don't want to, men love slim girls so it'll be good for you to start a diet." He stated, unbothered by the awkward silence.

I was annoyed by his remark 'how dare he' I thought 'Is he thinking my body is his?'

"I'll be dumb if I'd choose a man who loves me just for my body, I will not change anything for anyone" I retorted, Jin nodding in approval, visibly proud of me. But, my father didn’t seem pleased at all by my answer and my rebellious behavior.

"Well, I wasn't talking about any random man, but about your fiancé. He likes slim girls." my dad crossed his arms.

I shot a glance back at my father with wide eyes, he was smirking over my shocked expression, feeling visibly satisfied by the way he made me go silent.

"My fiancé? What are you talking about? I never had a boyfriend in my whole life, how could I have a fiancé?" I shouted, standing up from my chair which quickly and loudly fell on the ground.

"I chose a good boy for you, he is the son of a rich politician who will be useful to me and the future of my company. In two months, when you'll turn 20, you will marry him" he said, not sparing a glance at me as he busily taped on the screen of his new expensive phone.

My mouth was now wide open, and so was my brother's.

Jin stood up angrily, it was the first time I ever saw him defy our father's authority. His brown eyes who always seemed so soft to me were now darker than ever. The anger in his body was showing with his tensed muscles and the vein in his forehead that was angrily popping up. His jaw was so tight, I swore he could have been able to break his own teeth.

"What to do you mean she will marry him? Are you not concerned about your daughter's happiness? Can't you stop thinking about your work and think more about your family instead, for at least once in your life? That's why mom died! You-..." Jin got slapped by my father before he could even finish his sentence. Our father’s face was red and rage was visible through his eyes.

I gasped and kneeled myself to my brother's side, the impact was so hard that he was now laying on the ground, his right hand hiding his red cheek. Jin shot a death stare up at my father who was still standing in front of us.

"I heard that you want to integrate the Seoul national university, Y/N. You will need money for that, right? If you marry this man, I'll give you all the money you want. If not, you can already say goodbye to this dream of yours." he told me with a harsh voice "Think well cause your birthday is coming up" he added before exiting the room.

I collapsed on the floor, tears were stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. Jin hugged me tightly and patted my back, whispering sweet nothings to my ear to comfort me the best he could.

I hid my head on his neck and cried silently, I hated this, hated this situation, hated this life. I was like a bird trapped in a silver cage.

I ate nothing for the rest of the day after my dad had announced my upcoming wedding.

I still couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. How come a father could do this to his only daughter? Wasn't he supposed to love and cherish me?

It was Saturday and after a lazy morning, I finally stood up to do my daily routine. I put the prettiest dress I had on my dressing and put natural makeup on. I tried my best to cover up my dark circles and hide the exhaustion in my face caused by a long night of crying.

Today, my best friend Hana and I, planned to hang out together for a shopping day. It was the best way for me to think about something else than my current situation.

I took a look at my phone and saw her message "Hey honey, I'm waiting in front of your house~" I read before smiling and joining her outside the house, in front of the big gateway.

"Wow, you are stunning! Why is that? You're going to meet this San again?" She smiled widely.

Hana is the first friend I ever made in my life, I first met her when I was just 6 years old and she always stayed by my side even when I went through hard times. Her cheerful personality and her warm smile made her easy to get along with, she was the best at socializing, she was literally a burst of energy by herself and never failed to make me crack up a smile even when I wasn’t in a good mood. She made everyone feel attracted to her, she wasn’t only nice and outgoing but beautiful and funny as well. Her short and messy hair were completing her chubby cheeks and her brown eyes. Her tall frame and perfect curves made everyone drool over her, men and women.

She knew everything about my life. When something happened to me, she was the first one I talked to.

"I already told you! I know nothing about him, I don't even have his phone number, how could I meet him?" I pouted before laughing playfully.

We took the first bus we saw and headed downtown.

"It's a shame he isn't on any social media" she whined loudly "Dude, don't get me started" I answered, almost complaining.

During the bus ride, I talked once again about how I felt about San and the gorgeous charisma he had. Hana listened to me as if it was the first time I talked about this whilst I already told her a hundred times before.

Within ten minutes, we had reached our destination.

"Y/N! Look at this! I'm sure this top will fit you perfectly" I heard Hana yelling from the other side of the shop.

Everyone looked at us, some customers were judging us silently while others smiled, probably finding amusement in my friend’s behavior.  I apologized to the other customers for the noise and quickly went to my friend's side, slightly embarrassed even though I was used to it. Hana didn't know the word "silent".

After 3 hours of shopping, I went outside to eat ice cream with Hana. We moved to a quiet spot with no one around. The weather was nice, it was a sunny day and I let myself relax under the comfortable heat.  I always liked rainy days better but I liked to feel the sun against my skin from time to time.

"I'm sorry to say this Y/N, but your father is truly an asshole" Hana swore between her teeth after I told her what happened at home the previous day.

"I don't know what I'm going to do about this. Is it better to agree and then divorce this guy? But my dad is well-known, he always will find a way to keep me under his grip, no matter what I do. I feel completely useless and trapped, I can’t find a good way to escape from this" I spoke in a low tone, sadness filling my voice the more I talked.

I sighed, concerned by the situation I was into. Hana gently rubbed my back to give me some comfort while my head was on her shoulder. We stayed silent for a few minutes, both of us didn’t know what to say because we both knew that there was no way I could escape my fate.

"Excuse me, are you Kim Y/N?"

I turned around to see who had called my name. In front of me stood was a well-dressed man, a bit older than me with a confident look. He wasn't especially handsome, but he wasn't unpleasant to look at. He had this classic Korean vibe one could find everywhere here in Korea.

"Yes? Who are you?" I politely asked.

He took my hand in his own, making me stand up from the bench I was sitting in. Soon after, he put a slight kiss on the back of my hand.

"What the hell?" I shouted and took my hand off his.

It wasn't in our culture to do something like this so I first assumed he had grown up abroad but honestly, from what I knew, even in the USA or Europa no one kissed a perfect stranger met in the street less than ten seconds ago.

"Who the heck are you?" Hana jumped between the man and me.

"I'm Hwang Jinyoung, her future husband" he simply stated, a smirk on his face.

"I never agreed on that." I frowned my eyebrows at his statement.

"What do you mean you never agreed? Your father told us that you were glad to be my future wife" The man seemed truly surprised or at least, he was pretending well to be.

"He lied!" I yelled out, the anger taking over me while I clenched my fists, nails finding their way onto y skin.

I was angry that my father had one more time, talked for me without my consent. My body was shaking from anger while the man laughed at my reaction.

"Move, you're in my way" He suddenly stopped laughing and violently pushed Hana to the ground.

My eyes opened wide from the shock. I was about to check on Hana to be sure she wasn't hurt but Jinyoung grabbed my wrist and pulled me in his chest.

"Why are you so angry? I will take good care of you!" he chuckled.

"Let me go!" I screamed against him, feeling the tears tingling my eyes.

I suddenly felt a strong arm around my waist which encircled me from behind.

"Holy shit." Hana gasped when she saw the handsome man who was protectively hugging me.

I had no need to look back, I already knew who it was. This touch and this warmness were simply unforgettable.

"If you don't let her go in the next five seconds, I'll blow your hands off." the voice behind me growled against Jinyoung.

The beating of my heart quickened. For the past two years I had dreamed about him every night and now, I was finally able to see him again.

"San!" I shouted happily, finally looking to the handsome boy. He smiled back atme but his expression became cold again as he stared at Jinyoung. My so-called husband finally let my wrist go and hardly swallowed his spit.

"Y-you! What are you doing here?" he asked with a shaking voice. I had no doubt about the fact that he knew who San was and that he probably knew him better than I did.

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Edit: Guys, I'm so surprised, I didn't think I would get so many likes for this series, I just uploaded it two days ago after all lol but I'm glad! The next chapter is already done but I'll wait a bit before uploading it, maybe next week? Anyways, thank you again!

Tag list:

@hijirikaww @pinkchampagne2

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Finally starting to get somewhere!! I just started writing chapter 4, so it might take a bit longer before I upload again. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter in the meanwhile.

Thank you for reading! Just send me an ask if you want to be added to my taglist :) 

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

The next morning went by in a blur. They had moved everything to Wylan’s house on Geldstraat. Kaz was right. It would’ve been too suspicious if they had left for the party from the barrel. Questions about the job were being thrown from one person to the next. Various answers about cues and schedules flying in every direction.

“Wait, what time are we supposed to get to the party again?”

“Quarter after 6 bells, Jesper!” Yelled Wylan running by with an armful of party clothes.

“Nikolai and I are getting there at 6 bells. That way it won’t look like we know each other.” Y/N had been heading off in the opposing direction.

“Wylan! You forgot your jacket in the music room” Kaz’s raspy voice was easily recognizable above the others.

“I’ll go ahead and scout for the best location for you to hide to summon the storm. I’ll come get you at a quarter to 8 bells.”

Nikolai had to admire the crows’ ability to understand each other and get the job done in such chaos. They were running back and forth in every direction trying to get everything ready. Even Zoya seemed at ease discussing the plan with Inej. He needed this job to succeed. He needed to guarantee his country’s future. Once he was done dealing with this newest threat from Fjerda…? He’d like to work with the crows again. He felt much freer. Maybe it could become a side hustle for him and Zoya. It would give them a nice break from ruling a country.

He felt a soft hand rest on his arm. “Hey, we should probably go get ready for the party. We’ll meet here at 5 bells? That way we can go over last-minute details and head over.” She was smiling up at him. Her smile was soft as if she could tell he was anxious. He let his eyes trail over her tailored face and couldn’t help but miss her true features once more.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then, my darling.” He pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles and watched her disappear up the vast staircase.

---

Nikolai made his way to the room Wylan had so graciously offered him that morning. It was not his room at the Grand Palace, but it was much nicer than the one he’d had at the slat. He took his time putting on the rich merch’s clothes Kaz had picked out for him. He was still in awe of the work Y/N had done on him. The young king found himself unavoidably staring at himself in the mirror mounted to his wall. He finished buttoning up his shirt and folded his suit jacket on his arm. It was almost 5 bells. He knew he should make his way back to the mansion’s parlor.

Nikolai had barely sat in one of the large armchairs when an appreciative whistle sounded on his left. He followed Jesper’s gaze to the stairs. Y/N’s dress accentuated her new body in all the right places. Nikolai couldn’t help but think it would’ve suited her even better before the tailoring.

“No one warned me I’d have to fight off every man who lays eyes on my wife.” He complained.

He watched as Inej and Zoya approached Y/N. The women shared a few whispered comments before they lead Y/N to him. He could’ve sworn he saw the girl’s cheeks turn red. He had to put up a lot more effort than he was used to in schooling his own features. The way the dress moved along to the sway of her hips, with every step she took, made his brain go blank. He imagined the way it would’ve been even more sensual with her natural curves. Maybe he could convince her to wear the gown again once she’d tailored them both back to normal. His mind was racing with images of her, twirling in his arms, wearing that damned dress.

“Anything you want to go over before we get going?” She was looking at him expectantly, her eyes bright, her tailored lips stretched in a small smile.

His mouth felt dry. All eyes were on him. He had to fight to kick start his brain again. “Nope, I think we’re ready.” He offered her a hand, his natural charm coming back to him. “Shall we, my darling wife?”

She took his hand and they headed for the door leading to the elegant boathouse. “No mourners” she called over her shoulder.

A unified “No funerals” rang out behind them. Nikolai made a mental note to ask them what the saying meant, at some point, when he wasn’t so distracted by the beautiful Grisha on his arm.

---

They’d taken a small, polished boat to make their way to councilman Van Verent’s house. It had only taken a few minutes for them to reach the sophisticated boathouse on the councilman’s property. A Stadwatch officer had taken their invitation before guiding them to the stylishly decorated mansion. Flowers from every guest’s country were arranged in beautiful crystal vases matching the colourful silk ribbons adorning the banister. As they entered the main hall, they were stunned by the sheer number of guests already in attendance. The main floor was filled with dignitaries from Kerch, Novyi Zem, Shu Han, Fjerda, and the Wandering Isle. Nikolai noticed the absence of anyone representing his country. Good, he thought, it’ll make the job easier.

To his dismay, Y/N was already catching the eye of a few men standing off to the sides of the room. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, pulling her closer, sending the interested parties a nasty look. He felt her breath hitch but didn’t release his hold on her body. She was his wife. Anyone who wanted to get to her would have to go through him. Nikolai was surprised by the jealousy he felt. He was usually in control of his feelings, always choosing to be pragmatic rather than emotional. He knew they had to put on a convincing act. He still wasn’t supposed to be this possessive of a girl he’d only met a few days ago, right? All the Saints and their mothers, Zoya will murder me if she finds out about this.

Y/N had maneuvered them towards a group of Zemeni dignitaries, quickly engaging in easy conversation with one of the wives. Nikolai used the opportunity to present their made-up business proposal to a few interested parties, promising to send them more information as soon as they went back home to the Wandering Isle.

They navigated group after group of foreign and domestic dignitaries for about an hour. He had to admit Kaz had done a wonderful job when creating their false identities, but he was tired of the constant mindless chattering. How lucky, he thought, the dance floor seems very appealing right about now.

He leaned in close, letting his lips brush against Y/N’s ear, interrupting her conversation. “You are doing a fantastic job, my love.” He felt her shiver against him. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of business partners once you’re done here. Now, however, I would very much like to dance with my beautiful wife.” She looked at him, surprise evident in her deep brown eyes. Nikolai smirked; he could get used to this. He offered her a hand before guiding her swiftly to the dance floor.

He felt men staring, once again, at ‘his wife’ as they graciously made their way to the middle of the floor. The small orchestra started playing a beautiful soft song, perfect for a romantic moment between lovers. Nikolai rested his right hand on the small of Y/N’s back, pulling her close, keeping her hand tightly in his own. He felt her free hand gently come to rest on his shoulder. His heart beating more quickly than he would’ve liked. Why am I so nervous? She was gazing up at him, a gentle smile gracing her lips. He swallowed hard. Nikolai had never felt more grateful for the dance lessons he’d taken as a child. He’d only done it to please his mother. He had to admit he was glad they were paying off now. To anyone watching them, they simply looked like newlyweds, madly in love, eager to share a dance.

They turned elegantly, in time with the slow music, their bodies completely in sync. Their breathing even, their steps well-balanced. The deep green skirts of her dress following every graceful movement they made. She followed his lead perfectly as if they’d been partners for years. She seemed to trust him completely, showing him how safe she felt in his arms. Time slowed for a moment. Nikolai found himself forgetting all about the job, about the plans they had to steal, even about his country. He wanted to stay in this moment, holding the talented Grisha against him, forever.

The sound of applause brought him out of his reverie. He took in their surroundings. Y/N looked as surprised as he felt. Her eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He had no idea how long they had been dancing, how many songs had been played. It dawned on him that they were the cause of the applause. People had stopped dancing and talking to watch the young couple, completely lost in each other, moving elegantly across the floor. He saw Jesper and Wylan, wide grins plastered on their faces, in the far corner of the room. They looked way too pleased. Saints, I hope they won’t tell Brekker about this.

He bowed, Y/N following his lead once again, before walking off the dance floor, towards the grand staircase. They had to stop drawing so much attention to themselves. He wished he could have a moment to talk to Y/N, alone, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. She was playing her role to perfection, all smiles, as couples complimented them on their dancing for the next few minutes.

The ornate wall-mounted clock chimed. Zoya, Wylan, and Jesper would create the distraction in 15 minutes. Wylan subtly nodded to him, indicating he had already placed the small incendiary charge in the dining room. He had developed this newest marvel by studying and modifying one of David Kostyk’s discoveries. It seemed the boy truly was a genius. Jesper would detonate the charge at 8 bells, the sound of his shot covered by the storm Zoya would summon. The fire would require all-hands-on-deck to be put out, leaving the office unguarded. If everything went according to Kaz’s plan, it would give him and Y/N about 30 minutes to pick the lock of Van Verent’s office, crack the safe and make their way back to the party with the blueprints safely tucked in the sheath hidden beneath Y/N’s dress.

They came to a halt in the shadow of the staircase, ready to spring to action at their cue. Nikolai made sure to pull Y/N close, slipping an arm around her waist.

“I didn’t know you were such a good dancer, my love.” He murmured. Better keep up the act. She makes it easy, though. I don’t even have to lie.

She laughed softly and turned in his arms, snaking her own arm around his neck, pressing her lips quickly against his cheek. “Thank you, darling. I am full of hidden talents, you know...” the raise of her eyebrow and her tone so suggestive Nikolai had to fight to keep a straight face. She’s only doing her job. She’s supposed to be my wife. It’s only normal that a young wife should flirt with her delightfully handsome husband. He was trying to convince himself but the playful look in her eyes told him otherwise. She spun around once more, keeping his hand on her waist, leaving him to observe the guests enjoying the party.

The clock chimed once more. 8 bells. Thunder boomed outside, rain battering the windows. A high-pitched scream sounded to his right, coming from the dining room. Other screams quickly followed. Guests ran past them, fleeing the room. Guards came rushing down the stairs, towards the fire. It was complete chaos. Nikolai found himself impressed, once again, by how brilliant the crows were. Maybe I could convince Kaz to help me plan my next military campaign? Or get Wylan to come work with David. I should at least sail with the Wraith and her crew.

Y/N’s fingers closed around his wrist. “That’s our cue.” She said with a sly grin on her lips.

---

Taglist: @power-of-words23

[myrulia]

An Oiran's Sacrifice - Kokushibou x Oiran!Reader

CHAPTER 2

Oiran

Oiran (花魁) was a specific category of high ranking courtesan in Japanese history. Divided into a number of ranks within this category, oiran were considered – both in social terms and in the entertainment they provided – to be above common prostitutes, known as yūjo (遊女, lit. 'woman of pleasure')

Warning: Prostitution, strong language, gore (slightly)

Word count: 4037

Previous chapter ☆ Next chapter

`` Silence, Douma, `` was all the male had said before sheathing his sword once more into his saya. Kokushibou was not particularly pleased with being assigned with Douma to scout the village for a human that had crossed Lord Kibutsuji the wrong way. In fact the only way Kokushibou can really tolerate the Upper Moon Two is by showing his distaste towards him. Being the number one Upper Moon meant he had lots of responsibilities to carry, along with pleasing his Lord, yet those responsibilities felt merely meaningless the moment his 3 pairs of eyes landed on your human form.

Truth be told, Kokushibou cursed himself for letting the demon even see you in the first place. It was barely moon-rise when they arrived to locate the one they were after, and Douma being Douma was not giving the Upper Moon One an easy time with constantly asking questions relating to why he is usually the first Moon gone as soon as the moon is out. Of course, that wasn’t any of Douma’s business so Kokushibou ignored him per usual. `` Come On Kokushibou-dono!~ You always bully me one way or another and I will not stand it! `` 

Before Kokushibou knew it, Douma had already left with his head in his hands. Letting out a soft sigh, the demon who was now alone watched as you finally went inside, seeing as how demons could harm you one way or another since you were previously sitting on the engawa that wrapped around the large minka. The 6 eyed demon watched your retreating form return inside the estate, so he could rest easy knowing you were somewhat safe, but that was not all that Kokushibou came for. 

The demon then jumped from the branch he was hiding on, to a nearby roof in the span of a few seconds. Due to no living soul being out in the wake of the night knowing of the dangers, he could move about from rooftop to rooftop without drawing attention to himself. He traveled around the small village known as your home for quite some time, until he was on the roof of your very own minka. He disregarded the warm candle luminosity emitting from the small window, for that was what he had hoped. Kokushibou was no stranger to humans, he was once one himself. He understands the different emotions one goes through, or the sacrifices that must be made in order to live another day. 

Jumping from the top of the roof down onto the dirt pathway in front of your door, he holds one hand on the tsuka of his katana, while the other pushes open your surprisingly unlocked door. He steps inside the empty room and looks around for the man he was searching for, yet Kokushibou did not expect for your foolish father to try and attack him.

With one swift movement, your father's wrist is grabbed by a calloused and strong hand. The man felt shivers emit from his spine and move throughout his entire body, fear striking his heart. `` Who are you..! `` Your father hollered out in utter dread for his life.

`` Who I am is not of importance, `` Kokushibou stated, shoving the man backwards which made your father land on his bottom, hitting the tatami mat painfully. Taking slow strides to his cowering form beneath him, the Upper Moon unsheathed his katana, pointing the end at your father's neck. `` You, have sinned time and time again, thinking it is to save you and your daughter, but in the end, you are just as selfish as those who have riches. You will listen to what I have to say and answer any question asked. ``

The man before him merely nodded, since there was not much he could do in the situation, a demon, one that looked terrifying, approached him. Kokushibou took note of how easy your father gave in, which satisfied him so now sitting down, the Upper Moon sheaths his sword, yet keeping a firm grip on the tsuka. `` Why do you steal, Fujisaki? ``

Swallowing hard, Astuhashi answers as best as he can without feeling the urge to wet his hakama. `` I steal so I can provide for my daughter. To make sure she has clothes on her back, a roof over her hea- ``

`` Are those the only reasons that come to your mind? `` Kokushibou inquired in his usual stoic tone. It made your father scoot back slightly to regain himself, as well as to not scream in fear. `` There is no ot-other reason, I simply wish for her to have a better life than I did. ``

`` If you want that so desperately, then why do you get caught so frequently? By doing so, you put the two of you at risk of being beheaded publicly. One, because she is your offspring, and two, directly related to you. And if she somehow escapes being hanged beside you, she will live her life shamed by your neighbors. You have done nothing but dishonor your wife and daughter. ``

For once, Astuhashi had nothing to say. The demon who can easily kill and devour your father was indeed correct with his accusations. Kokushibou noted his silence and simply lowered his head, unsheathing his sword slowly. Your father heard the sound of a sharp blade brushing against the holder of the demon's katana and quickly began stammering for words. `` How can I continue to dishonor my wife if she has already passed on? M-My daughter knows very well that we will soon no longer have to live in such wa- ``

`` Your daughter will no longer have faith in you, `` Kokushibou growled out, his temper running short as the pitiful man before him was giving him no results of change, even after losing his daughter to a powerful man no less. `` You are just as pitiful as everyone makes you out to be. You are nothing but a selfish human who has no regard for how many times your daughter has humiliated herself just so you can live to see another day. Not once have you said thanks, instead you allow her to willingly give up her body for someone who sees her as a sex slave. ``

Just like before, Astuhashi had nothing else to say, but the bulging of his eyes once Kokushibou finally withdrew his sword completely, standing up from his sitting form and glaring down at your father who was cowering in fear at the thought of being killed. `` You do not deserve the amazing daughter you were blessed with. She works day in and day out for you, yet you continue to doom her future. ``

Kokushibou took slow strides towards the man beneath him, and all the while he moved closer, your father only pushed himself with his feet until his back hit the wall behind him. Now that Astuhashi had absolutely no where to run, the Upper Moon before him raised his sword, and in one swift swing, blood was splattered on the walls and tatami flooring. A shriek of pain rang through the ears of the demon who did so, yet he held no remorse, for it was his fate that was long overdue. 

Stepping away slowly, Kokushibou finally sheaths his sword once more, all the while glaring down at the vision-less man before him. The smell of blood did indeed overflood his senses, but Kokushibou knew that taking his life would affect you deeply, and that is not what he wanted for you since you already gave up your body to be nothing more than a yūjo. It was irritating that you allow yourself to be so quick to give up everything, just so your bitch of a father could live. The demon knew all too well of the emotional attachment you have, since Astuhashi was indeed your father and the only family left alive that you knew of.

Backing up even more, Kokushibou was about to open the wooden door to your singular room minka, but on the other side commotion was heard, unfortunately trying to figure out where the scream of combined pain and agony originated from. It was only a matter of time until they located the cause, so in natural reaction, Kokushibou fled from the apparent backdoor of the small household, climbing up the one story building onto the rooftop, making sure he was not seen.

Doing what he did previously before the somewhat conversation he had with Astuhashi Fujisaki, the Upper Moon One jumped around in the wake of the night from roof to roof, until he found himself in the foliage of the forest next to the Suzuki estate where he and Douma were standing together just an hour ago. His original mission was to eliminate a certain someone that Lord Kibutsuji was not pleased about, but that could wait. Kokushibou found a mission more seemingly important than that for it can be done later.

Now going back to his original stance on the branch that he had an annoying small talk with Douma, he watches a few other oirans walk along the hallways of the large minka that he had his eyes on for once reason and once reason only.

You.

But, Kokushibou could not stay for long. The sun is a natural enemy to demons and even thought it is hardly an hour and a half past sundown, he still is loyal to Lord Kibutsuji and does not want to suffer torture from the latter. `` You are quite the distraction.. `` the male said to no breathing soul in particular. 

Sighing out rather dramatically, he rubs his temples in deep concentration. On one part, he so dearly wishes to make sure you are safe and sound, and not doing anything you do not wish, but on the other, he has duties to fulfill as the Upper Moon One and not disappoint the demon lord who he owes his demon life to. Standing there, not knowing what to do, he mentally cursed himself for his next choice of actions, because he simply jumps atop of the Suzuki estate, the one he was sent to kill being inside.

Kokushibou knew that you were inside as well, which is why he dreaded the thought of you hearing the scream of bloody murder coming from a room not to far from the one you were most likely assigned. He knew just how much you have gone through in the span of 24 hours and adding on to that made the demon feel a sense of guilt. Something he has not felt in centuries.

Jumping down from the rooftop and onto a generally flat area, he steps onto the wrap around engawa and slowly pushes open a sliding door that revealed a sleeping man who he was after the entire time. Unsheathing his sword for what seemed like the millionth time that night, Kokushibou lifts his arm with the blade in hand, and as he does so, Kenta finally wakes up to his change of surroundings in utter shock. `` Who the hell are you and why are you in my house?! ``

The demon's eyes seemed to widen slightly. He did not expect such a casualty to present itself to him, but the Upper Moon simply shrugged. `` Ah, you are awake. I guess your scream will alert the others of your "unfortunate" death. ``

Kenta looked as if he was about to defy his upcoming death, but nothing could stop the strong arm that brought down an even stronger blade with it, beheading Kenta in the process. Another loud shriek rang through the ears of both Kokushibou, and anyone else nearby that was awake or not. Blood was splattered on the wall behind the lifeless body that dropped on the bloodied sheets that most likely had so many different unfortunate women in them. There was another tinge of pain in Kokushibou's undead heart as his mind wandered to your naked body sleeping with someone you did not want to. A sex hungry man no less.

That small pain lingering in his head would not go away as his mind drifted to you being forced to sleep with nothing but a boy who can not keep his dick in his hakama. It was infuriating to know that you had a high probability of already having sex with someone you did not wish to do so with. His face only scrunched up even more in disgust at the entire family and their way of living, his teeth gritting at how this was considered a "normal" life for them. Swinging his katana again, and again, and again, the demon only creates more of a bloody mess in the bedroom he already ruined by decapitation in the first place. 

By the end of it, there was nothing left but ruined silk sheets, soaked in red blood which came from the now mutilated and cut-to-pieces man in front of him. There was nothing left that looked remotely human, just brutally severed limbs and a head that rolled onto the tatami mat flooring beside the bed. Huffing out, Kokushibou takes a step back to get a clear view at what he had done, with little to no regret. His resentment towards the entire way the household runs was made apparent in the bloodied mess of a bedroom. Although, the male could not stay for long, for commotion was heard from a few rooms down from the one he was standing in. He simply assumed that the scream of death was heard, therefore he swiftly exited from the door he entered in, closing the wooden paneled door behind him and swiftly dashing away from the minka that he mercilessly killed in.

Now that the Upper Moon's mission was fully complete in the village, he had absolutely no reason to ever return unless it was specifically assigned to him.

Then why did he want to desire so badly? 

It was as if something was beckoning out to him, calling him back to the distraught village, but, Kokushibou had a strong will, and he did not want to lose his life to the sun. So, without falter, the demon continues to sprint away from the mountain-side village, his mind set on getting as far away as possible so that he can clear his mind of the small voice in the back of his head that keeps telling him to return. 

Just as the undead being was about to let out his anger through violently swinging his katana at the trees around him, he is suddenly transported back to the only place that really seemed recognizable. The Infinity Fortress. 

                     ◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

Your peaceful slumber was suddenly disturbed when a masculine shout echoed throughout the entire minka. Your body jolted from the futon given to you, your head trying to adjust to your dark surroundings until a warm luminescent light was seen from the door crack that led to the hallway. Hurriedly, you got out from the futon and slid on the house slippers provided by the tayū and immediately pushed open the door, only to see multiple other bodies rush to the other side of the estate. `` What is the matter? `` You asked to a fellow oiran who stopped upon seeing your confused and still drowsy state.

`` The headmaster was mutilated, that is all that has been told, `` she replied rather gently in the hopes of calming your nerves, but you felt like your heart plummeted upon hearing the terrible news. Of course you knew Kenta was the cause of you becoming a yūjo, but the fact that he was killed in such a brutal way really hurt in a sense. Following behind the small crowd of people who wanted to truly see what was happening, you only became more curious as to what was happening. Although you did not know you were going to regret such things.

Pushing past a few people who were frozen in shock, you manage to make your way to the front of the crowd, part of it standing inside the private sleeping quarters of the former owner of the Suzuki estate. You looked around at the walls that had blood splattered all over them, the horrible sight looking even more worse than what you perceived, but nothing could have truly shocked you than the sight before you that caused a hand to practically fly towards your mouth. 

Disembodied limbs.

Limbs that belonged to brutally murdered Kenta Suzuki. Your eyes wandered to one arm split in half on the bed, to the other that was not cut in half but instead handing off the bed. His legs were still somehow on the bed as well, yet still separated from each other and bare, covered in blood along with every other body part you spotted. Yet, the most gut wrenching sight before you presented itself on the floor, being Kenta's decapitated head. His eyes were left wide open from the pure shock of the event that happened. His mouth set agape with blood still dripping out which stained the floor.

`` Oh my God… `` you uttered out in pure shock of the mess before you. It was sickening to see just how much one's hatred can turn into a blood bath. Before you could get another good look at the entire scene you backed away quickly and darted out past the crowd who could not pull their own eyes away. Your chest never faltered from rising and falling at its rapid rate, trying to process what happened in so little time. Just a few minutes ago you were sleeping somewhat peacefully, but now you felt as though you could not even close your eyes without your mind wandering to the unfortunate death of Kenta. 

`` Okay everyone, we will try to figure everything out in the morning, but for now, please try to get your rest. I understand that might not be possible since the murder of my father was indeed shocking. Please, try to sleep, `` spoke the son who you still resented, Hiroto Suzuki. It was surprising how he took some charge of the situation when he was most likely in the middle of getting his dick wet. At least he tried, is what you thought to yourself once you finally made it back to your own small quarters of a bedroom. 

Not even bothering to turn on the light, you kicked off your house slippers and practically flopped onto the futon, yawning in a desperate act to get some sleep, but you knew if you closed your eyes, you would only see a head on tatami mat flooring. 

Even though you tried so desperately to fight the urge to sleep, you found yourself already drifting off back into your slumber whether you liked it or not. Your body craved rest, and so, you finally gave in. 

                      ◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

Just as quickly as you closed your eyes, you felt them opening once more to the warm lighting of the sunrise shining through the much bigger window in comparison to the one from your old living space. Sitting up slowly, you let out a dramatic yawn and stretched out your limbs, adjusting your vision to the sunlight shining through. Even though the sun was beaming, the events last night were dreadful as your mind flashed over the gore filled memory. 

Shaking it off, you got up and opened your wardrobe that you could proudly say held your own clothes, pulling out the things required in order to fully dress yourself for what you perceived to be a long day. The process still was not engraved into your memory entirely, so you still struggled with getting the entire kimono set up in general, but got it done anyways. Moving onto your hair, you decorated your bun-styled hair with the multiple ornaments provided, making yourself look presentable. 

The make-up though, you still struggled with profusely. It took a much longer process to hide your eyebags in view of the fact that they have been forming over the years that your father has committed acts of thievery during the night, and you having to stay up in order to make sure he returns alive. 

Although, those were things of the past and no longer apart of your everyday life. You had to admit, being able to escape from such things felt like a heavy weight that was no longer on your back. You finally had breathing space despite being no more than a common prostitute, and even though that was your new reality, it made you feel pretty in a sense with how you were given such beautiful jewelry that was given for free.

`` Lotus, it is time for your first sleeping experience with Young Master Hiroto! `` 

And just like that, your peace was ruined.

Your first time having sex with someone you never would have imagined you would do it with. You originally thought you would lose your virginity to the man you love, a perfect husband in the hopes of even having a child with him. But that little childish fantasy of yours was about to be ruined the second you actually undress yourself before the eyes of Hiroto Suzuki.

Exiting your bedroom and closing the door gently, you follow Sakura who told you about your fate. She had a proud smile on her face as she began explaining the situation. `` Go in there and make me proud. I just know you will, after all, you have a beautiful body that was practically made for this. Therefore, enjoy yourself. Hiroto does have a rather enjoyable cock..~ ``

It seemed as though Sakura was trying to make you feel better with the playful tone she used, but telling by your tired and more serious face she could tell that you were obviously not too pleased about the whole thing, so she clears her throat and stops in front of large double doors. `` Well this is it, Goodluck and at least try to enjoy yourself. I know this is not what you imagined your first time would be like, but, this is how it must be. So please, try not to upset him. ``

You only nodded your head since you did not have much so say about your fate. It was saddening really to know that this is out of your control, but you chose this path yourself. Opening the double doors, you step inside to see a fully bare man laying on his futon who looked as if he was waiting on you. You perceived that to be true with the way he leaned back on his shoulders and looked you up and down without shame. `` Well hello Lotus. ``

`` Hello, `` was all you said. You did not have much to say to Hiroto, because deep down you were still upset and you being you, decided to make that apparent. `` Aww come on..~ Not excited to help me get rid of that memory from last night? My dear old dad dying? ``

`` If you are going to use that as an excuse to have sex with me and make me enjoy it, you are certainly wrong. `` Even though Hiroto could quickly have you killed. You still wanted a shred of your dignity left because you at least know your self worth. `` I am here for the sake of my father, and if I have to have sex with someone who only thinks of sex, then so be it. `` 

Hiroto had nothing to say, and so since he did not, the male pulls you into his futon directly on top of his naked body. You could feel his shaft press against your stomach so you shuddered at the thought. Getting up slowly, you simply roll your eyes and begin to undress yourself until a pale hand came to grab your wrist. `` Let me undress you instead~ ``

And so, that is what you let him do. His hands did not know where to start until you guided him to the proper area where he could strip you with ease. In the middle of him beginning to untie the large bow on your lower abdomen, the wooden doors are pushed open abruptly. 

`` Young Master Hiroto, I apologize for interrupting your private time with Lotus, but she is needed at the moment. Something terrible has happened. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[ironmandeficiency]

I saw y'all discussing potential zodiac signs for Pascal's characters, what's your take on the major ones? I personally believe Marcus Pike is a cancer, Catfish's a pisces, Din's a virgo, Whiskey's an aries, Oberyn's either a leo or a libra, Ezra's a gemini or a sag, but I lean towards gemini. Javier's the poster child for Scorpio. Don't know about Maxwell Lord.

pedro character star signs

i’m so sorry it took so long, i was tweaking this so much bc i wanted to make sure i got it right! these are just what i think based on my astrology opinions, i hope you like it! 💕 i added their moon signs for flair bc i can. gonna tag a few friends i think may be interested, hope it’s not an inconvenience

max phillips: aries sun & moon. his ambition and charisma paired with the carefree attitude and optimism are an optimum fire sign duality and despite the fact i shouldn't, i love it so much. he has an inner child that he spoils with the riches of his conquests (good and bad) & gets emotional contentment when he succeeds in achieving his goals. knows what he wants & is quick to make those wants known. you never have to worry about where you stand with him because he will not hesitate to tell you.

javier peña: taurus sun with scorpio moon (the real guy is a taurus & i can see it but w heavy scorpio influence). he has his own structure and routine and will fight to the death to maintain it. very work oriented & does his best to rationalize his emotion-driven scorpio moon with his taurean logic, it's a tossup as to whether it works half the time. has a lot of emotional needs that aren't always met day to day & thats why he smokes and drinks and fucks. but don’t let anything make you doubt his love for you because the only thing stronger than his stubborn streak is his heart and its capacity to love you so damn much.

maxwell lord: libra sun with a sagittarius moon. the charisma? attractive and engaging af. oddly adept at chameleoning himself into whatever social group he's trying to vibe with. will draw eyes no matter what because so many people know him & if they don't already, they sure as hell want to. it takes him a while to learn to balance healthy relationships and his work life but when he does, you can visibly see how much healthier he is because of it. normally tends to his emotions in private but with help, he can start sharing a bit more. more optimistic than he sometimes should be but it could be worse

frankie morales: pisces sun with a cancer moon. his caring and sometimes cautious nature (with a twinge of homicidal tendencies) make him one that you don't just casually fuck with sexually or otherwise. catches feelings very easy & makes a lot of emotionally-driven decisions. these two water signs have a propensity towards codependence & defensiveness when hurt. is at his best when he feels loved and is supported by those he loves. emotions are always fluctuating and there’s some trouble with self-discipline (which is not the same as self-deprecation). because of this, he needs someone who can ground him

jack "whiskey" daniels: his swagger!! his charm!! his generosity!! the protectiveness over people he cares about!! this has the makings of a leo sun. this charismatic sun sign paired with his capricorn moon create a living example of the most balanced "work hard, play hard" you've ever seen. has a tendency to set high standards for himself and others & is a smidge more accepting when people fuck up, wanting to help them be better in the future. his emotions are often repressed in the name of responsibility but when he feels safe, he isn’t shy about them in the slightest. very confident in his skills & one of those that he’s the proudest of is his ability to cheer you up when you’re sad

din djarin: he is the most virgo virgo to ever virgo, a double whammy of it in both his sun & moon placements. very logical, disciplined, and tradition-oriented. knows how to bargain and budget, approaches problems with as little emotional attachment as he can (doesn't always work though), and is selfless af. needs something to keep him from being a worry wart bc otherwise he will spend every waking moment fretting over anything he can find. remarkably well-rounded & somehow the most emotionally stable

ezra: everything about this man radiates aquarius sun + gemini moon and you will never convinve me otherwise. he's just enough of an intellectual elitist (the big words and flowy shakespearian vocabulary) for it to border on unique and fun & annoying as fuck. every aquarian i've met has a quirk that sets them apart from everyone else & ezra's quirk (besides murder) is his vocabulary. it takes him a long time to learn to not talk over people on accident (sometimes he does on purpose just to be a bastard), but you can tell when he’s really trying to be conscious of it.

marcus moreno: now this man is what you call a pisces. a softie with a heart of gold that is constantly being underestimated, he has more power than most think. his silly and carefree nature detracts from the badassery he's capable of so it sometimes catches you off guard when he goes into Badass In Charge™️ mode but it’s there. his moon is also in pisces, which adds to his gentility and desire to be understood by his partner. this man just needs some love dammit, give it to him already!! his empathy makes him the Cool Dad™️ bc missy and literally any other kid get the vibe of “yeah this adult will actually listen to me and value my opinions”

dave: capricorn sun, aries moon. he thrives with people who can handle their own shit competency kink anyone? and doesn’t have patience with those who should know better. his standards are higher than a stoned giraffe, and is at his best in controlled environments. has a strong sense of self & a short list of people he would risk it all for. not as outwardly expressive but he does have a couple cues that you learn over time. also knows what he wants and is very meticulous in how he goes about getting it; there are very few places where he takes no for an answer. is a very good provider but don’t expect him to be mushy when you thank him for things he does for you.

oberyn martell: gemini sun & leo moon. he’s got more charisma than can fit in the ocean and sometimes it gets him into trouble. this man thrives on validation from loved ones. there is never a worry about not knowing what he’s feeling because oh boy is this man expressive. he’s a protector and a provider (and a gossip but don’t let him hear you say that). can and will cause a scene if there’s ample opportunity, he enjoys watching shit go down. will only interfere if it directly impacts him or someone he really cares about but otherwise will just pop the popcorn and pull up a seat. somehow has all the details of everything that ever happens but you learn to not question it.

pero tovar: scorpio sun (but specifically october scorpio) & aquarius moon. he’s highly rational when it comes to emotions but does have a temper. he’s observant af of his environment & the emotions of everyone around him, and chooses his actions carefully based on those. doesn’t confront his deeper emotions as often as he should bc it’s easier to default to Angy™️ and let the rest of the world come to their own assumptions. has no tolerance for lies and other bs, wants the truth and though it makes him seem power-hungry and manipulative, that’s not his intention. it’s just his way of looking for someone he can trust with the most intimate parts of him

marcus pike: this man? taurus sun, cancer moon. has a fear of abandonment that takes a while to quell but once it’s gone, he’s all in. he’s very empathetic and observant af, will know exactly what you need before you voice said need. will feel guilty for his baggage sometimes and the guilt will make him recluse for a short period until he’s reminded just how appreciated he is. does not play around when it comes to affection & is very eager to give and receive it whenever possible

my friends that i think might be interested: @scribbledghost @autumnleaves1991-blog @dyke--grayson @max--phillips @dindjarindiaries @pikemoreno @ohnopoe @pedropasscals @forever-rogue @engineeredfiction @bitchin-beskar

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: anything with Jiang Yanli, I’d love to see more of her PoV

part 2 of whumptober 20 (JYL/LXC field medicine)

ao3 link

-

It wasn’t that Jiang Yanli never thought about other men.

After all, she was a female cultivator, and her opinion was therefore one of the ones that was rather eagerly solicited when it came to naming the most attractive young masters in the cultivation world; it was only that it had never seemed to matter. After all, she was engaged, and always had been, to her mother’s dearest friend’s only son, and that, it had seemed at the time, was that.

Oh, her father spoke warmly about marrying for love and not for obligation, but Jiang Yanli had never quite understood what he meant. Even if she didn’t love Jin Zixuan, she loved her mother enough to want to respect her wishes, and it was easy enough to dismiss what negative things she’d heard about him – arrogant, self-centered, impetuous, but of course he was still young, and weren’t most teenage boys like that? – and instead daydream about the life she would have in the future.

When she was young, it was mostly daydreams of having some faceless man (she couldn’t imagine little Jin Zixuan, who at three years younger was barely more than a baby) bring her gifts and tease her and kiss her, then say she was the prettiest person he’d ever seen. The way she’d always heard was supposed to be how lovers talked, the way people said that a marriage ought to be like - the way her parents’ marriage had never been.

When she was a bit older, her thoughts drifted away from retreading romantic stories and to the actual work of being married, of being the mistress of Lanling Jin. In the beginning, her duty would be to first and foremost produce an heir and a spare, to remain healthy throughout the process, and to support her husband as he slowly began to take on the duties that would eventually become his, but later on it would get more interesting. A sect leader could not be everywhere, and his wife would often be left in charge when he was not at home – she would have to know everything about the sect, same as him, enough to make decisions in his absence; she would have to answer correspondence, make decisions, negotiate with traders, collect duties, enforce the peace, and she’d also have to manage the sect’s social scene on top of it all.

She probably wouldn’t have much time to cook, Jiang Yanli thought wistfully, thinking about how Lanling women prided themselves on never having to lift a finger for themselves, and threw herself into her favorite hobby now, while she still could. If she was clever about it, she might be able to get good enough at it that her future husband would find some dish of hers that he liked, something that only she could make, and then her cooking would be something done at his request – a charming idiosyncrasy, an indulgence of sweethearts.

When she got older still, and learned about Sect Leader Jin’s philandering and the iron grip of control Madame Jin imposed on Lanling in order to keep her position in the face of all the backstabbing and politics, she thought to herself that that sounded exhausting. But by that point, all of her childhood daydreams had Jin Zixuan’s name on them – although admittedly not his face, for all that he had grown up into one of the most handsome young men of his generation, and certainly not his mannerisms – and it was far too late to raise a fuss now. So Jiang Yanli studied willpower in addition to trade routes, learned how to exploit social norms in addition to how to manage a dinner party, taught herself how to play people just as well as she played the guqin, absorbed the lessons of both murder and mathematics, and above all figured out how to stand up for herself and what she believed in no matter what overwhelming pressure she might face.

Even though Jiang Yanli was pretty sure that Madame Jin wouldn’t appreciate that last part in a daughter-in-law, especially not one reputed to be as easygoing as her father.

(“Let her be upset,” her own mother had snorted when Jiang Yanli had tentatively raised the issue. “Are you supposed to ruin your own future because she’s a bitter old mother-in-law that’d rather not give up control so early? I may have agreed to marry you to her son, A-Li, but she agreed to marry him to my daughter. If she wanted easy and pliable, she should have thought again.”

“But she’s your friend,” Jiang Yanli had said, frowning a little. “Don’t you want her to be happy?”

Her mother had looked tired. “Once, more than anything,” she’d said. “But the chance for that passed long ago.”)

So it wasn’t that she didn’t notice other men. It was just that there was no point in allowing herself to look, and she knew enough of her parents’ marriage, and of Madame Jin’s, to not want to look.

And then, suddenly, there was.

Her engagement was broken. One could say that it happened at her own beloved brothers’ hands, at her father’s blind dislike of arrangements even when it was one his own daughter had long ago accepted and had even learned to long for, but in truth Jin Zixuan was a proper young master, old enough to make decisions for himself, to exercise some control over his own life, and the first bit of control he’d taken into his own hands was to decide that he didn’t want her.

It was – not fine, no. She spent some time crying over it, and yet more time comforting Wei Wuxian who was distraught at having caused her pain, and the most time of all quietly wondering what the point of her existence was now that she was no longer useful as a marriage tool. She’d never been much of a cultivator, never been especially pretty, never been anything more than average – what was the point of her?

Maybe that was when she’d decided to pick up medicine.

Field medicine was womanly enough to satisfy critics, and yet it was something useful in a practical sense: she could save people’s lives, if she only learned enough, and studying she could do.

Sometimes, she even got the chance to save the lives of very attractive people, like when the First Jade of Lan lay crumpled in the cot before her as she patched him up. So this is the one they ranked first, she thought, examining him with her eyes even as she kept her hands busy, and she was forced to admit that the other female cultivators of her generation had good taste. He was devastatingly handsome.

Kind, too, she soon learned; gentle and courteous in his mannerisms. He smiled often, which she appreciated in a person (if one interpreted Jiang Cheng’s scowls as smiles, he smiled nearly as much!), and he seemed to genuinely admire her efforts at medicine, however rudimentary. Over dinner, which he insisted on sharing with her even after he was well on his road to recovery, the conversation between them flowed easily and well: they both had brothers they loved, which was a conversation topic of which neither of them would ever tire, and they both enjoyed art and music. He didn’t know the first thing about cooking, but enjoyed asking questions (especially after she’d made him a meal he particularly enjoyed, which was often), while she enjoyed the way he blushed when she teased him.

She didn’t think much of it, of course. If she couldn’t keep the husband that had been promised to her since before she could walk – if she was too dull, too plain, too weak, too average to be worthy of an untried young man like him – then she definitely had no hope of catching the most attractive and capable young master of their generation, a dashing war hero and sect leader in his own right.

And then, when they were both laughing over an especially hair-brained scheme they’d concocted to try to get Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian to spend more time together – Jiang Yanli had noticed how much Wei Wuxian talked about Lan Wangji once he’d returned to the Lotus Pier, and Lan Xichen swore up and down that Lan Wangji had been no better – he turned to her and said, “If you were in Gusu, your brothers would be sure to come to visit you.”

“Me, in Gusu?” Jiang Yanli was startled into a laugh. “Why would I be in Gusu? As your guest?”

Lan Xichen coughed. “I had been hoping for something – a bit more permanent than that. If that would be something you would be open to.”

It actually took her a moment to understand, and then she had to raise her hands to cover her suddenly burning cheeks.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” he said hastily. “Just something to think about, if you’re interested…and of course, if your heart is elsewhere –”

“It isn’t,” she blurted out, and had to turn away.

“I’d hoped that was the case,” he said quietly, his voice warm. “I’ll take my leave, Mistress Jiang.”

Jiang Yanli had grown up thinking of herself as the future mistress of Lanling Jin, with its riches and its beauty and its poisonous heart, and then she’d assumed she’d be nothing at all, an old maid that helped Jiang Cheng manage his sect until he finally found a wife to suit him.

She’d never thought about being the mistress of Gusu Lan.

Gusu Lan, which was not as wealthy as Lanling Jin but just as complex – with its own trade routes and subordinate sects and business to manage – with its beautiful and serene landscape, its culture that emphasized harmony and unity rather than backstabbing – with no overbearing mother-in-law that would have barely been tolerable even when her own mother would have been there to hold her back, but would have been impossible without such protection –

She hadn’t dreamt of Lan Xichen as a child, or even as a teenager, but when she thought about all those dreams with a faceless man that she’d named Jin Zixuan regardless of any similarity to the real thing…

Lan Xichen fit in much better to the idea in her head than the real Jin Zixuan ever had.

“I won’t live separately,” she told him when he came over the next day, before he could even say a word; it had been just about the only problem she could see with his proposal. “In another house, certainly, but not an entirely different dwelling, and if I have any children, I would want them to live with me regardless of their gender.”

“I wouldn’t dream of having you so far away,” he said, and he was smiling again, broad and bright and – somehow, impossibly – hers. “Might I kiss you?”

“You may,” she said, and he did.

“Mistress Jiang,” Lan Xichen said a moment later, “you’re the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met.”

Remarkable, Jiang Yanli thought to herself, was better than pretty any day.

[mochis-interlude]

wristbound || giyuu

this is just a little thank you for 100 followers. i hope you’ll enjoy + feeback is always appreciated! <3

↠ pairing. giyuu x fem! reader

↠ genre. fluff, angst

↠ warnings. memory loss/amnesia, minor character death, murder, graphic scenes, blood, language, implied sex work (nothing explicit)

↠ words. 11.2k

↠ summary. the little red bracelet you made when the two of you were nothing but kids, it reminded giyuu that he was always tied to your wrist.

not even your sudden disappearance could snap the wristband in two.

"[Name] didn't cause any trouble, did she?" Your brother, Haruto, was out of breath as he took a seat next to two raven-haired women who were your best friend's mother and his sister. The mother laughed, shaking her head as she already knew what happened; Haruto had once again lost sight of you and you ran away to them. Ran away to Giyuu, more specifically. 

"Not at all. By now, you should know that we love having [Name] over," she said, her blue eyes setting on the two children playing in the garden amongst flowers and butterflies. The mother's gaze softened with each passing second, heart feeling full and hopeful for her son's future. 

Tsutako's eyes followed her mom's line of sight curiously and found her younger brother proudly showing you the butterfly he caught by sheer luck. However, your eyes were glued to Giyuu's face instead of the butterfly. The corners of her mouth tugged upwards as she imagined a future for her younger brother where you were by his side through it all. "They'd make a great couple when they're older, no?" 

"Pardon me?!" Voice high-pitched, Haruto choked on his spit and ended up coughing into the sleeves of his haori. You with that boy? Impossible. Just after you were born, he promised father to take care of you, to protect you! What could a boy like Giyuu do besides catching pretty butterflies? 

Haruto was about to protest, his overprotective side over you kicking in, but he was left with an open mouth and every word dying on his tongue when your laughter bounced throughout the garden. It was a rare sound he usually didn't hear. The most Haruto would get out of you was a chuckle and a half-hearted smile which you put on like a carefully molded mask. 

You were so small and so, so young when your eyes witnessed a monster eating your parents, blood covering the place that used to be such a loving and warm home. Crimson stained the walls and the floor, organs lying about like furniture. Haruto was able to chase the monster into the early sunrise and brought its end. 

Haruto never thought you'd remember that event. 

Yet there you were, vibrantly laughing with the Tomioka boy until tears would brim your eyes, until you used up all of your energy and fell asleep in Haruto's strong arms. Maybe being with Giyuu was the equivalent of salve for your soul. 

Maybe, Tsutako was right. When the two of you grew up, you'd make a fine couple. 

"Yeah..they would," he finally agreed. 

"Here! I made these for us!" Your small hands revealed two crimson bracelets made of simple thread that you had gotten in town with your big brother. A toothy grin stretched your lips apart, revealing that one of your front teeth was missing; pride and joy was written all over your face. 

With wide eyes, Giyuu reached for one of the bracelets, looked at the gift and then back at you. "Why? It's no one's birthday today," the raven-haired kid said with an innocent tilt of his head. It wasn't that Giyuu didn't appreciate your gift, it was quite the opposite! But he also knew that your brother made just enough money to bring food to the table, so he couldn't help but feel guilty that you spent money on a gift. 

"So you never forget me, silly!" Your laugh filled the garden rich with various flowers and vegetables growing from the earth. Taking the bracelet from Giyuu's grasp, you carefully tied the simple thread around his wrist until it casually sat against his skin and wouldn't slip off. 

Forgetting you sounded ridiculous to Giyuu ㅡ why would he ever forget about his clumsy best friend? He didn't quite understand, and yet, maybe his heart did, because without realizing it, Giyuu tied your own bracelet around your wrist. The knot was far from perfect, but it was enough. 

"Besides, you must always remember that I'm never far and always with you, okay?" A blush sat upon your cheeks as you intertwined your pinky finger with Giyuu and brought them up to eye-level, tying him into a promise of a lifetime. Your heart desired nothing more than to spend a life filled with your best friend and your big brother. 

"P-promised.." Giyuu's heart fluttered, his face heated up.

But happiness was a sandcastle. 

It only took 3 months for the waves to come crashing down and take the lives of not only your brother, but Giyuu's family, as well, leaving the two of you orphaned.

However, just because you were a girl, didn't mean that Urokodaki went any easier on you. How often had you found yourself getting knocked on your back, although all you could do was blink? Incredible, you thought to yourself each and every day, even challenging Giyuu and Sabito to practice your falls and build up strength during the night until your body was bruised, possibly even ached at the mere thought to move any more.

It was a fortunate stroke of luck that Urokodaki found Giyuu and you wandering through a small village in search of shelter, taking the two of you in along with a boy named Sabito. He raised the three of you into fine swordsmen while also making sure that you had enough to eat, a place to sleep and everything that came along with a place called home. 

Despite the harsh training, you always had fun and treasured each day you got to spend with the two boys who were like brothers to you. It was the small moments making you laugh and suffer alike; like Urokodaki throwing Giyuu into the river to "become water" or how the old man smacked Sabito's stomach whenever the tension in his stomach wasn't enough for the breathing techniques. 

One night before the final selection, the warmth of flames and the smell of soup filled the space just outside of Urokodaki's small home with the three kids gathered around the small fire. It was a starry night filled with an exceptionally rich moon, the view accompanied by the sound of laughter. 

"They say you are what you eat but [Name] still isn't soup," Sabito chuckled as you slurped your tenth bowl of soup empty until no drop remained in the pristine bowl. The peach-haired boy was convinced that you had a bottomless pit as a stomach, he was always astonished at the amount you managed to eat in one sitting. 

"You say that like I ate a lot," you pouted at Sabito's small poke, but never took it seriously. Shoulders casually shrugged it off while you were basking in the warmth the small fire provided. Although it was far from being cold, the breeze in the mountains was still chilly and liked to nip at your cheeks. 

Next to you, Giyuu laughed and the glow of the flames dipped his face in an orange hue, making your heart jump within your ribcage. Painfully, you had come to realize that as you grew up with Giyuu, the boy made your heart flutter in a way which certainly wasn't fair. Perhaps..you did have a crush on your best friend, but you'd never say it out loud. 

"[Name], you ate more than Sabito and I combined." Giyuu's laughter died down as he brought his own bowl to his lips and sipped the steaming broth Urokodaki had cooked just for the three of you.

Whenever everyone gathered to have dinner and Sabito would be amazed at your appetite, it reminded Giyuu of all the times you'd come over to his family's place and eat with them. Haruto would scold you for eating too much, Mother would laugh and gladly make you another plate while Giyuu would always give you the veggies he didn't like. 

"It's called having a healthy appetite, Giyuu. Your points are invalid," you declared with a dismissive wave of your hand and snickered as you saw your best friend's shoulders slump at your words.

Peaceful moments like these were rare with the training you went through daily and the upcoming final selection made every day a little bit more tense. Of course, you were aware of Sabito's and Giyuu's polished skills and had confidence in your own swordsmanship, but it was a fact that no one knew what would happen in those seven days. 

"[Name] isn't wrong about this." Urokodaki put some extra wood into the fire, flames licking at the bork and effectively melting the layer away. The Tengu mask made it impossible to look at Urokodaki's face, but judging by his tone, the former Hashira had to wear a serious expression on his face. 

"Let me tell you one thing. Just like humans, demons gain their strength from the humans they consume. The more a demon has eaten, the stronger it is." Everyone listened to Urokodaki's words with perked ears and curious eyes as if they could study the information like a book. "Some demons devoured so many that their bodies are deformed. It ranges from mere horns to multiple body parts and extreme growth spurts."

"If they're stronger, their neck also gets tougher to cut, right?" Sabito still cupped his empty bowl to warm up his hands. He didn't sound nervous at all, if anything, he was nothing but confident in himself which was something you admired. Sabito was like a strong boulder that one could always rely on. 

Urokodaki nodded his head. "Yes."

Giyuu saw the way you unconsciously bit your bottom lip, how your nails dug themselves into the ground and fingers occasionally fumbled with a bit of grass. Whenever you started feeling insecure, you'd always bite your lip or the inside of your cheek, a habit of yours which Giyuu had caught on to years ago. 

As Giyuu got older, he grew more hesitant at holding your hand in a reassuring way. Although Sabito would never tease him about it, there was something special tickling in his belly whenever he reached for your hand. It made red rush to his cheeks, but the smile you gave him afterwards was worth the embarrassment he felt. 

"Thank you," you mouthed, Giyuu exhaled shakily. 

You made his heart feel too funny with the tiniest of things.

Footwear left deep prints in the muddy earth, high trees and thick bushes made it hard to see what was next, but you had to push through whatever lurked around the next corner. 

After all, this was the second day of the final selection. 

It was all about surviving 7 days in a forest filled to the brim with demons who were close to starvation. Kill or be killed, it was. 

You were lucky not to have encountered any nasty demon and only had to worry about what you should eat next, but you thought of it as a bad omen. There was no way in hell the three of you could have so much luck and even if that was the case, it felt like those two days, devoid of any fight, took up all the luck you were supposed to have in one lifetime. 

"Watch out, it's slippery!" Sabito ran down a small hill and nearly fell, but caught his balance just in time. He swore he saw a squirrel which he could cook later, but the animal sure was quick to run away from being eaten. 

You were right behind Sabito, but much more careful than he was and slid down the hill on instinct. It had rained the entire day, so of course, the ground would be slippery, muddy and filled with puddles.

"Ah!"

Looking back, you saw Giyuu sitting on the wet ground and pressing a hand to his forehead. You went back, wanting to see what had gone wrong, but as you got closer, you saw blood severely dripping from his forehead, over his eyelids and down his cheeks. Not even his sword was to be seen anywhere; he possibly lost it just now. 

"Giyuu, can you walk?" You offered him your hand which the boy gratefully took, but he couldn't seem to properly pull himself to his feet, his gaze seemed fuzzy, unfocused. 

Scanning the area, you saw a small rock with fresh splatters of blood on it. So that was why.. 

A heavy trauma to the head. No wonder Giyuu was somewhere between unconsciousness and reality.

"Don't worry, we got this." Calmly, you examined the bleeding wound and pushed the uneven fringe out of the way to get a better look at it. Giyuu hissed when your finger brushed over the injury. "Sabito, can you watch out for demons? Just in case."

Sabito pulled his sword out of its sheath and protectively stood in front of Giyuu and you, one arm stretched out to his side to block the view of you patching up his friend. "Got it." 

What were you supposed to do without any bandages? You scanned the area in hopes of finding something, anything that could slow down the bleeding, but all you saw was earth, leaves and some bushes. Stupid, to think that you'd magically see a pharmacy in the woods. 

Then, your eyes settled on the sleeve of your haori. It took you no longer than a moment to unsheath your sword, cut through the fabric and tightly tie it around Giyuu's forehead who groaned in pain. "I'm sorry," you mumbled and finished the improvised banades up with a tight knot. 

You were about to help Giyuu back on his feet, but at once, the ground shook beneath you in rhythmical periods. 

"There's something!" Sabito breathed more to himself, but you were able to catch it with your senses suddenly heightened by the incoming rush of adrenaline. Giyuu still applied pressure to his injury, his sight switching from complete nothingness to what was happening around him.

Instantaneously, your eyes widened in horror at the demon that was trudging towards the three of you and giggled as it swallowed another kid that he managed to eat. 

He was deformed to the bone, several hands hugged its tall, green body. Eyes, disgustingly big, stared at Sabito, then you and Giyuu before his hands began scratching at his skin in an anxious, excited manner. 

"Ohh! Urokodaki is feeding me even more kids than usual this time! I bet the three of you are delicious! I can only imagine the face he'll make when three students won't make it back to him!" 

Sabito planted both of his feed into the ground, the tip of his sword pointed at the demon's neck. "[Name], you protect Giyuu. I'll lop off the head." As soon as the words left Sabito's mouth, Giyuu was about to protest but stumbled back into your body, your arms catching him before he could trip, again. 

"Be careful." You nodded at Sabito and took a defensive stance right in front of Giyuu, holding the blade right next to your head while your hands were grasping the handle tightly. As blue eyes watched your back, watched his two best friends fight, Giyuu felt as helpless as the night his family got massacred. 

All he could do was watch. 

Perversely large hands dashed at Sabito who leapt through those which didn't radiate murderous intent and cut off the hands aiming for his body. He jumped on one of the demon's arms, dodging a fist coming his way by ducking low and sliding along the green skin. 

You blocked a fist with the help of your sword and got pushed back a few meters before you twisted the handle in your grasp, abruptly slicing through the fist from below. "Are you okay, Giyuu?!" 

As much as you wanted to take a look back and check up on him, you absolutely couldn't take your eyes off the battle or else, the demon could get Giyuu or even the both of you. 

While you were stepping in puddles of blood, cutting those disgusting hands off and had to focus on not taking a lethal hit, you still worried about Giyuu. It made his heart clench painfully in his chest. If only he knew where his sword was, then he'd force himself to fight alongside Sabito and you!

"Don't worry about me, [Name]!" 

You were so busy concentrating on what was happening in front of you that you failed to notice the one hand underneath your feet. Before you could even think about using a breathing technique or leaping up into the air, the hand wrapped itself around your ankle and threw you away like you were nothing but a fly. 

"[Name]!" Saito and Giyuu shouted your name in unison, watching in horror as you flew farther away with each second. 

You desperately stretched one of your arms out in the desperate hope of being able to grab on to a branch and get back to the fight, but it was wishful thinking. 

"I'll come back!" You cried out until your vocal chords protested and nearly gave in. The air in your lungs became needles. "Until then, survive, got it?! You must survive!" 

"Whatever you do, you've got to survive!" Hands clinging to the katana you carried with you, you screamed at the top of your lungs one last time. Bit by bit, your friends seemed to become dots. "Survive! Sabito! Giyuu!"

Sabito clenched his jaw, teeth grinding against one another as anger bubbled deep within his heart and threatened to spill like an overflowing sink. 

He charged at the demon with a yell and got so very close to the neck, ready to chop it off when his blade suddenly snapped into two. 

Giyuu watched in horror as the demon used Sabito's surprised state to his advantage and smashed his friend's head in. 

All he could do was watch. 

All he could do was run.

Agonizingly, your body collided with the hard ground and filled your mouth with blood, several cracking sounds travelled throughout your body like electricity. As you gasped for air, you nearly choked on your own blood and coughed it out, a crimson puddle lingering underneath you. 

You didn't know where exactly you were nor did you know how long it'd take you to get back to your friends, but you had to find a way. No matter how much your body ached, no matter how loudly every fiber of your body screamed at you to stop, you couldn't. 

It was through pure will that you managed to bury the tips of your fingers into the dirt and drag yourself to your blade lying a few meters in front of you. Your view was blurry, but you still managed to make out that the Nichirin blade Urokodaki had given you had snapped in half and it had you mentally laughing. 

He was going to break your bones, wasn't he? 

"Just a little bit.." You croaked out with your hand desperately reaching for the handle of the katana. Just a little bit more, just a few more centimeters and the handle would be back in your broken hand, but just before you could even touch it, your arm limply fell to the ground. As much as you wanted to move, forced yourself to go that one extra step, your body didn't listen.

Gradually, black hugged the corners of your view and the ability to hear slowly faded into nothing. No longer could you feel the ground below you or smell the scent of the trees surrounding you; opaque came to envelope you and drag you to the depths of unconsciousness. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks, dampening the earth below you and eventually soaking the collar of the haori you wore. You had promised Urokodaki to come back, you had promised to live a long life, you had promised to stay by Sabito's and Giyuu's side and now, you couldn't even promise to move your finger. 

"Giyuu.. Sabito.. Forgive me, but I won't make it back.." 

The last thing you saw was the moon reflected in the broken blade and the red bracelet firmly wrapped around your wrist.

Three days had been spent looking for you in hopes of finding you only injured, but still alive. Three days without a clue of where you could be, but Giyuu clung to the slim hope of you lying somewhere in these cursed woods, unconscious but well. 

It was that thread of hope that kept his hand glued to the blade, kept his head up and forced his gaze to look ahead. 

Feet had run through countless rough patches until blisters hurt Giyuu, but he simply ran through them until his feet got sore and he would be damned if he stopped running at that very moment. After all, persistence and determination would pay off, right? The strong-willed would always be rewarded after going through hell and back. 

Nearing a river, Giyuu spotted a broken katana as well as smudges of blood on the ground and immediately slid down the small hill he was on. In his rush, he stumbled over his feet and fell to his knees right next to the blade which he knew was yours. 

The thread of hope finally snapped. 

Frantically, he scanned the area for any sign of you being alive, but all he found was the dried puddle of blood and the snapped Nichirin blade Urokodaki had given you just before heading off for this damned final selection. 

With shaking fingers, Giyuu picked up the handle of the sword, hot tears streaming down his face. "[Name]..?" His voice was fragile, on the verge of breaking with every second spent in deafening silence. Giyuu couldn't find it in him to get up, his knees felt like broken mirrors which would stab into his flesh and force him to kneel, regardless of what he desperately wanted to do.

"Please, this isn't funny!" The raven-haired boy called out and tears began blurring his vision, sniffles and choked back sobs rocked his body. "[Name]!" Giyuu hugged the handle of your katana to his chest as he curled up into himself and sobbed into the new day that had just begun. 

Why did the universe take away every person he loved so dearly? 

First, it was his family, then Sabito and you that got ripped from his grasp, lives he treasured more than anything else, people who he would've died for. 

"[Name].. You promised to come back.." The boy murmured to no one and let his eyes travel to the wristband you had made so many years ago. It was physical proof that you were always with him and never far, that he would never forget you and that your lives were intertwined like the sun and the moon. 

"Give me [Name] back.."

It was at this moment that a Demon Hunter of higher rank called out to a whimpering Giyuu and brought him back to where the final selection started, a place filled with beautifully blooming wisteria. 

Everyone came back. 

Everyone except for you and Sabito. 

How was Giyuu supposed to face Urokodaki after this?

Lead flowed through every single vein as Giyuu dragged himself back to Urokodaki's home, body heavy with the strain of surviving for 7 days straight, but compared to the gilt gnawing away at his heart, it was bearable. 

If only he hadn't gotten injured, then maybe Sabito would still be alive, standing right next to him with an equally aching body but still smiling through the pain because they would've made it. 

If only Giyuu had gotten to the river a bit earlier, you'd be swooning over Urokodaki's food and excitedly tell the elder man about all the achievements and experiences you gained. You, too, would be alive and smiling. 

The young boy stopped dead in his tracks as his blue eyes spotted Urokodaki chopping up some wood with an axe which the former Hashira dropped when his gaze fell upon Giyuu. 

Sadness lingered in Urokodaki's nose and was quick to mix with relief of still being alive, yet Giyuu reeked of regret, grief and sorrow. He couldn't blame the young boy. Urokodaki knew how attached Giyuu was to Sabito and you. The three of you would always train together, share food among one another like you were siblings and cut worries in half simply by being present. 

Giyuu was desperately trying to bite back new sobs and tears, since Sabito would be the one to say that a man should suffer in silence. On the other hand, there was you who looked so upset when he once tried to hide an injury from you.

"Stop acting tough." You had once said.

The entire sky came crashing down on Giyuu as he felt his teacher's arms wrapping around him to welcome him home, to express gratefulness that he made it back. 

"Sabito and [Name]!" Giyuu could no longer hold his tears at bay, they freely rolled down his cheek like waves crashed into the shore. It was too much and yet not enough. "Urokodaki-san! They.. They..!" His voice broke a little more with each word that Giyuu tried to force out of his throat, but the lump of sorrow cut through his vocal chords. 

"I'm glad you're back," was all Urokodaki managed to say and he hoped it'd take a bit of weight off the young boy's shoulders. He feared that if he tried to speak any more, he would cry more than he already was, as well. During the time as a teacher, Urokodaki had lost so many of his students who grew on him ㅡ Sabito, Giyuu and you were no exception. 

Sadness poked around deeply in his heart, but it was Urokodaki's duty to make sure that his student wouldn't be overcome by his current despair. He knew Giyuu would be able to overcome his sorrow and grow into a good person. 

But first, time needed to heal the wound which was still bleeding so heavily. 

Giyuu rubbed his eyes dry with the sleeve of his haori, took off the small bag he carried on his back and showed Urokodaki the broken blade which had belonged to you. "Do you.. Do you think it can be fixed?" 

Urokodaki took the two parts into his hands and was surprised at how jaded the blade was. It didn't even cut his finger like it was supposed to and the color had disappeared from the sword like it had never been wielded by anyone in the first place. "That can be arranged. I'll ask Haganezuka."

Two weeks passed when Haganezuka arrived with two swords in his hands and nearly lost his mind when Giyuu said that he wasn't a dual wielder and only needed one blade. 

"You little..! What do you mean you can't wield both?! It'd be disgraceful not to wield both Nichirin blades!" Haganezuka screeched loud enough for his voice to echo through every corner of Mount Sagiri. It took so long to make the broken sword look like it had never been broken and this brat didn't even think about testing it out! 

Giyuu never pulled the blade out of the sheath as you were the one who should do it and witness the change of colors with your own eyes. "I'm sorry." It wasn't necessary to let the swords smith in on the details when he was a stranger. A weird stranger, at that. 

"Sorry doesn't cut it!" 

Despite the strange encounter with Haganezuka who was oddly dedicated to his craft, as Giyuu would put it, the sword was always held close to his heart. It was a reminder of the life Sabito and you gifted him, that he should work harder to be able to protect those around him. 

When Giyuu climbed through the ranks and was able to afford his own estate, the first thing he had hung up was the sword you fought with.

It was 8 years later when bare feet danced on the wooden floor like water flowed through the river. No unnecessary steps, elegance connected every single move like stars made up beautiful constellations which left people in awe each and every time. 

Several women watched with parted lips and sparkling eyes as this person was a constellation herself, someone they could learn and profit from if they watched closely enough. But they knew that this level of accurate and controlled movements required not only effort, but talent as well. 

When feet ceased to float and the music humming in the background died down, one woman in particular ran up to the young dancer, manicured nails squishing the full cheeks together. "Isn't she amazing?" Mizu nearly squeaked with pride and reddened cheeks while receiving agreeing nods from the other women. 

Mizu was an oiran living in Yoshiwara, a red light district. She was rather beautiful with her opaque hair kept into a bun and held together by golden hairpins, her lips painted crimson and fair skin, although most of her pale skin was thanks to the help of make-up. 

"[Name] really is amazing," one of the women said smiling, her palms on her lap as she agreed with Mizu. 

Such praise was often thrown your way only because Mizu was in the room. No one dared to openly point out your mistakes and actively help you improve your skills, so you had no choice but to ask the women yourself when Mizu was out of hearing-range. 

This issue wasn't the only thing keeping everyone on the edge of their seat. 

Whenever a severe mistake happened, that woman was sure to disappear within the next night. Stomping could clearly be heard, you swore the mere sound gave off a murderous intent so intense that it left you shaking underneath the security of your blankets. 

When asking if one of your fellow workers could also sense the blood lust every once in a while, they said no. Apparently, they couldn't feel the immense anger creeping throughout the house like you could which left you confused. However, the fact that your senses were so sharp and sensitive to blood lust made you wonder if you had lived a different life before you woke up in Yoshiwara. 

Actually, you were sure that you had lived differently before finding yourself in Yoshiwara, but your memories were erased. Proof of your previous lifestyle were your calloused palms, the small scars on them which the other women always pitied you for as it apparently wasn't fit for a lady to have rough palms. 

Then there was this wristband which you wore for a reason long forgotten.

All you could remember was your name when you one day woke up on a tatami mat underneath a safe roof with several women in the room. You couldn't answer a single question regarding your past, the years of your life suddenly drowned in black as you tried your best to remember what happened, what caused the pain in your body, but it was no good. 

"Thank you for your kind words. If you'd excuse me." As you turned around to leave for the bathrooms, you felt Mizu's eyes on your back and you knew that she had nothing but love swimming in her dark eyes, and yet, you sensed something much deeper, so much darker lurking within them that a shiver rolled down your spine. 

One woman responsible for today's cleaning stood next to the highly-respected oiran. "Wherever you picked [Name] up from, it's a gift you found her. She might as well take your place someday, Mizu-san."

A gift you were indeed, but the way you danced bugged Mizu. It reminded her of the fighting techniques of Demon Slayers. Filthy. "Yeah. Who knows what might've happened to her if it was someone else that found her.." Mizu brought the sleeve of her kimono up to her lips, hiding the lower part of her face and tilted her head to the side as she watched you disappear behind shoji doors, briefly remembering where she had found you nearly a decade ago.

"Oh my, what a poor thing." Mizu knelt down to where you laid on the ground, your breathing was shallow and your hand outstretched as if reaching out to the sword in front of you. Manicured nails pushed your bangs out of your face and traced the bruises along your cheek and neck, feeling that your jaw was, indeed, broken. 

"You'd look beautiful without all these ugly stains," she mused while twisting a strand of your dirtied hair around her index finger, crimson red lips frowned at the miserable state you were in. So far gone, you couldn't even hear her voice, feel her touch.

Reaching behind her head, Mizu took two hairpins out of her hair and styled your hair into a bun, the hairpins keeping the look somewhat together. You reminded her of the daughter she once had before the small child suddenly died. Mizu desired nothing more than to have her daughter back and you were the perfect fit. 

"You'd make a beautiful oiran, one day. Maybe I should make you my daughter." Mizu smiled into the night at the thought of having a daughter, such a stunning one, too. With her, you'd be better off than with those filthy slayers if the sword in front of you was anything to go by. She could give you all the riches you desired, all the kimonos, money, men and women you could ever want. 

Those Demon Hunters could only offer you death. 

"From today on, you'll be my lovely daughter," Mizu cheered and poked at your cheek to maybe gain a reaction, but all she heard was an incoherent mumble of names she had never heard of. Unimportant, these people no longer mattered. 

Carefully, Mizu picked you up with a smile and disappeared into the night.

The water was pleasantly warm against your skin as you washed the heavy make-up off your face, several colors went down the drain and no longer stuck in place like a mask. Luckily, you didn't have to show your face to any outsider that night, or else the amount of make-up would suffocate you. 

A sigh escaped through your lips when your eyes landed on that red wristband, the threads wet and soaked with water, but still perfectly intact. You didn't know why, but your heart always ached a little whenever you thought about its origin and the possible memories connected to this little item. 

Maybe someone important gave it to you? 

Maybe that someone was looking for you and could help you regain your memories! 

Ah, what were you thinking? Stuff like this only existed in romantic novels. 8 years had passed and no one had ever looked for you, you were certain of that. No had ever asked around for you, no one had ever put up a picture of your face, no one had cared enough. 

Whenever you'd ask Mizu about where she found you and what you did before joining the house she lived in, she brushed you off, saying that it was time for your Japanese class, time to practice calligraphy or dancing, when in reality she only wanted you to be distracted and busy. 

"Maybe I should give up and just live with it..," you mumbled into the towel as you dried your face. At least, you would no longer anger Mizu or make the other women nervous when asking anything regarding your past. 

Having made up your mind, you trudged back into your empty room. No matter how many paintings you had hung up, no matter how many clothes filled your wardrobe and no matter how much jewelry Mizu made you wear on your hands and neck, it was empty. 

You were lucky to live, but were you really alive or simply a shell of who you used to be? 

After countlessly tossing and turning, your body finally found some rest and dragged you into a deep slumber.

Streets filled with people were never one of Giyuu's favorites. He preferred executing his job in the mountains where he wouldn't have to hide his sword from the police and didn't have the stress of potentially having to protect a large number of people if a demon was to show up. 

One good thing about cities was the food. The steaming bowl of ramen warmed Giyuu up from within as the chilly evening breeze nipped at his cheeks, tinting the flesh a faint shade of red. 

"It's almost unbelievable that a demon is supposed to be here. Right, Tomioka-san?" Shinobu sat next to Giyuu and enjoyed her own portion of food. Just behind her back, people chattered away and children played tag with each other, from somewhere further away, she could even make out the faint strumming of an instrument. 

Apparently, a demon was hiding somewhere in Yoshiwara. Every few months, women, prostitutes, to be more specific, suddenly disappeared and had never been seen again. Of course, the rumor of those women losing her footing had spread, but this was as waterproof as paper. 

Those women had never shown signs of wanting to run away with a man. Love letters were never found nor did they suddenly receive a good amount of money or saw someone especially frequently. 

"Demons can hide anywhere." Giyuu's ears picked up how some men asked for some lady's services and briefly, the thought of a demon hiding in a brothel crossed his mind. However, he had never heard of a demon seeking refuge in such business since those places were too crowded to commit a proper murder.

"You're not wrong about this." Shinobu sat back in her seat and put her chopsticks on her empty plate before something caught her attention. What was this red bracelet around Giyuu's wrist? Had it always been there or did he get it recently? 

A teasing smile tugged the corners of her lips upwards as she rested her chin on her palm, an index finger pointing at Giyuu's wrist. "Tomioka-san, did you get that wristband from someone special? I didn't know you were the type to be so romantic!" She chirped. 

Blue irises gazed at the red threads laced into one thick wristband which was usually hidden underneath the sleeve of his uniform or haori, so no one really ever saw it. "It's nothing like that." Despite his nonchalant words, Giyuu couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. 

"Eh?! Are you smiling?!" Shinobu could hardly believe her eyes and felt a shiver run down her spine. This was..scary. 

"..We're here to look for a demon, aren't we?"

Attentively, you sat close to a river, eyes wide and scanning the area for a familiar mop of black hair tied into a low ponytail. From afar, you could hear an old man giving someone the instruction to become one with the water in order to master the breathing techniques. 

Just a moment later, a yell echoed through the mountains followed by a noisy splash and the yell got cut off. 

"___-san really threw him into the river, huh," you chuckled as you remembered how you nearly drowned the first time the elderly man tossed you into the river like a rubber duck. Now it was the boy's turn. 

Minutes of silence filled the space around you, only the water flowing in front of you filled the tranquil space and then, several gasps shattered the peaceful atmosphere. 

The boy you had to look out for coughed up water as he dragged himself out of the river, his body soaked to the bone and what was that on his hand? Blood? He possibly cut himself on a stone underwater. 

Leaping up from your seated position and jogging over to your friend, you gave his back a few firm smacks until he breathed normally again. "I feel like ____-san really wants to kill us," the boy looked up at you, but..you couldn't see his face. It was black. 

"Speaking of dying. What was that on your hand?" you spoke and tried to get a look at the boy's hand, but he quickly hid his hands behind his back, pressing the back of his hands against his lower back. "___, show me!" You insisted and eventually, your friend showed you the cut on the back of his hand. 

The cut wasn't deep, but it still bled profusely down his wrist. Clicking your tongue, you reached into your pocket and revealed simple bandages which you always kept with you in case you got injured. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" The boy saw the upset look on your face, brows furrowed and your eyes scolding him. 

Wasn't it his friend that said that a man should bear his pain in silence? 

"I'm sorry, [Name]," he avoided your gaze, focusing on the bracelet you had once made for him, instead. It was better than having to bear the disappointment in your eyes. 

"Stop acting tough." You tied the bandage around the boy's hand a bit too tight, making him flinch at the pain shooting through his hand. It was unusual for you to be so rough. "I'll always find out if you're hurt."

In a cold sweat, gasping for air, you suddenly sat straight in bed. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, your sleepwear was drenched in sweat at your neck and back, the fabric clung to you like a second skin. Putting a hand on your chest, you tried your best to control your breathing, but the more you tried, the more you could feel a headache stinging in the back of your head. 

Whatever you just saw, it was a mere dream, right? Yet, one could usually hear names and see the faces of the people appearing in a dream, but whenever names fell, they were muted. Whenever you saw a face, it was covered in black. 

They were nameless, faceless people. 

Perhaps, this was a memory? 

"Crap," you hissed as the stinging got to your eyes like a migraine and roughly pushed the blanket off your body as you got up to maybe talk about it with Mizu or someone else. Yes, you promised not to bother anyone with your dreams or past, but this left your hands and mind shaking. 

Carefully, as to not make any noise, your bare feet padded along the wooden hallways, every shoji door was shut and no light was on, indicating that all of the women were busy with men downstairs. What a pain, you thought. Keeping married and single men pleased at night was something which never appealed to you, even though Mizu had raised you to possess the needed skills. 

Lost in thought, you nearly missed how the light of several candles lit up a single room, the shoji door wasn't even fully closed. You finally found someone! 

"I'm sorry for bothering you this late at night, but I was wondering ifㅡ"

You were greeted by the sight of blood being smeared across the wall and pooling right at your feet, bones sticking out from the corpse of the woman who had praised you earlier. Your head screamed at you to run, but your body didn't listen. It was itching to reach for something that wasn't strapped to your hip.

"It's a shame you had to see me like this, [Name]." Opaque hair was loose, red lipstick got replaced by the dead woman's blood which was also dripping down claws.

Mizu tossed the corpse away from her and faced you, slowly approaching you with cold steps. Her pupils were no longer round but resembled that of a cat. Smirking, she watched as your legs trembled in fear when she delicately cupped your face in her hand. "I promised myself to never eat you unless you saw me killing someone. But maybe it's exactly because you are my daughter that you'll be extra nutritious."

Horns made of bones stuck out from Mizu's head, resembling the ears of a bunny. At that very moment, you heard a voice inside your head.

"Some demons devoured so many that their bodies are deformed. It ranges from mere horns to multiple body parts and extreme growth spurts."

"Demon!" You gasped, pushed Mizu away from you with all the strength you had in your arms and made a run for it. Splinters dug into the soles of your feet, but you didn't care. What mattered was your survival, your life, the life Haruto and Tsutako left behind for you! 

Wait, Haruto and Tsutako..? Who..?

You stopped dead in your tracks, the sound of Mizu's traditional heels rhythmically clicking against the floor haunted you. 

Fleeing downstairs was no option. Innocent lives could easily be taken by Mizu and there was no way you could protect all of them when you couldn't even properly protect yourself. Panic-stricken, your eyes found nothing but paintings decorating the walls, a mere fan and a..

A katana!

Grabbing the katana from the wall, you held it with both hands as tightly as you could, the tip pointing at Mizu's neck. 

"You're hilarious, [Name]! Don't tell me you're remembering now when it's too late." Mizu pushed some of her hair behind her shoulder as she laughed at your poor attempt to take her down. However, it seemed like your body was beginning to remember whatever a fragile human once taught you and it wasn't like you had completely forgotten how to move, either. 

A laugh shook the demon's shoulders as she stretched her palm out and let a bone grow from her skin. Mizu pointed the sharp bone towards you, shooting it in your direction with the expectation to heavily injure you and kill you in the end. 

What she didn't expect was the way you vertically cut through the bone, letting drop to the ground uselessly. Your jaw was clenched, eyes wide open with sweat trickling down your forehead and the katana in your hand like it had always belonged there. 

"I don't know what you're saying, but I know that I can't let you live!" Zooming right in Mizu's face, you aimed for her stomach to weaken her, but she was faster. Grabbing your head, she effectively put you off-balance and rammed another bone into your side as if she saw no daughter in you. 

"You've always had a funny side to you, but right now, you're looking like a jester. You, killing me? Not even you are that dumb." Mizu wore an unimpressed expression as you fell to your knees and coughed up blood. Hastily, you ripped a good amount of fabric from your yukata and tightly wrapped it around your waist to slow down the bleeding. 

The demon never stopped you. Sooner or later, you'd faint and die from blood loss. This was nothing but a fool's attempt to desperately prolong their end. 

"That katana can't kill me. As a former Demon Slayer, you should know that only a Slayer's blade and sunlight can kill a demon." A swift kick to your face had blood dripping down your nose, but your palm wrapped itself around Mizu's ankle tight enough to make your arm's veins pop, tight enough to prevent her, a demon, from moving.

"Breathing Techniques make it possible for a human to gain demonic strength themselves. But unlike demons, a human's stamina is limited."

Within a moment, Mizu's ankle was in your hand, her blood flowing down your forearm as you tossed the cut off limb away. Immediately, you pulled her into a close-range fight, but the several bones beginning to stick out from her body pushed you further away with each step you took. The sharp bones left cuts on not only your face, but your arms and legs as well. 

"I don't care if it can't kill you! I refuse to go down without a fight! I'll simply keep you busy until the sun rises!"

Searching for that demon in Yoshiwara was a lost cause. 

No one had any suspicions or those people were just too scared to talk, fearing that they might mysteriously disappear, as well. The tension in Yoshiwara spread far and wide, yet there wasn't even the trace of a demon to be found. 

"We can't talk. Otherwise, we'll disappear, as well."

"Those women are said to have lost their footing, but.. No, it doesn't matter."

"..Whatever are you talking about?"

Excuses upon excuses. But Giyuu could hardly interrogate simple passengers and ask them about the existence of a being which they were unaware of or didn't believe in. 

Frustrated, he shut the shoji door of his home and sighed. 

Suddenly, a shrill clink bounced off the plain walls of Giyuu's home and as he raised his gaze, he saw the Nichirin sword ㅡ which was supposed to be yours if you had survived ㅡ on the floor, the steel shone in the moonlight peeking through the windows of his home. 

His heart felt heavy as he wondered what color your katana would have become, how you would've wielded it, how bright your smile would've been if you had had the chance to receive it. 

Giyuu picked the colorless weapon up, wanted to put it back on its place at the wall when suddenly his kasugai crow landed on the window sill, cawing so loudly that it made his ears ring. 

"[Name] who was assumed to have died in the final selection 8 years ago, needs backup fighting a demon!" The old crow impatiently bounced around, wings already spread and ready to take off. "Hurry to Yoshiwara! Hurry, hurry! " 

"[Name]..?" Gradually, Giyuu's usually calm gaze widened and filled with infinite questions while he was wordlessly staring at your sword. Why were you alive and how in the world did you survive? Why did you never come back? What held you back? 

With a flick of his wrist, he hid the plain Nichirin blade in the sleeve of his mismatched haori and was out of his home faster than the crow could perceive. 

The Hashira couldn't be late. He couldn't be late, again. 

This time, he'd be the one to protect you.

"Get out of here!" You cried to the people who had been very obviously enjoying themselves with alcohol, food and women until Mizu had kicked you through the floor which was also the ceiling of the floor below. 

No one seemed to fully realize what happened, reality only kicked in slowly when they took note of your battered form and Mizu coming down the stairs as elegantly as ever, but the blood on her and the aura she radiated created nothing but fear. 

All of a sudden, they screamed and ran, talking about a monster possessing their beloved lady who was attempting to kill one of their own. 

Making sure that everyone got out safely was a mistake. You didn't even realize Mizu leaving her spot on the stairs as she was suddenly right in front of you, way too close to be considered a safe distance. Crap, there was no way you'd get out of this unscathed. 

The bone sticking out from Mizu's palm aimed for your right eye, ready to pierce through your skull and put an end to the prosperous life you could lead thanks to the demonic woman. In an act of despair, you swung your katana vertically in an attempt to cut off her arm, but Mizu just smirked as the blade got stuck, not even budging a centimeter, anymore. 

This was it. This attack would be your downfall, you thought. 

"Water Breathing. Second form: Water Wheel."

You stumbled backwards, falling on your knees and all your eyes could catch was Mizu's arm suddenly dropping to the ground along with the katana stuck in her flesh. Blood stained the carpet an ugly red, a loud hiss came from Mizu's direction, her pupils shaking and mouth unusually quiet.

"A..H-Hashira..?" Claws digged into the flesh of her palm bit by bit, her fist shook and goosebumps were scattered across her skin. Just the mere aura of that Demon Slayer terrified her; he was way too calm and yet she could feel racing anger bubbling underneath the surface. No, she couldn't let a mere human intimidate her. What ridiculous excuse of a demon would get intimidated by a man wielding a sword? 

Hashira..?

Looking up, you saw the broad back of a man wearing a mismatched haori but what stood out to you was the red wristband he wore. It looked like the one around your wrist but could it be the same? What were the odds of two strangers wearing the same red bracelet? Impossible. 

A sudden sting in your head interrupted your running mind.

"Besides, you must always remember that I'm never far and always with you, okay?" A blush sat upon your cheeks as you intertwined your pinky finger with Giyuu and brought them up to eye-level, tying him into a promise of a lifetime.

Fingers tangled themselves into your hair, pulling at the roots. 

"Stop acting tough." You tied the bandage around Giyuu's hand a bit too tight, making the boy flinch at the pain shooting through his hand. It was unusual for you to be so rough. "I'll always find out if you're hurt."

Panting, you closed your eyes shut until it hurt. Why did you feel like you knew the man in front of you?

"Whatever you do, you've got to survive!" Hands clinging to the katana you carried with you, you screamed at the top of your lungs one last time. Bit by bit, your friends seemed to become dots. "Survive! Sabito! ...

..Giyuu!" You finally yelled the man's name out like he was the answer to everything you had been looking for, like he was the missing piece to the puzzle of your life. Unknowingly, tears freely flowed from your eyes, making the cuts on your face sting and burn.

A quick move of his wrist was enough to flick Mizu's blood off his sword. "Don't you dare touch her!" Giyuu wasn't one to lose his calm demeanor often, but what he absolutely couldn't stand was the ones he cared for getting hurt, bruised, made to suffer. 

You wiped the blood trickling from your mouth away with the back of your hand, lips tugging themselves upwards as you pushed yourself up to your feet once more and stood next to Giyuu. "I'll fight with you. This is a personal matter."

Giyuu was about to protest, tell you to leave this place, but the sharp shimmer cutting through your eyes immediately took down every word that was on his tongue. Never had you backed down from a fight, never had you let anything break you, never had you ever given up. 

Wordlessly, he let the katana he hid in the sleeve of the haori, slide into his palm and handed it to you. As soon as your fingers were wrapped around the handle, the blade turned into a clear baby blue, several shades lighter than Giyuu's Nichirin blade. 

"I'll handle the bones. You go for the head."

Giyuu dashed ahead while you cut your way through the maze of bones sticking out from wherever Mizu desired, her attacks got rougher as if she was suddenly frightened. Good. "You brat! Do you really think one more person would be enough to claim my head?!" Mizu stomped her foot once. 

That stomping.. You were familiar with it. 

It'd occur once every few months before a woman would go missing without a trace. This action always frightened you as the murderous intent in it was so overwhelming that unconsciously, tears would brim your eyes.

Quickly, you grabbed the back of Giyuu's haori and slid to the side with him before several rib-shaped bones dashed up from the ground, their sharp tips shining underneath the chandelier. If you hadn't been so familiar with Mizu's blood lust, you were sure you would've been pierced pork by now. 

Thanks to the sliding, you had gotten close enough to Mizu, giving you the perfect opportunity to chop off her head before she could cause any more pain and damage. "Go!" You cried out loud enough for your voice to crack and swung your blade at Mizu's face to slice her horizontally, the demon stopping your blade with her bare hands. 

"Water Breathing. First form: Water Surface Slash." 

Giyuu had gotten behind Mizu and let his katana cut through the flesh of her neck, the head of the oiran sliding off her shoulders and her body collapsing to the ground. "Impossible!" She screeched in nothing but anger and disappointment at you. 

"You ungrateful bitch! I saved and raised you and this is how you repay the favor?! How dare youㅡ!" Tears streamed down her cheeks while you were looking at her with a drained expression. Bruises and cuts stained your skin, not to mention the stab wound in your waist which was still bleeding. Bangs hid your eyes from her view, the smell of ash was strong in your nose.

"I'm very thankful that you raised me, gave me food and a roof above my head. I will never forget that. But making humans suffer by letting them die a painful death, eating them without a shred of guilt in your guts.." The grip on the katana's handle tightened in anger, sadness and grief as you remembered your brother, mother, Tsutako. All those people who were so brave and kind and dead. "Savior, Mother, whatever you are. I absolutely won't forgive you for this!" 

"Do you think that matters?! You're nothing but a whore I raised! You, too, won't go to heaven and I'll wait for you in hell!" Before Mizu could spit any more words, her head and body dissolved into nothing, not even the ashes remained. 

Slowly, you turned around to face Giyuu, a peaceful smile lingered on your lips as you stumbled towards the one your heart had been missing for longer than you could think. Strength left your hand and the katana Giyuu had tossed you earlier fell to the ground. "Giyuu.. I'm so happy you survived.." You tripped over your own two feet, about to fall, but it was okay. 

Giyuu caught you. 

"[Name], I.." He spoke, but soon noticed that you had fallen unconscious with your cheek pressed up against his chest, eyes closed and breathing so calmly in his strong arms. Serenity was written all over your face, despite the dirt, cuts, blood and pain you went through. You were at peace with Giyuu around just like when you two were children. 

His stoic mask shattered as he pressed your unconscious body flush to his and buried a hand in your hair, his knees giving in and meeting the floor with a dull thud. "I'm so sorry I didn't find you earlier." Giyuu buried his face in your neck as he softly cried against your skin, a wave of immense relief hitting him at once. 

At least, you weren't dead like the Hashira believed for nearly 10 years. 

"I swear I'll make sure to protect you."

The sun was warm on your skin, gentle eyes focused on a blue butterfly which had entered through the open window and rested on your index finger. Its small legs tickled you ever so slightly and you struggled to hold in a giggle at the feeling. 

After having fallen unconscious for a day or two, you woke up at the Butterfly Estate where three very sweet girls awaited you coming back to reality; you learned that their names were Sumi, Kiyo and Naho. They brought you everything you needed and frequently kept you company. 

With your eyes opening once more, you also regained your memories. You remembered everything from the day you lost your parents, to the training with Urokodaki, Sabito and Giyuu, to the point you had desperately tried to reach your katana and passed out. Although a little bit of regret lingered at your soul, you couldn't find it in you to be upset with yourself. 

Life continuously knitted several paths for one to take, but it was up to several strings of fortunate and unfortunate events alike which path they'd lead one on. 

Anyone could say you were unlucky to have lost your memories and had to part ways with the ones you loved the most. But if you thought about it, you were very lucky. So very lucky that Mizu had taken you in, that she fought you and that a string of fate decided to intertwine Giyuu's and your path once more. 

The butterfly on your finger flew away as the shoji door slid open and revealed no one else but Shinobu who had watched over your physical and mental state after the confrontation with Mizu. The Insect Hashira was incredibly kind and you felt like you developed some kind of friendship with her. 

As she sat down on your bed to give you the last bit of medicine you had to swallow, you couldn't help but notice her eyes lingering on your wristband. 

"How come you like Tomioka-san?" 

You nearly choked on the pills, heat warmed up your cheeks and the tips of your ears while you stumbled over your words like a child tripped over rocks. "I-I what?! It's nothing like t-that, Shinobu!" Comically, you shook your head and threw your arms around as if that would convince the dark-haired woman. 

"Oh? But Tomioka-san has the exact same wristband and when I asked him about it, he smiled. Do you know how scary that was?"

You couldn't bite back the laugh that ripped through you at Shinobu's words. The fact that Giyuu seemed to smile so rarely that it was considered creepy when he did it, was both ridiculous and funny to you. 

On the other side of the shoji door, Giyuu wondered what could possibly make you laugh so much. He didn't ponder too much on it since this was a sound he hadn't heard in so long and was actually quite fond of. Not that the Water Hashira would ever say that out loud. 

As Giyuu stepped inside, he was immediately greeted by your warm smile and despite the bandaids on your face and bandages around your arms, he was taken aback at how pretty you were. Even after 8 years, you still made his heart feel a certain, funny way with little to no effort at all. 

"I guess I should leave the two of you alone. Although I can't deny that I'm surprised you like Tomioka-san enough to willingly be alone with him."

"I..am not disliked by people."

"That's all you have to say?" Shinobu wondered out loud and left the room, the shoji door closing behind her with a dull thud bouncing off the warmly-colored walls. 

As Giyuu sat with you on the bed, you couldn't help but notice that his facial features got much sharper over the years, his demeanor became stoic, but you were quick to figure out that Giyuu hadn't grown jaded. Those he cared about, he would show his emotions to. 

"Giyuu, Iㅡ" 

Whatever you wanted to say got blown away as you suddenly found yourself in Giyuu's arms, your chin resting in his broad shoulder while his hands grasped at your clothes as if you were to disappear if he held you any lighter. "All this time, I thought you were dead."

Wrapping your arms around the tall Hashira, you easily melted into the heartfelt hug and felt relief as well as happiness prick at your eyes. You couldn't cry now. "I'm right here, Giyuu. I told you I'd never be far, remember?" Each syllable was a bit shakier than the previous one, but it made the feelings in your heart only grow firmer and deeper. 

Affectionately, you wrapped your pinky around Giyuu's and brought the two intertwined fingers up to eye level while resting your forehead on his own. You basked in the closeness with the one you'd been aching to meet, swam in his calm aura and felt your heart skip several beats as if it had fallen.

A lump found home in Giyuu's throat and effectively cut off any word he could dream of saying. He wasn't used to anyone getting this close to him, wasn't used to someone being affectionate and gentle with him. And he certainly wasn't used to seeing your serene face after so, so long. 

But he liked it. 

"I'd never forget," Giyuu quietly confessed and felt your breath fan over his cheeks, a delicate smile tugging at his lips as the promise from your childhood was renewed. It was the first time you had seen Giyuu smile and contrary to Shinobu's words, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid your eyes on. 

Step by step, the sun began disappearing behind mountains and dipped the sky in a beautiful mix of orange, blue and pink. Soon, the stars would light up the sky and the moon would shine brightly. 

But with the sun setting, it also meant that demons were about to crawl out from whatever hole they hid themselves in. 

"Grab your sword, [Name]."

"Huh?"

Giyuu knew he was about to weave you into a life which could never be described as safe or domestic, but he never forgot that you had already decided to become a Demon Slayer when you two were children. He had seen the way you fought, backed him up and sensed a demon's blood lust. 

After all this time, you never truly forgot who you were. 

"It won't take long until the demons come out. Let's go." 

You nearly fell from your bed as you hastily reached for your sword and a bit of confusion lingered in your mind. Just what was Giyuu thinking? It was hard to tell with his face barely moving like it used to.

"I never officially passed the final selection," you sighed and looked at the sword in your grasp which was once broken, lying right in front of you. "I can't just go with you..can I?" 

Giyuu could feel doubt and insecurity seeping from you which definitely wasn't characteristic for you. When you fought Mizu, you were hell-bent on defeating her, despite the injuries you took. Was it guilt from back then making you doubt..?

"What happened 8 years ago is unfortunate, [Name]." Pitch black bangs threw a subtle shadow over Giyuu's eyes, but his voice was, dare you say, soothing. "But if you still want to fight, then I'll train you until the next final selection. Going on patrol with me is considered training."

It was okay for you to become a swordsman once again, right? Urokodaki didn't put you through hellish training and taught you everything he knew just for you to quit. With Giyuu's help, you could surely put an end to the existence of demons. Yes, you could do it! 

Confidently, you strapped your Nichirin blade to your waist, grabbed Giyuu's hand and pulled him through the hallways of the Butterfly Estate until you were finally outside. "Then what are we waiting for? Training is about to begin!" 

Faintly, Giyuu could hear Shinobu, Aoi and the three girls bid their goodbyes. His eyes fell down to your hand holding his tightly with the wristbands nearly touching one another. 

Perhaps, you were really bound by the wrist and though the red threads got heavily tangled along the way, it never got severed.

[ibijau]

Futures past pt1 / On AO3

Nie Huaisang, sitting cross legged on his bed, tilted his head. It was a rather warm early evening in spring, and he had been getting ready for bed, so he was wearing only his inner clothes, and his hair was done in quick and messy braids so they wouldn’t get tangled during the night. Since he hadn’t been expecting anyone save perhaps his brother, if Nie Mingjue felt in the mood to shout at him for skipping practice again, his room was an awful mess, the floor covered in copies of some prints he’d bought recently. Tasteful prints, at least, not that it would have shocked his visitor too much if it had been porn, he guessed.

“I think I should scream,” Nie Huaisang said without conviction.

“But you won’t because you’re too curious,” Nie Huaisang retorted.

At least, Nie Huaisang thought that was himself. The man who had suddenly appeared in the middle of his room had his eyes, his nose, his lips, his general shape of face, even if his jaw was much sharper. He dressed well, in the sort of ornate styles Nie Huaisang absolutely would do if his brother weren’t forcing him to be reasonable, had a gorgeous fan in his hand, and wore an elaborate guan in his hair, the perfect picture of a rich and refined scholar. He didn’t even bother carrying a sabre, which Nie Huaisang found very satisfying for some reason.

“I don’t have time to play games,” the older man announced, opening his fan with an elegant yet disdainful gesture that his younger self hoped to reproduce someday. He supposed he would, in time. “I am you, from the future. A little over twenty years, if you must know, and it is not a pretty sight here. Some people are going to make a mess of things and while I’ve done what was needed to right every wrong, I don’t see why I shouldn’t try to prevent those wrongs.”

Nie Huaisang hunched up, one elbow on his leg, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

“I don’t think you’re me. I wouldn’t ever put that much effort into anything. Good try on the disguise though. It’s a bit rude you didn’t make me taller, but it is a good detail, it really sells it.”

The man threw him a disgusted look. “Sometimes, I understand why da-ge ended up like this,” he muttered. “I really was insufferable. Listen up. When you were seven, you stole da-ge’s favourite robes, the set he always wore to go to conferences. You thought they were the prettiest thing you’d ever seen, and you wanted to try them on and pretend you were, against all evidence, as great as da-ge. You wore them for less than an incense stick’s time before dropping ink on them. They were completely ruined, in spite of your efforts, so you just burned them.”

Nie Huaisang startled so badly he half fell on his side, before scrambling toward the back of his bed, suddenly terrified. That incident happened years before, and he’d never told anyone. Nie Mingjue had been furious for weeks. To that day, Nie Huaisang still didn’t know how he hadn’t been discovered… but it was something only he knew, something he’d never shared with anyone.

He stared at this cold, distant man in front of him, with his venomous eyes and disdainful air, and didn’t like what he saw. How could that be his future?

Guessing his thoughts, the man smiled.

“Da-ge dies in a few years,” he announced, startling Nie Huaisang again. “It’s tragic, and cruel, and we’re going to do everything we can to avoid it. You’re going to help, of course.”

So shocked he couldn’t breathe, Nie Huaisang weakly nodded.

It seemed impossible that his brother could ever die, least of all that he might die in the twenty years to come. He would have said the same of his father once, certainly, but his father was well into his sixties already, and anyway he was murdered so it was not the same.

Nie Huaisang gasped and grabbed his pillow, hugging it tight against his body for comfort, as if he weren’t already fifteen and far too old for that.

“When you say da-ge dies, you mean… he’s going to be killed by someone,” Nie Huaisang guessed, curling up on himself, hoping to be wrong.

The expression on the face of that man he would become softened.

“Maybe you’re not hopeless,” he said. “Maybe all I needed was a chance to do a little more… Yes, he’s going to be murdered. Or he would be murdered. We won’t let it happen. You won’t let it happen. I’m only here for a little time, it’s not easy to come here, but I’m hoping to return in a few months if all goes well.”

Something relaxed in Nie Huaisang’s shoulders. It seemed his brother’s death wasn’t something that would happen in the very near future then. That was a relief, when Nie Huaisang was about to leave home and go study for a year in the Cloud Recesses. From all the way down south, it would have been difficult to protect Nie Mingjue.

“So, what am I supposed to do then?” Nie Huaisang asked, still clutching his pillow. “You’d know I’m not much good at anything, so why aren’t you trying to warn da-ge directly? Oh, or am I the only one who can see you?”

“I’m… not sure if others can see me,” the man admitted, hiding behind his fan at that admission, exactly as Nie Huaisang did when embarrassed. “And I don’t have enough time to experiment. Besides, da-ge is so stubborn, he wouldn’t trust a stranger so easily. He can’t be blackmailed over a burned robe.”

“Rude!”

“That’s what you get for calling me short. Now come over here, grab something to write. I don’t want you to forget any of this, and I know how your memory is. Hurry!”

Nie Huaisang reluctantly let go of his pillow, and hopped down from the bed, grumbling the whole time. What was the point of being sent to the Cloud Recesses if he ended up becoming a man with such dreadful manners?

He grabbed a brush, hastily prepared some ink, and sat on the floor before looking up at his future self, waiting for instruction like a sullen child forced to listen in class.

“The first thing you need to know,” the man before him said, “is that there’s going to be a war with Qishan Wen.”

“Duh,” Nie Huaisang retorted, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t the brightest person in the world, but even he could guess as much. “Is that how da-ge dies?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. As if even Wen Ruohan could do anything to him!” his older self said, with a mix of disdain and pride. “Da-ge becomes a war hero, of course. But that war is what will eventually cause his death. Not that it matters yet, you have about two years and a half before the war starts, so…”

Nie Huaisang dropped his brush with a gasp, splattering ink over his sheet of paper.

“Two years? The war is in just two years?”

His older self clicked his tongue impatiently.

“Focus! This is irrelevant right now! What matters is taking measure so certain things don’t happen during that war. Now, the most important would be…”

He paused, looking down at Nie Huaisang. The longer he stared, the more annoyed the older man appeared. That look of frustration was one Nie Huaisang was quite used to, especially coming from his elders, but also sometimes from people of his own generation. He usually didn’t mind, though just a week before one kid half his age had looked at him like that over his posture during sabre practice, and that had stung a little, to be honest.

More often than not, people would accompany that exasperated stare with a ‘what will we do with you?’ and though his older self didn’t say the words, he was clearly thinking them.

“There’s a boy, living in Yunping City, named Meng Yao,” the man announced, before giving a number of details about that boy, such as the name of his mother, the address where he might be found, his age, his looks, and plenty other things. Nie Huaisang wrote it all down, and even doodled a very quick portrait based on that description, to which his older self nodded, looking nearly approving for a moment. Before Nie Huaisang could enjoy that, the man turned grim again. “You have to find this boy, and make sure he doesn’t join Lanling Jin. Do you understand? No matter what, Meng Yao cannot join Lanling Jin. If he does, there will be great risk to da-ge.”

There was an odd inflection on that cannot. Or at least, it was odd to hear it coming from himself, because it was the tone of voice people had when saying it’d be a shame if Wen Ruohan choked on his next meal, or if Jin Guangshan’s dick got chopped off by a demon on a Night Hunt.

But that Meng Yao was just a boy, just a few months older than Nie Huaisang himself. Even if he became a danger in later times, for now there was no way he could harm anyone. And even if he couldn’t join the Jin, there might be other sects, if he was so determined to be a cultivator. Maybe he could even be brought into Qinghe Nie, if he had real talent. Nie Mingjue didn’t care much what people’s origins were as long as they worked hard, though it was an opinion not everyone in the clan shared. It’d be a great way to kill two birds with one stone.

“Is he going to be a problem soon?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Only, it’s not like I can travel on my own, and Yunping City is pretty far from Gusu anyway, and…”

“A few weeks after your arrive, Jiang zongzhu invites Lan Qiren and his nephews to help him with a creature that causes problems near Yunping City,” his older self announced, lazily fanning himself. “I didn’t go, personally, but I’m sure you could find a way to go along. You’ll have to, it’s your best chance. Speaking of which…” he closed his fan with a sharp gesture and pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh. “You have to get Lan Xichen to trust you in the future, so take this year in Gusu as a chance and become the best friend he’s ever had.”

Nie Huaisang nearly dropped his brush again and grimaced.

“Oh. Do I really have to? I mean, he’s so…”

He made a vague hand gesture, words failing him to describe Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen wasn’t a bad person. That wasn’t it. He was, in fact, very good, everyone said so. He was smart, and polite, and well educated, and amazing with cultivation, and with martial arts, and… and he was just so boring. He was, without a doubt, the most boring person Nie Huaisang had ever met. He was always too careful when speaking, too serious, too perfect, too much exactly how grown ups thought boys their age should act. He was an old man’s idea of a young man. He was really, really boring and while Nie Huaisang was very glad his brother had at least one friend, he was very judgmental toward Nie Mingjue for having chosen such a person for a companion.

If his older self’s dark expression was anything to go by, Lan Xichen’s personality didn’t look like it improved much in the future.

“I wouldn’t do this if there was another choice,” the man said. “But if da-ge couldn’t properly burn bridges with san-ge, then it’s pointless to try driving him away from er-ge, they’re too close. So you’ll have to do what’s needed to save da-ge, and become friends with Lan Xichen. It is vital. We’re going to do what we can so da-ge doesn’t die, but if it still comes to pass, you’ll need allies and I suppose that’s at least one thing he might be good for. Let’s see if he really meant what he said that time,” Nie Huaisang’s future self muttered somberly. “I don’t expect anything to come of this, but it can’t hurt.”

“But I don’t want to be friends with him,” Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“Good, because he won’t be your friend,” the man retorted coldly. “Don’t get attached to him, he’s not worth it. But make sure to become someone he’ll fully trust. Make yourself dearer to him than even da-ge is. Nothing less than that will do.”

That sounded even more difficult and boring than actually becoming friends with Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang thought. He pouted at the perspective of such a daunting task, wondering if he really loved his brother enough to put so much effort into saving him.

“I don’t even know how to become close to Lan gongzi!” he whined. “He doesn’t like anything interesting, he’s the most boring person in the world! How do I…”

“Figure it out!” his older self snapped. “Do you think I’d be here if I knew how to deal with him? Besides, I’m running out of time already. I’ll try to return to you a month after Qingming, when the spell has recharged. It should be before the Night Hunt in Yunping City, but you’ll need to have made progress with Lan Xichen already. Remember that we’re doing this for da-ge!”

Before Nie Huaisang could protest, the man standing before him suddenly disappeared, leaving no trace of his presence. It would have been easy to think it nothing but a dream, if not for that detailed list of information about that Meng Yao from Yunping City. Even like that, it really was unsettling, and Nie Huaisang stayed frozen in place for a long while, kneeling on the floor, staring at a list about a boy he was maybe supposed to kill. It seemed like complete madness, and maybe he should have ran to his brother, explained everything to him, except…

Except there had been such pain in his older self’s voice every time he spoke of Nie Mingjue, and his anger at having failed to protect their brother in his own life had been obvious. Something had happened there. Something he hadn’t even explained, Nie Huaisang suddenly realised. His older self hadn’t told him how their brother died, and how could he convince Nie Mingjue that he might be in danger when he didn’t even know who would strike him, or when?

It might be better to wait then. After all, Nie Huaisang’s older self had said that Nie Mingjue would be a great hero in a future war, and that war wouldn’t start for over two more years. Until then, Nie Huaisang might as well try to meet that Meng Yao when he had the chance, and he would also (he shivered in distaste) try to see what could be done about Lan Xichen. Having come to that conclusion, Nie Huaisang carefully folded the sheet of paper containing his notes about Meng Yao, and put it away. He then cleaned his brush, put some order around him, and finally went to sleep.

His last thought was that next time, when his older self returned, he would definitely ask more details about Nie Mingjue’s death.

-

In the days that followed that encounter with his future self, Nie Huaisang made efforts to be a better brother. He still wasn’t sure how much he believed about that encounter he’d had, but it certainly made him quite sentimental to realise that Nie Mingjue would die someday. It was clear that there would be a war soon after all, whether it happened when his future self said it would or not, and people certainly tended to die during conflicts.

So as he finished preparing for his rapidly approaching stay in Gusu, Nie Huaisang tried to fully enjoy his brother’s company and commit every moment spent together to memory, in case something happened.

A very noble sentiment, except his brother was a complete pain in the ass.

If Nie Huaisang hugged him, Nie Mingjue asked him what he’d broken this time, or what favour he was about to request. If Nie Huaisang suggested they spent more time together, Nie Mingjue just took him to the training grounds and forced him to practice the sabre, or even worse tried to spar with him, which was cruel and barbaric.

Nie Mingjue was the absolute worst person in the entire world, and while Nie Huaisang was still going to try his best to keep him alive, he wasn’t sure why.

Because Nie Mingjue was so unbearable and annoying and unable to appreciate his brother’s immense kindness, Nie Huaisang found it a relief of sorts when he finally left for the Cloud Recesses.

The trip itself was nothing memorable. Nie Huaisang spent most of it wishing he had a golden core so he could fly his sabre and go faster than this carriage, or trying to figure out how he was supposed to befriend the oh-so-boring Lan Xichen. By the time he and the disciple accompanying him reached Gusu, he still hadn’t found an answer to that problem. He would have to figure it out on the fly then.

The carriage was left at the foot of the mountain where the Cloud Recesses laid, and the long trek by foot started. Nie Huaisang, adverse to any unnecessary physical effort, found that he didn’t actually mind too much going up the mountain. The landscape was so exquisite there, every turn of the path revealing something worth painting. On the few occasions he’d been there before to accompany his brother at conferences, he’d always admired how Gusu Lan had found such an amazing place to live in, and promised himself he’d make the best of things if he ever got to come study there. He would have forgotten to bring his sabre if Nie Mingjue hadn’t packed it for him, but his luggage was full of paper of the highest quality, and it wouldn’t be used to take notes.

At the gate of the Cloud Recesses, Nie Huaisang and his brother’s disciple had to wait to be brought in. Because he was a somewhat more important guest than some of the other visiting disciples, Nie Huaisang was greeted by Lan Qiren in person, his eldest nephew in tow.

While Lan Qiren guided him inside and explained a number of rules he didn’t intend to follow, Nie Huaisang couldn’t help observing Lan Xichen with more attention than he’d ever done before. He was somewhat handsome, if you liked that sort. A little tall and gangly, though it was less jarring when he wasn’t hanging out with Nie Mingjue who was older and had fully finished growing. Nie Huaisang figured that hanging out with him would at least give him something nice to look at, even if he didn’t expect the two of them to ever find much to talk about.

“And this is where you will be staying,” Lan Qiren announced when they arrived in front of a small house. “We will let you get settled and rest from your trip. If you have any requests…”

“I’d love a tour of the Cloud Recesses!” Nie Huaisang said without thinking, then turned to look at Lan Xichen. “Lan gongzi, would you please give me a tour? I’m sure there’s no one who could do it better than you.”

Since they had never spoken much before, Nie Huaisang had of course expected that Lan Xichen would be a little surprised over such a request. But Lan Xichen wasn’t just surprised, he was shocked, his eyes opening wide and his face growing pale, as if Nie Huaisang had just grown a second head and announced he’d be feeding on the blood of infants. Lan Xichen’s polite smile even dropped for a moment, though of course it quickly returned. In a moment, he had regained perfect control of himself, but Nie Huaisang was still puzzled and entertained by that extreme reaction.

“I’m glad Nie gongzi thinks well of me,” Lan Xichen said calmly. “But I am sure I can find someone better suited to give you a tour.”

“But I want it to be you,” Nie Huaisang insisted, pretending not to notice the other Nie disciples glaring at him for already causing problems on his first day. “It’d be nice if it were you. Da-ge always says you’re so clever and knows so many things, so I really want you to be my guide.”

Lan Xichen appeared to hesitate. Nie Huaisang braced himself for rejection. He hadn’t expected to have his caprice granted anyway, and just wanted to throw it out there that he was going to be pestering Lan Xichen in the future. Then, to his surprise, the older boy nodded.

“Very well. I will give you a tour this afternoon, Nie gongzi,” Lan Xichen said. “I have no urgent obligations, and it is the least I can do for a friend’s relative. Unless shufu has objections?”

Lan Qiren had none. The Nie were left to settle down, promised lunch would be brought to them soon, and then Lan Xichen would come in the early afternoon to show Nie Huaisang around, while someone else would do the same for the other Nie disciples. It was a great plan, a great occasion for Nie Huaisang to gain Lan Xichen’s favour as instructed… and it sounded impossibly boring.

All too soon, the time for that tour came. Nie Huaisang, unhappy with their too simple accomodations and the unappealing meal they had been served, was not in a great mood when Lan Xichen knocked on the door. He had been in the Cloud Recesses less than half a day, and already the place disappointed him.

To his credit, Lan Xichen wasn’t a bad guide. He made sure to match his pace to Nie Huaisang’s as they walked, he had something to explain about nearly every building, and patiently repeated the most important rules of life in the Cloud Recesses which Nie Huaisang had ignored when Lan Qiren gave them. It was easier to listen to Lan Xichen than to Lan Qiren anyway, there was a certain warmth to his voice that his uncle simply lacked. Lan Xichen could probably have made a lecture sound like a conversation. It would have been a very lovely time, if Nie Huaisang had cared about any of that, which he didn’t. Everything in the Cloud Recesses was about cultivation and rules, which was nearly as boring as the Unclean Realm where everything was about cultivation and martial arts.

“And what do you do for fun here?” Nie Huaisang desperately asked after a while when Lan Xichen explained that a certain building was meant to enhance the effects of meditation.

“The library is that way,” Lan Xichen announced.

“Does it have anything fun, or is it only cultivation treaties?”

“We collect poetry and history treaties as well,” Lan Xichen said. “And music sheets, of course,” he added after a moment, looking uncomfortable. “I… are you much interested in music, Nie gongzi?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “No, but I guess it’s better than cultivation, as far as fun things go. I’m supposed to learn the guqin at some point, but it’s hard to find the time, and da-ge prefers that I focus on the sabre.”

“Qinghe Nie has traditionally been more focused on martial arts,” Lan Xichen noted. “Though since you are here, perhaps you might enjoy trying different things. You are here to learn after all.”

Nie Huaisang stared at the older boy with surprise. Up until then, Lan Xichen had never seemed to care what Nie Huaisang did or didn’t do, and he never contradicted Nie Mingjue whenever his friend complained about having a lazy little brother who wasn’t interested in the things he ought to have been interested in. Without being sure, Nie Huaisang suspected that Lan Xichen thought him a little stupid, and just not very skilled in general.

“Maybe it’s worth a try,” Nie Huaisang mused. “I do like music a lot. My father used to say I have a good ear for it. Not like da-ge. He wouldn’t know one melody from another even if his life depended on it!”

“Is that so,” Lan Xichen weakly replied, turning very pale, as if he might faint.

“Lan gongzi, are you unwell?”

“It’s nothing important,” Lan Xichen said, smiling again in that annoying manner of his. “Let’s continue walking. I think you really might like the library, and then… it wouldn’t be part of a normal tour, but would you like me to show you the way to the back hills if we have time? I remember your brother mentioning that you like birds, and there are many to be seen there.”

“That would be lovely,” Nie Huaisang agreed, surprised and delighted by that offer. It was likely that Nie Mingjue had just been complaining about that particular hobby of his, as he so often did, but if Lan Xichen had translated that into something positive, Nie Huaisang was glad. “Do you like birds as well, Lan gongzi?”

“I’ve never paid them much attention,” Lan Xichen admitted. “I suppose they are fine creatures.”

That, clearly, was all he had to say on the subject. It was a very boring answer, Nie Huaisang thought. But then, Lan Xichen really was a boring person, so that was no surprise. Nie Huaisang thus dropped the topic, and forced himself to pay some degree of attention as Lan Xichen resumed talking about the history of the Cloud Recesses.

At least, the library really did seem quite interesting, aside from all the cultivation texts. And since they actually managed to check the back hills for a little bit before dinner, Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise to find that there were a great many birds there, as well as plenty of spaces to explore, and quite a few vistas to paint.

Getting along with Lan Xichen was going to be so boring, but at least the rest of his stay could be turned into something quite fun.