#when he finds out he's a demon. so when it comes out i have this mental image of him lunging at LBH and LBH flinches back. but SQQ wraps hi

[getmeoutofhell]

Slashers getting jealous

i hope you enjoy these!! i made them with love and care ;)

Hannibal Lecter:

yeah, whoever made him feel that way is long gone. he’ll take you, tie you down and make you watch him kill that person in a very brutal sick way. he then will go on and tell you a heart filled message, while looking you in the eyes.

“you forced my hand dear.” oh yeah, make sure you enjoy his next meal. he made it special. 🥩

Will Graham:

he will become nonchalant (no joke), he will stop being him for a minute to process his emotions and how to deal with them. he’ll also become a rude bitch. not just to them, but to you as well.

“how would that make you feel?” he may even roll his eyes. soon, that person will come up missing. 🌪️

Billy Loomis:

takes it to a different level even in public. he will try to embarrass that person in-front of everyone. he takes your arm and you guys leave. if you try to talk to him, he’ll ignore you until he’s ready to talk.

“i want you to stay here, with me tonight.” only later to find out that there’s been a ghost face attack…with them being the first victim. 📞

Stu Marcher:

if you think will is gonna be nonchalant, lemme tell you about this guy. not only will he go crazy if someone takes to much of your time, he then will not talk to you for a little bit, which upsets you ofc.

“i think you should just stay away from that guy.” you can imagine what stu will do from there…📞

Micheal Myers:

death. just death. since he’s a lot older than you (probably) he won’t even waste time trying to explain that he’s jealous. he’ll just go and kill them.

you can feel him staring at you under his mask. very creepy. 🔪

Valak:

wow, valak? being jealous? not a change. now, let’s say you were trying to summon another demon. now we’re taking. as i say in all my post he’s very sneaky. which means not only will he banish that demon, he’ll also banish you as well.

have fun in hell with him. forever. 🪞

Art the Clown:

if you expect art to not get jealous you must be mistaken dear. he’s a man child, a big baby. but when he gets mad, he’s mad. he’ll take you and tie you in a chair. then, he peels the victims skin off piece by piece while laughing without a care.

he will later surprise you with a heart …a human heart. 💉

Malthus:

dealing with a demon such as him will not end up good. also considering he’s mostly in the doll then with you. but that doesn’t stop him from seeing you interact with other people for to long.

that doll is everywhere. including that special persons home…🕯️

Ethan Landry:

will pretend everything is okay until it’s just you two alone. “why were you and them so close?” he stares deep into your soul, making you shudder. ethan is a walking mask. on the outside he’s a sweet boy. but on the inside he’s a brutal walking man.

“you stay the fuck away from her!!” as the knife digs deeper in their chest. 📞

Candyman:

he’s more calm actually. he trust you, not them. so as long as it doesn’t go to far, he’s okay with it. now, if it did go to far he’ll step in and take you away from them. he manly watches from afar tho.

“let’s head home.” let’s hope that person isn’t allergic to bees. 🐝

Pennywise (2017):

this clown didn’t understand what was happening at first. why did he feel that way? he had no idea. all he knew was that he didn’t like it, and he knew he had to do something about it. so if that requires him eating that persons chest out then so be it.

“you’re my friend. not theirs.” 🎈

Freddy Krueger:

oh my this man gets jealous so much it’s ridiculous. he’s so insecure about himself so when you find interest in anything other than him for more than 5 minutes he’s all over the place. it’s kinda sad actually.

just know they won’t be waking up ever again. 💭

[fawnindawn]

Here We Go Again (Voices In His Head) - jason todd x reader

- when cracks start forming in your relationship, you can only let go for him to see what he's lost. (angst to happy ending, i swear!/slightly toxic fragile jason)

He's gone cold again. You had only gotten back his smile, before he had left on an investigation with Bruce for days, coming back different. You can tell in his avoidant gaze, the tension in his shoulders, that the shadows have slipped into your home, snuffing the daylight, leaving you the victim to his cold shoulder.

"Shutting me out won't fix anything." You're tired. Your voice doesn't sound like a plea anymore, but a robotic response to his schemes, to the static in his mind that plays out your ending repeatedly, doomed to end, or so he believes.

"You won't understand." His voice is a cutting knife, with the carrying assumption heavy in the air. You never will. His eyes convey what hurts you most, the utter belief when he spits those words to your face.

"How can I if you won't let me try?" Your voice breaks, and you hate how desperate you sound.

You have fights with Jason. You understand that. It is the choice you made the moment his jagged heart merged with yours, causing you to breathe every day with this pain in your chest, consumed by the fire that he tries to douse. You understand his soul is something untamed, reaching with claws and bitter words to warmth, but you didn't want to tame him. You just want to love him.

He looks at you, a resigned expression filled with pity and self-hatred. You want to stop those thoughts that corrupt his will to find happiness, to see faults in every action he commits. It's a repeated cycle of push and pull, the need for love, and the ache of loneliness that he thinks he deserves.

"What was the point then?" You snap. "Approaching me, making me love you, and pushing it all away? Breaking what we built?"

He stares, watching you like you're out of reach. HIs fingers twitch, and his mouth nearly speaks the words needed to stop this fight. To bring you back into his arms. I love you. That's why.

"I don't know."

Your heart stops beating. You know he's lying, but you're tired of begging. Begging for him to speak the truth, that nothing is wrong, even if the demons in his head tells him there is. That nothing is wrong, even if he is not healed. Because you don't care if he isn't, and it kills you that he can't see you and your love past the shadows in his eyes.

Maybe he is right, that something is wrong with the two of you. You want to tell him that it's ironic, how his love for you stops him from giving what you want most. How he thinks he's protecting you from him, when all you want is his company, his presence, just him.

"You are afraid." You mutter, numb and empty. "You don't think I understand that you're pushing me away because you think it will protect me from your pain, but I do. I know you, Jason, and that doesn't stop me from loving you."

You see the flinch in his gaze, and the regret ready to pour out of his mouth.

"But you win." Your mouth tastes bitter with the admission. "I give in. I surrender. If you are determined it will end this way, I can't help you. Not till you see it for yourself, that the only reason I'm leaving is because you gave me no other choice."

Your feet move out the door, out of the home you share, and he doesn't stop you.

It's months before you hear sound of him again. It's a funny thing, how someone so intense, so deeply ingrained into your mind, fades from the city as if he never existed. A conjuring of your own imagination, you start to wonder if the phantom sting in your heart is the only evidence left of your time with him.

You've just come out of the shower, the day's labour heavy on your neck, when you hear a knock at your window. It can't be. Yet, it's that familiar, steady knock, three times on the glass which you both agreed to. It's been months. He can't possibly be here. Still, your body is a traitor to your mind, rushing at the familiarity, with a sickening hope towards your window. The familiar red helmet greets you, as well as the crimson blood staining his jacket.

When he slips in, you hate how your mind works in clockwork routine, grabbing the emergency kit as he slides down the wall, gripping his wound.

"It isn't fair." You spoke through the thick of the silence. "Coming to me because you know I'll open the door. After being quiet for months, after everything-"

"Six months, eight days, twenty hours." He cuts you off. His helmet is laying beside him, and you have a clear sight to a smile so wounded, and eyes so resigned as he looks at you. "If we're to be exact."

"What?" Your heart is racing. You're convinced you imagined his words when you move to him, settling down in front of him with the kit.

"I've been an idiot. A major dickhead." He breathes out, eyes lingering over your features, frantically taking all of you in. "An unfair, horrible jerk who hurt you. I was wrong. I am wrong. You do understand me, and I was so afraid of feeling seen that I pushed you away. I lost you, and you were damn right to leave for the way I treated you."

You're silent, his confession too much, too sudden, too him. You had thought with time, your memories of him, the anguish in your heart would fade. Having him in front of you, carrying that same weight in his gaze that you tried to bury, you can't deny it. You have missed him so much. Tears leak out from your eyes, and you're sure you look a horrible mess, but he pulls you in, wraps you in his arms, and everything finally feels whole.

"My biggest regret is that I should've ran after you. No, I shouldn't have even let you go without telling you that I love you." He pulls back slightly so he can see you, fingers shaking as he caresses your face. "I may be right about being broken, but that shouldn't have excused me from making myself the right man for you."

"I don't deserve your forgiveness, or your love." He says, but you notice a fire lit in his eyes. "You can treat me like absolute shit, and I will take it all. But I will work every single day, till my last breath, to make sure you never doubt that you are loved, because you deserve to know that if anything I know about love, it is you."

"I love you. And no apology will ever be enough to change the fact that you didn't feel it from me." He whispers, hands wiping your tears away. His eyes are so raw, and you think laying in his arms, that this might be the closest semblance to tearing his heart out for you. "Will you still have me, if I promise you that if you ever feel like I screwed something up, you can shoot me in the head?"

You choke back a laugh through your sobs, hitting him in the chest, and he grabs hold of your hand, a warm, steady grip as he brings it to his lips and presses the softest kiss onto your skin. You steady your breath, before you finally speak again. "If you ever screw up again, I promise you that you'll face much worse that a headshot."

He smiles, practically aglow as he leans in, nose brushing yours. "Make that a promise, sweetheart."

"And we're going to have a proper talk when you're all patched up, got it?"

He nods diligently, and your heart delights at the sight of him so obedient. "Anything you want." He drawls.

You see his eyes flicker to your lips, but he's holding back. Waiting for you.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

Your teasing words barely leave your mouth before he kisses you. It feels just like the first time, sweet and desperate, and you swear you can feel his promise sealed upon your lips. That this time, he won't let go.

[pastillcs]

i need more people to capitalize on how funny dinners at the wayne manor must be when at least 3 of the bats are dating a Kent.

the first time bruce brings clark home, it's a bit of a pandemonium. half the children have their eyebrows raised, either out of intrigue or surprise, while alfred and dick have the smuggest "i fuckin' knew it" smiles on their faces. damian is the most confused one out of the bunch, having been raised as an al-ghul and probably carrying over some form of internalized homophobia at first.

cass and duke are incredibly supportive, but the glint in their eyes betrays a sense of danger that sends a chill down clark's spine. plus points if they team up to scare the living daylights out of clark on one of his increasingly frequent visits to the manor, with both of them chuckling to themselves after walking off.

"he may be the man of steel, but he's in gotham tonight."

tim and jason are the living embodiments of "what the fuck." in fact, one of the only times tim, jason, and damian ever concede to a truce is after clark's fourth time eating dinner at the house. after eating, clark stands up to help alfred wash the dishes, and the three of them share a Look- reconvening in damian's room once clark had left to debrief on the whole debacle.

"washing the dishes, really?"

"next thing you know, he'll be sleeping over here on the weekends."

"i don't understand why father appears to be so happy with him. the alien has no prospects-"

"don't say that in front of B. you'll break his heart."

"but- !!"

clark isn't the one to sleep over at the manor the next weekend though. as soon as damian (loudly) announces to his family during dinner that his "best friend" is going to be sleeping over for a few days, tweedledee and tweedledum share another Look. dick firmly drapes an arm on either of their shoulders as a warning.

("demon brat has friends??" "fuck if i know.")

grayson and cain end up as the main babysitters for the rest of the weekend, with the latter turning out to be the kids' favorite. (no surprises here, she just lets them do whatever while she reads in the corner; much to dick's dismay. and broken heart.) dami and jon had a blast that night, and if bruce walks into the damian's room to find the youngest bat sleeping soundly with the youngest kent curled up beside him, then that's only for bruce to know.

tim and kon decide to hold off on the whole "meeting the family" gig for a while. when kon asks, tim just smiles and gives him a quiet kiss on the temple. he doesn't mention the fact that he's about 97.8% sure that his two oldest brothers might end up bursting a blood vessel when they find out that another one of them is dating a kent.

(he ends up bringing kon over to the manor a few weeks later to watch jason nearly choke on his wellington after he not-so-subtly kisses his lover on the cheek, shit-eating grin unfurling on his face. it's payback for tripping him during patrol the other day.)

clark, slightly concerned: this isn't illegal, right.

bruce, having already seen this coming: nope. it's fine.

dick: sooo, does this just run in the family then?

bruce does not dignify that line of questioning with an answer.

[ms-demeanor]

I actually don't think this is a semantic debate, I think that Frogman is right and "it's important not to humanize people who won't hesitate to (effectively) kill people" is, no shit, protofascist ideology.

No matter how awful, how violent, how genocidal, how "evil" someone is, you have to remember that people are human. You have to treat them as humans, as rational actors who are doing things that they believe will achieve their goals, that their goals are founded in a desire to see *their* version of a better world and not out of some abstract demonic drive to be evil.

The second to last poster is fundamentally understanding the paradox of tolerance in a way that would almost be funny if it wasn't so fucking dangerous. One of the attitudes that you absolutely cannot tolerate if you want the world to be a better place is the dehumanizing of you enemies.

You can't do this because it's saying "there is a version of the world in which it is correct to treat some people as other-than-human, and the rules that apply to humans (the right to a fair trial, freedom from cruel and unusual punishment, etc.) do not apply to those people."

And that means you're saying there are conditions in which people *can* lose those rights and that's where the whole thing starts. "People who hurt children don't deserve rights/kill all pedophiles > the LGBTQIAs are trying to recruit your kids > queers are all pedophiles because they want to recruit and destroy your kids > trans people don't deserve rights." "Terrorists don't deserve rights > all Arabs are terrorists > you can't do war crimes against a population with no civilians > gazans as young as 4 are hamas > it's not a war crime to bomb a hospital it's a legitimate attack against a terrorist stronghold." "Criminals have violated the law and don't deserve the same rights as the rest of us > crossing the border without permission from our government is a crime > all undocumented migrants are criminals > it's okay to separate criminals from their families and put them in cages and offshore prisons"

Elon Musk is a shitty, shitty person but by dehumanizing him, by refusing to recognize that he is just as human (with dreams, hopes, trauma, longing, love, fear, and family) as you are, you are trying to differentiate him from you. You are trying to say "that's not human. That's not like me, I'm not like that, that's a monster and monsters don't deserve to be treated like people."

And people who think that way are very good at finding monsters. Maybe the monsters who don't deserve rights are all the Republicans in congress. Maybe the monsters are all the pardoned J6ers. Maybe the monsters are all republicans generally. Maybe it's everyone who *tolerates* republicans so it's everyone in red states. And that's how you get people saying "they fucking deserved it" after the Texas freeze the same way people are saying "they fucking deserved it" after the LA fires. "Suck it up, that's what happens when you vote for [my political opponents], you deserve what's coming to you because you're all monsters."

The worst person you can think of, the most genocidal dictator, the most vile racist supporter of apartheid, the most prolific murderer - these are all humans, they are not special, they are not unique, and you would do well to remember it because you're not special either. It's imperishable to recognize the humanity of those people because to do so is to recognize that NOT being like that is a choice. YOU could become like them. YOU could do some great harm in the name of your best vision of the future.

Look around at the world right now. Look at the online crackdowns on queer expression, on trans joy. Do you know how we got to a place where it's easy to ban and hide and silence trans women in the name of "content violations"? It's because of a bill meant to protect children from being sexually abused. "Of course I support SESTA/FOSTA, I'm not a monster like those pervert freaks, nobody has to tolerate sex on their platforms" - one of the major, major tools that is being used to silence, isolate, and harass queer people online was voted in by Bernie Sanders and Kamala Harris.

We have to recognize the humanity of the people who do awful things because it is a vital reminder that we, humans, maybe even good people, can easily do awful things ourselves.

Anyway. Absolutely bugfuck insane that "it's important not to humanize bad people" is a take that people will say out loud in 2025.

I thought it was fairly normal to feel empathy for bad people.

I thought it was common, even.

But after my Elon/Grimes post... now I'm wondering if I was mistaken about that.

I wrote a post about Trump being traumatized after his assassination attempt and a post about his poor adaptation to aging. I expressed sympathy for him in both cases. But I still maintain my white hot hatred of him and wish for him to face consequences.

Elon was abused by his father. Some of the stories are incredibly tragic. Hearing those stories triggers an involuntary response in my emotional systems that I can't stop no matter how much I despise present-day Elon. I also wonder if that abuse never occurred maybe we wouldn't be dealing with this current clusterfuck.

I have never held so much anger towards a single person as I do my brother. But I also see him as a victim of abuse. I know he was once a really good person and he was slowly corrupted. I feel sorry for him. I mourn the amazing person he used to be. And I still love him.

But that doesn't make me any less angry.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 16 - did i mean nothing?

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, angst

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

the cold night air hit your tear streaked face as sarah, cleo and kie led you out the club.

"hey it's okay, you don't need to stay and watch that bullshit. what a great fucking friend cara is." sarah spoke.

"i didn't like her as soon as i met her" cleo mentioned.

"not right now cleo." kie shushed her. "look, it was all from her side right? rafe wasn't doing anything or initiating anything back so everything is ok i promise." she said, wiping your tears.

"i know you're right" you agreed, "i just can't believe she would do this. i don't understand."

"she's a cunt is what she is." sarah firmly said, earning a small smile from you. "i'm sending her home first thing tomorrow. i'll pay for her flight."

"no sarah stop."

"i'm serious, don't want her anywhere near you or us or him."

"oh fuck." cleo said, panic overtaking her face.

"what?" you mumbled, your heart racing at her distress.

"i am so sorry y/n," cleo whispered.

"cleo." your stomach dropping, "what is it?"

she turned her phone around and your heart dropped at the screen. rafe and cara face to face, lips almost touching. there was no denying the photo.

"oh my god" your voice fell, tears threatening to fall again.

the girls said nothing, but rubbed your back as you sobbed on the side of the pavement. no words could describe the way you were feeling.

"lets get you home y/n, i'll take you to mine." sarah finally spoke.

after a long, silent taxi ride home, you got out the car and straight into sarah's bed, tears not stopping.

you felt drained, your chest aching. the girls had tried everything to distract you, but you couldn't stop staring at the photo, like staring at it long enough would make it disappear.

but it wouldn't. it was real.

you couldn't process that rafe would do this to you. the boy who had loved you, written songs about you, confessed his deepest issues to you, trusted you. how could he have let this happen? did the last 8 months mean nothing to him?

"okay no more of that." sarah said, taking the phone out of your hands. "do you really think he would do that to you? i mean the photo isn't clear, he could've been talking to her?"

"come on sarah. you saw them together too." you mumbled.

"i just don't get it. he is so in love with you." she replied.

"cleary not." you huffed.

"that's not true and you know it." kie said.

"he told me i was different. that he'd never felt this way before." you spoke as the tears falling again. "i don't know what to do."

"look, we don't know the full story ok? there is nothing we can do." cleo chimed in. "i know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you're going to be okay."

"and i swear to god, when you're ready, we'll make sure they regret this." kie stated.

you swallowed hard. regret. did rafe even feel regret? did cara? or were they still at the club, laughing, dancing, kissing, like none of this even mattered?

your stomach twisted. did you even matter?

sarah must’ve sensed the storm in your head because she gently took your hand, squeezing it. “don’t do that. don’t let them make you feel like you weren’t enough. they weren’t enough for you.”

you let out a bitter laugh, eyes still glossy. “then why does it feel like i’m the one who lost everything?”

kie sighed. “because you’re a good person y/n. and they’re not.”

you wanted to believe that. you really did.

instead, all you could do was lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to breathe through the pain.

because no matter how much your friends reassured you, one thought haunted you.

rafe had promised forever,

and forever had ended with a single photo.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: sorry guys😩 you all knew it was coming

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[batchilla]

In Any Kinder Universe - Prologue

There's a boy on your front doorstep. He looks about ten, and you would not be at all concerned, where it not for the league of assassins garb he wore. You were still fairly sure you could take him, but if you could, you would prefer to avoid beating up a child. You allow the curtain to float back down into place, and move out of the living room to the entryway. Had you known the league would come, perhaps you would have let him slip something a little more heavy duty into your bag … but then why would Ra's send a little boy? and why does he have a suitcase half his size? You open the door, looking down at him. "You lost, buddy?" "No," the boy replies, staring at you as if you've disappointed him. Wait. That stare.

"Your address was on father's computer as a safe house for code red or black scenarios." He moves into your house, leaving the case behind as if he expects someone else to collect it.

"Father's?" you echo, blinking. Oh. "My father; perhaps you are a lesser detective then I was lead to believe. It seems the trend. The Batman." Maybe it would have been preferable if Ra's Al Ghul sent him to kill you. "A son of the bat in leagues robes?" "My Mother is Thalia Al Ghul. I believe you have met. I am Damian Al Ghul, heir to the demon's head and the bat." You had indeed met Thalia. Ten years ago when you were a scrap of a girl, still learning to flip and jump and fly, yet to be given the mantle, she had come to Gotham. You saw why now, or at least the consequences. The boy's heritage was obvious. You roll your neck, flexing your hands to fight the urge to reach for something in a belt you no longer have. "fascinating as that may be, it doesn't explain why you came here." The boy levels another look you know well at you, as if he sees all you are and finds you lacking. "I understand you trained alongside Gordon and Grayson, and then Todd, later training Drake and Brown." discomfort wells in your chest as you feel the ghost of a too tight cowl suppressing your face. "I don't know that I trained alongside Babs and Dick… I came in right before the … before she was attacked and he left." "But you did in fact train with and later train every previous Robin. It is also true that you yourself were once slated to replace Grayson." You nod. "But I didn't, and then I left." "Then you quit. Soon, I will take my rightful place by my father's side, and I will not be the first denied your tutoring." Your head aches, and vision blurs slightly. "Tim isn't Robin anymore? what- what happened?" "He was replaced by the Batman's true heir. He is not dead, if that's where you went. Grayson said you were sensitive now. weak. I see why my father had you go. Still, he speaks highly of you. When I asked about you - do you know what he said?" "I'm sure you're about to tell me." you mutter, but the boy pays no heed to the bitter tone. "He named you his greatest protege. Claimed Drake and Brown flourished under your guidance. Then demanded I stay away. Leave well enough alone and let you rot here in central city suburbia." you scoff. "Healing, not rotting. I hate to burst whatever weird bubble you're in, but I am out of the game. Scram." Damian shakes his head. "No. If you are what father claims, I will study under you." "And if I refuse?" "Batgirl, turning away a Robin asking for help? Unlikely." It happens before you can think, you grab his shoulder and slam him against the door frame. "That is not my name anymore!" He grabs your wrist and tries to twist out of your grasp, but you lock in and stand as stone. It takes you a minute to realise what's happening. Thalia's boy or not, goading little shit or not, Damian was a child. You let go and take a step back. It's not your name anymore. The mantle no longer yours. Technically if he wanted Batgirl, he ought go to Stephanie Brown. But he was a child, and name or no, if you turned him away and something happened to the kid… Sick laughter rings in your ears. Jason, so broken down, sat in that chair. The shot. Your partner… your best friend and first love dead so quickly after so much pain. "Take your stuff upstairs, third door off the landing. I- I need to have a diazepam and make a goddamn call."

You stare at the contact, as if that will fix the scenario. As if you can inflict your ire on the man who lent you his last name through manifestation alone. You cannot. He answers immediately, his tone completely blank, as if he's not even registered that this is the first time you've spoken in over a year. Your first name and nothing more, clipped and short. "Bruce, hi. Lose a brat, lately?" You are proud of how level you keep your voice. "Might've appreciated knowing I had another brother before he showed up. I'd have stocked the fridge with goldfish or something." Except you didn't, you didn't have a new brother, not really. Bruce didn't truly see you as a daughter, just a toy soldier. A truth that had slapped you in the face after you'd had a breakdown and needed to step out of the cowl, and your use to him was over. He hadn't even said goodbye. Just slipped an emergency alert into your bag at some point. The one trinket you kept from 'home'. "Damian arrived safely then." Your eyebrows raise "You sent him?" "I told him to stay away. To grant you space. Someone will be around shortly to collect him." "…" you feel pathetic to ask it. "You told him I was a good teacher?" "Something like that." is the unreadable reply. "Think he has anything to learn from me?" Your voice is thick and you fight the need to let it rasp as you swallow back the panic and the fear and the hope he brings. Even now, after so much time, and anger, and therapy, some part of you is that little girl desperate for the love of the only father you have ever known. "I do." "Then… maybe he can stay, just for a little while."

INCIDENT REPORT Concerned Parties: Batman. Batgirl Metahuman - Civilian {SEE FILE}. Incident nature: Phone call. Duration: 3 minutes 34 seconds. Notable information: Damian to reside temporarily with civilian to receive training. First contact with Civilian in 13 months, 2 weeks and 3 days post incident {SEE FILE} Personal notes: Damian has broken prototypical regarding his sister. She is to be left alone, per her request. To be reprimanded on return. She sounded initially calm and making snarky commentary but swiftly became distressed. Confirms suspicion that her leaving this life is for her best health. Distance to be maintained. Greatly relieving to hear from her again. She is missed. Incident marked closed at 1900 by Batman.

Hi! Batchilla here! Repeat after me team: if I vote on the poll and don't reblog, I am a piece of shit and need to learn basic tumblr etiquette!

Files MAY become available if they do not win the poll they first appear in... but I make no promises. Thank you to @k1ssyoursister for making the divider. Thank you to @sunnie-angel for giving this a beta read. and the biggest thank you possible to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes for letting me yap at you so much about this series, you have been unreal.

[amutamika]

I have the headcanon that Mobei Jun is touch repulsed but also touched starved. Hear me out.

Demons don't really have emotional bonds (at least that's what we are taught, even though we see that there are exceptions, see Tianlang Jun for example). Mobei Jun is also one of these exceptions. As a kid he was practically glued to his uncle. Only to be betrayed by him as he tossed out little Mobei Jun into the human realm. This must have shattered something inside of Mobei Jun leading to his ongoing trust issues. And it makes sense because demons learn that even their own family can turn against them in a blink of an eye. This is the reason why he doesn't trust Shang Qinghua fully, even after more than a decade of them knowing each other. Therefore, only really starting to see him in a different light after Qinghua saved him in the final boss battle.

With his trust gone he also starts to feel touch repulsed. But also craving the touch of another, because in the end Mobei Jun has feelings and emotions. And he is deeply lonely.

And this is how I imagine it all play out with our two idiots:

And then he stumbles over Shang Qinghua. They are both young. And Shang Qinghua is so incredibly touchy. Right at their first meeting he clings to Mobei Jun's leg like his life depended on it (which it did). Mobei Jun hated it, but more so because it stirred up a longing deep inside of him.

And that's were the pining of these two idiots start. Mobei Jun man handles Shang Qinghua because he wants to touch that damn idiot, but doesn't know how he should do that in another way. He wants him close, that's why he follows him to An Ding Peak. But he doesn't get that feeling. Demons don't do relationships. Demons don't do love or anything else.

Over the years this dynamic goes on. Mobei Jun demanding Shang Qinghua's attention whenever he starves for a warm touch, but pushes him away whenever he gets repulsed by it. But over time he feels less repulsed by his human servant.

And then the day comes where Shang Qinghua explains that acting pathetic is the way to a 'straight man's heart'. And it clicks. The reason why he wants to touch Shang Qinghua is because he likes him. But at that time his violent outburst have lead to Shang Qinghua flinching whenever he tries to touch him. And so he slowly but surely stops hitting and throwing Shang Qinghua and instead pat his head, sit closely next to him, doesn't really let him go out alone. Until Shang Qinghua stops flinching and becomes used to Mobei Jun.

So used to it that Shang Qinghua thinks that it is totally normal that Mobei Jun pulls him close whenever he feels like it, snuggles up to him, wraps him in his coat and demands his presence at every waking hour... And also sleeping hour because Mobei Jun decided at some point that it is easier if his servant is always by his side leading to Shang Qinghua sleeping at first in the same room as his king and slowly moving to the soft bed with the big cushions.

Mind you, Mobei Jun thinks they are dating. Shang Qinghua thinks it is just a thing they do (but wishes he could just press his face into Mobei Jun's chest). Mobei Jun moves slowly but surely in his endeavor to get closer to Shang Qinghua. Until the day comes where Shang Qinghua finds out that Mobei Jun thinks they are in a relationship (post about that here).

After which they are basically glued together. Shang Qinghua works in the same room as Mobei Jun. When MBJ leaves the room, SQH just takes his documents with him and follows his boyfriend. And on days where the king has to work overtime, Shang Qinghua sits close to Mobei Jun or in his lap reading. Sometimes even falling asleep right there. Meanwhile, whenever Mobei Jun catches his boyfriend reading on the couch or the bed he plops down, resting his head in Shang Qinghua's lap, demanding head scratches.

Mobei Jun is still touch repulsed when it comes to others. But there is one touch that he needs. And it is the warm touch of his dumb, idiotic, human husband <3

[let-me-iiiiiiiin]

I feel like he'd be like "what?? Bingge is looking for me? Bingge is tracking me down?" But his brain cells turn back on and he'd instead think, "oh, it's not bingge obviously— Luo Binghe isn't real. That must mean that airplane is tracking me down? Is he telling me that he can easily doxx me? There are way easier methods to do that than write an entire saga of an arc about my favourite protagonist hunting me down!!"

I don't think he would take action against "airplane" tbh— if he does, proud immortal demon way will be discontinued, and that'd mean no binghe, for the rest of his life. But he can avoid him! (Such as, you know, moving away, getting some internet safety tools, avoiding the routes that are detailed in the chapters...)

Weird thing is, that doesn't stop "airplane". The chapters mention that he's changed locations, but the new location doesn't take much to discover at all, not for bingge. Shen Yuan starts feeling scared at this point, but he tells himself he isn't. Airplane is just some messy, absentminded, just-for-lolz kinda guy who couldn't even write a single decent novel. If he actually appears before him, Shen Yuan wouldn't be scared, he'd simply beat that guy up until he begged for mercy!! So really, do your best, great master airplane! See what you get for all this bullshit, you freak author!!

Until the last chapter, which he reads while on the bus on his way back home. In the chapter, Bingge has finally settled down into his new life and waited long enough to have some history in the world, and now he's making his move. Around this hour (which is exactly now, Shen Yuan notes) he heads to Shen Yuan's apartment, climbing the stairs, picking his lock, and familiarizing himself with the place. Shen Yuan feels goosebumps rise on his skin— the descriptions are exactly right. Everything written there is completely accurate to real life. Which meant that... Airplane must have broken in?

When he's in the building, he hears footsteps from the staircase leading up, and runs to use the elevator to avoid whoever is coming down. He goes up, comes to the door, finds nothing out of place, and suddenly wonders if he's actually wrong, but another look at the chapter on his phone convinces him otherwise. There was really no way this Shen Yuan written by Airplane could be an imagined character at all.

So he goes in, and finds a plate of food on the table, still steaming, and a note beside it. He picks it up and reads.

'Apologies for my intrusion, I had intended to greet you. Next time, I hope Yuan-ge and I can have a talk over dinner. For now, please enjoy this meager offering.'

Shen Yuan debates over eating or not eating it, and finally, tired of all the stress, takes a bite, and suddenly thinks, "you know, maybe Luo Binghe is actually real, because there is no way a normal person could cook this well"

After that point Shen Yuan starts becoming a little delusional (according to himself, and also objectively, a little bit) but slowly as clues add up, he starts to actually believe that Luo binghe is the one communicating with him. At some point he even starts wondering if airplane was actually Luo Binghe all along (ladies and gentlemen he's losing it). Like, yeah, he's right, but tonewise his inner monologues should have a kinda mentally ill vibe you know?? He's so down bad for binghe ough

Bingge communicates through the notes for a while— mostly cause Shen Yuan, even though he starts believing that it's binghe himself, keeps avoiding meeting him face to face for fear that there's still a chance that he could be wrong, and he just wants to pretend that this is all real— but at some point he figures out that Shen Yuan is avoiding him way too well for somebody who isn't informed about his patterns, and figures out what's happening. He gets pidw to stop posting momentarily and while Shen Yuan is going through the motions, bereft of the pidw update, bingge finally catches him 💖💖💖 and Shen Yuan is forced to face the protagonist and his massive obsession

Imagine being Shen Yuan, faithful hate reader of Proud Immortal Demon Way, the 30 million world "hit classic" trashfire, ever imitated, hot blood ed stallion novel.... That finished like a wet fart!!!

After a week reeling, you pick yourself up, get on with your life (reading every PiDW fanfic you can get your grubby hands on, and leaving back handed comments like "this was shitty from start to finish, but still managed to be better than anything airplane ever wrote") until one day, Airplane publishes some extras?

And it's WEIRD AS HELL! Alternate universes?? Bing-ge fighting, what, bingmei??? Who is this weak willed protagonist?!?!?! And what's with bing-ge doing.... THAT, with... With SHEN QINGQIU!!!! He's a hot blooded STRAIGHT lover of women!!! Stop describing Shen Qingqiu's eyes like that bing-ge he's not good for you?

But, it doesn't stop at one extra?? Every day a new chapter comes out, following Luo Binghe as he tries to find that "kind" version of his Shizun... Why is this universe hopping romance thriller so fascinating??? The comments are full of hate, airplane's rep is in the trash, nearly EVERYONE is hate reading now...

Eventually Bing-ge begins the believe that SQQ has been possessed in some way, and comes up with a clever way to discover the true name of that Shen Qingqiu!

Anyway, that's your name, Shen Yuan, right there on the screen??? What the fuck.

What the fuck "great master" airplane!!! Bro!!

It was just some salty comments okay no need to take things so seriously 💀💀💀💀

This weird doxx doesn't seem to go anywhere? So you just keep reading! Okay airplane, point taken, no more nasty comments! Peerless Cucumber will keep things quiet from now on!! Luo Binghe begins a search for "Shen Yuan", finding... Finding his way to the real world, with Xin Mo? Okay...

Every day another chapter comes out, and every day it gets weirder? That's - that's your city?? That Binghe is familiarising himself with? You read about him usurping violent gangs, unrest and danger leaking out into the daylight world, murders and mayhem, and every siren you hear outside seems more and more -

- your parents call? Apparently there is something dangerous happening in your city? Don't be ridiculous...

Every word... Your street... Your apartment block? Binghe! You live on the twelfth floor just take the elevator, not the stairs!!

Maybe you should, um, go out for tea?

Just as the elevator doors are closing, you hear the door to the stair well creaking open, footsteps that are neither slow nor fast, quiet not loud, reaching the landing of your floor... Through the thinnest crack you see...

[misc-obeyme]

Can I request a drabble.

Diavolo finds Barbatos and reader son from the future.  So he rush off to to show reader her son . She is just super confused of what happening.  All she knows is Diavolo drag her out of class and shove a kid in her face. Saying reader meet your cute son. Now she skipping class to babysitting her kid from the future with Barbatos.

Hiiii anon. Here I finally am, a whole six months after you sent this request... hopefully you're still around to read it!

I'm not much good at writing about kids, but I did my best. It got super cheese at the end, but that's also kinda my style.

I didn't use any gendered terms, so I think this could successfully be read as a gender neutral MC. And however this kid came about is up for interpretation lol. Also I made up whatever about time powers to suit my needs, don't look at that part too closely, okay thanks.

Barbatos x GN!MC

Warnings: MC & Barbatos have a son, as per the request, but that is all!

Diavolo blinked in astonishment at the small child before him. He was just a little guy, barely walking. He had toddled out of a time portal, which he seemed to have created himself. He looked up at Diavolo, grinned widely, and stretched up his hands.

"Diaaa~" he said in a small almost sing song voice. He made grabbing motions with his hands.

Diavolo looked around, as if there was anyone else that the child could be referring to. Then he leaned down. "Me?"

"Dia!" the child squeaked, jumping a little to emphasize his point.

Diavolo straightened. "Where did you come from?"

The child continued to make grabby hands at him and that's when he saw it - a tail.

That tail looked really familiar. In fact, now that Diavolo was over his initial shock, he thought this child looked very familiar in general.

And then it hit him. This little boy looked exactly like you, except for the tail. That tail was all Barbatos.

Diavolo clasped his hands together in glee and he couldn't suppress a grin. "Oh you must have inherited Barbatos's time powers! I have to show MC!"

Diavolo scooped up the boy, who seemed to be absolutely thrilled about this new development. He laughed happily in Diavolo's arms as the next demon king made his way through the halls of RAD where he knew you were in class. This was a special occasion, so he didn't feel the least bit of hesitation about pulling you away from your lecture on Devildom Law.

You frowned at him as you came out into the hallway at his request. "What's going on, Lord Diavolo? Is something wrong?"

Diavolo held the little boy up at your eye level. "Look, MC! Isn't he adorable?"

The little boy giggled and waved his chubby hands at you.

"Um, yeah, he's cute, but who is he?" you asked, completely baffled.

Diavolo pulled him back to give you a funny look. "Can't you tell? He looks just like you! But see - he has Barbatos's tail."

Diavolo lifted him a little so you could see the tail swishing back and forth. It was indeed an exact replica of Barbatos's, but much smaller.

You blinked. "I still don't understand."

Diavolo grinned happily. "He showed up out of nowhere in the RAD council room! I think he must have accidentally gone back in time. As the son of Barbatos, he would have inherited that particular ability."

The reality of this situation suddenly washed over you and you blushed. "Wait," you said. "You're saying this is… my son? With Barbatos?"

"I'm pretty sure, yes!" Diavolo said joyously, seemingly oblivious to your state of embarrassment.

Just how far into the future was this kid from? You and Barbatos had an interesting relationship, but you weren't even dating. You certainly had a crush on him and he seemed to be perfectly aware of it considering how much he teased you. But you were years away from children.

Diavolo put the boy in your arms. "You have to take him now, though. We have to send him back to his time and for that we'll need Barbatos. I think he's in the home economics classroom. You can entertain the little guy while I go explain things, right?"

Diavolo didn't wait for your response and he was already halfway down the hall by the time you figured out what he'd even said.

"You want me to babysit my own kid from the future?" you asked.

The little boy in your arms giggled before laying his head on your shoulder, seemingly content to be there with you. He seemed to know you by feel and your heart melted entirely.

"Well, okay," you said softly, rocking him a little and holding his chubby hand. His tail wrapped around your wrist. "But when you get back, you better tell your dad to keep a better eye on you."

Your son yawned as he became comfortable on your shoulder. He had been through plenty of excitement already, so it was no surprise to you when he drifted off. Fortunately, you were only there for a short time before you saw Barbatos hurrying down the hallway with Diavolo behind him. He stopped short when he saw you.

You watched as Barbatos took in the sight before him - you standing there with your son sleeping on your shoulder, his little tail just like his father's wrapped around your wrist. You smiled at him gently over your son's head. Barbatos rarely gave away his emotions, but if you didn't know better, you might have mistaken the softness in his eyes for tears.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[jessjad]

Please? I have a Dean Winchester x reader request. The idea I had was the reader coming back from trying to have a normal life after 2 years but being saved by Dean from her abusive ex-boyfriend, who was possessed by a demon. She calls him from a motel after escaping from the attack and almost getting killed.

Feel free to message me if you want to ask questions. I can't wait to read it.

A/N: So, this request from @ravenrose18 immediately sparked some ideas. And I was changing things over and over again. This could've gone so many ways and I think I got the best compromise out of it all. I hope, you like it, lovely! Thanks so much for sharing your request with me! 💜

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2948

Warnings: 18+ only!!! (Only for the violence), tension, abuse, cuts, wounds, angst, feelings.

My Masterlist

Voice from the past

Dean was nervous. Really nervous. He was driving toward Arkansas City. As Baby purred gently across the streets, AC/DC played softly on the radio. The almost four-hour journey from Lebanon seemed to never end, even though there was so much distance behind him. He was only about thirty minutes away to be exact, but it still felt like a long way away. But even if he had had to drive another four hours, he would have done it.

He kept thinking back to last week. The day he got a message that he hadn't really expected. It came from Y/N. Sam would now say 'the Y/N' and somehow he was right. Even though Dean wouldn't admit it, of course.

But Y/N had been a part of his life for a long time. She grew up with Bobby after he was the only one who saved her from the clutches of a werewolf. Unfortunately, her family wasn't so lucky. And since Dean and Sam were often at Bobby's and somehow grew up there themselves, they had become friends over the years.

Y/N had also grown up as a hunter and Dean had taught her to shoot at some point. She got better and better as time went on, becoming more fearless and brave. And Dean had to admit then and there that he had fallen in love. Feelings that still persist to this day.

That's exactly why he didn't like thinking back to his last conversation with her. It was almost two years ago when Y/N explained to him that she wanted to give up the hunter life. Dean hadn't really known how to react. Over the years they had solved cases together and traveled together, even if their paths had always diverged. But the fact that she wanted to quit because of a guy surprised the older Winchester.

Todd. His name was Todd. Urgh...was there a name that sounded even more wimpy? He wouldn't be surprised if he drank warm milk. Dean cleared his throat briefly at that thought. Okay, maybe the jealousy came out of him for a moment. And maybe also the disappointment that he simply couldn't find the heart to tell her that he wanted to keep her by his side. That she was important to him.

But well, maybe now he had a new opportunity to do so. Because according to her own statement, Todd was now a thing of the past and she wanted to go back to the hunter life. A second chance. And Dean was determined to use it too.

A moment later his cell phone rang and when he saw Y/N calling him, his heart beat a little faster. This was the first time Y/N actually called since she contacted him. He answered the call with a small grin.

"Hey, sweatheart. I'm not even twenty minutes away. I could stop and bring us some greasy burgers. What do you think?"

But he didn't get an immediate answer.

"Hello? Y/N?" he asked again and then he heard it.

Heavy breathing and a slight wince. He furrowed his brows and worry spread through him. But again it took a few seconds before he got an answer.

"Dean?" came faintly and with a pained undertone from the other side.

This was definitely not what he expected and he automatically stepped on the gas a little more.

"What happened?"

It stinked. This motel smelled. The worn out carpet, the musty bed linen, the tattered curtains. Even the wallpaper seemed to give off a foul smell. And yet Y/N was happy that she had somehow made it here. The hotel was abandoned, no longer in use, and she was lucky that the door to this room at the back of the building wasn't locked. Even if it had taken a lot of effort for her to even get in.

Now Y/N was crouched behind the bed in the corner and the adrenaline that had given her the strength and stamina to make it this far was slowly wearing off. And the more she calmed down, the more her body began to ache. The cuts on her arms and legs were the least of her problems. Her ankle was now throbbing quite badly and she knew she had several bruises.

Her heart was racing and she tried to calm down, but it wasn't that easy. Every time she tried to take a deep breath, her chest would rebel and her left shoulder would experience stabbing pain. She didn't have to question the fact that this was probably the worst injury.

Y/N carefully tried to pull the jacket off her shoulder when she noticed that she was losing more and more feeling in her left arm. She huffed and moaned slightly. The makeshift bandage that Y/N had pressed over the gaping wound was now soaked with blood and small red rivulets were making their way down her arm.

She was in pretty bad shape.

This was not how Y/N had imagined her return to hunter life. She slowly tried to sit up a little, but failed. With a dejected laugh, she briefly closed her eyes and tried to suppress the tears that wanted to make their way down her cheeks. When did everything go so wrong? She had just wanted to meet Dean to get up to speed. And now here she was, lying on the dirty floor of a disused motel, probably bleeding to death.

But then her memory got a little jolt. Dean! She had to call Dean. And so, with a blood-stained hand, she strained to fish her cell phone out of her back pocket. It still took three more attempts to dial his number.

As she listened to the beep, she realized that she was slowly losing consciousness. Y/N is finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate and stay awake. But as soon as she heard Dean's deep voice greeting her happily, it gave her another push.

But she still found it difficult to speak and her body seemed to ring like an alarm with every movement.

"I'm... not in Arkansas City... anymore." she replied almost breathlessly.

"Where are you?" came the question in a firm and determined voice.

"I'm... in an abandoned... motel outside... of Winfield." Y/N suppressed a painful groan. "Dean... I'm... hurt pretty bad."

There was a brief, almost unsettling silence before Dean spoke again.

"Okay, listen. Don't move and try to stay calm. I'll be right there. The only thing you have to do is stay awake. Alright? Don't fall asleep."

She agreed to this as best she could and after giving Dean the name and room number, they hung up.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Y/N heard her pulse racing and the blood rushing in her ears. Still, she tried to stay awake. With her right hand she lightly pressed the wound on her left shoulder. The small pulses of pain that the pressure sent through her body helped her. That, and the thought of Dean. His green eyes, the mischievous smile, his dark voice.

Y/N had been in love with him for such a long time now. She couldn't even remember when it happened. But she had known that she had to free herself from him at some point. Because it was clear that he would never feel the same for her. All the women he spent the nights with, at one point it had been to much. And when Todd showed up in her life two years ago, it was almost like a sign.

But she didn't think that the exit and the distance from Dean would draw her back to him. She loved him and she wanted to at least try to win him over.

So she had talked to Todd. He had been nice from the start. He had been charming and always seemed as if there were no problems in the world that couldn't be solved somehow. He had embodied freedom and somehow Y/N had wanted that too. The hunter's life was hard and you had to renounce many things.

She had really liked him, but nothing more had come of it over time. And then over a year in, he started to change. He got more and more aggressiv, until he had hit her the first time. That was three monts ago. At first she had not known how to react to that, but the more the abuse happened, the more she knew she had to get away.

So she explained to him that she wanted to go back to her old life. She hadn't mentioned that that also meant Dean. Todd didn't take the decision too well. He was furious and she had feared that he would attack her. So she bolted to Arkansas City. But of course he found her there and his black eyes stared into hers as he stabbed the knife into her shoulder.

"How could... I be so stupid?" Y/N said to herself. “Why didn’t I... notice anything?”

Her head started to spin and every second felt like an hour. She slipped in and out of consciousness. She had to try harder and harder to stay awake. And just when she thought she could not do it anymore, the door busted open and she heared Dean calling her.

When Dean spotted Y/N behind the bed and knelt down in front of her, he had to swallow. She looked pale, weak and fragile. Not at all like the young, cheeky woman he remembered. But he just couldn't let that show. He carefully touched her lower leg and Y/N opened her eyes.

As soon as she saw Dean, her tears flowed and relief was written all over her face. It almost broke his heart because it had taken him a little longer to find the motel and the more time passed, the more she probably lost hope that he would find her in time.

"What happened? Can you move?" He immediately saw the blood trickling down her left arm and looked around for something he could use as a bandage.

"It was Todd. He followed me down to... Arkansas City. He... was possessed by a demon. I... I didn't notice." As she spoke, she tried to stand up, but she lacked the strength.

"Okay, slow down." Dean was immediately at her side, stabilizing her so she didn't collapse.

"It must have... happened when... he was out and about. The... demon wanted revenge. I killed... a friend... probably three years ago."

"Huh." Dean responded, but that wasn't rare at all. "Is he on your heels?"

Dean had taken off his shirt and balled it up and was pushing it onto her shoulder. They couldn't stay here long. Y/N had to go to a hospital.

"No. I... shot him with a devil's trap bullet." now Dean looked at her in surprise. "The weapon... you gave me."

Relief flooded his heart now. The gun had been his parting gift. You could never be sure. Still, he would send out a hunter bat signal so someone would check on Todd and make sure he was no longer a threat.

"Okay, Y/N, I'm going to pick you up now. Or do I have to do a once over?"

The young woman next to him laughed dryly. "No. My shoulder is messed up. My ankle is most likely busted. But other than that I'm fine."

Dean had to grin. There was a little glimpse of the Y/N he knew. But they didn't have much time left. He could see that she was losing her strength. So he carefully took her into his arms. Something she couldn't endure without a pained groan.

Soon she was safely seated in the front seat of the Impala. By now Dean had changed his fully drenched shirt with a spare towel he had in his trunk. He gritted his theeth, because it seemed that Y/N was pressing the towel down on her shoulder like she was holding on for dear life.

Dean slid behind the steering wheel and immediately drove off. It was oddly quiet in the car and his knuckles turned white. He glanzed over to Y/N every now and then to make sure that she was still awake. The hospital in Winfield was still a ways away, but he was determined to get there as quickly as possible.

Dean heared Y/N whimper everytime he drove over a bump on the street. He apologized everytime, too. But otherwise he did not know what to say. The silence almost killed him but time was not flying by fast enough. And then, Y/N decided to talk.

"Dean?" her weak voice bled over the engine of the Impala while she kept pressing the towel on her shoulder. "I have to tell you... something..."

"Don't speak now. You need all your energy that's left in you, sweetheart. Just stay awake, will you?"

Dean's knuckles once again became white while he was holding the steering wheel. He also increased the speed he was driving at. The hospital was not far away anymore, but she had lost a lot of blood by now and that was what really worried him.

"But I... have to tell... you." She said again, but her mind became foggy and she started to feel sleepy.

"Nothing can be that important right now. And when you're thinking of sayin' goodbye to me, quit it. Not gonna happen. So, hold on. We're almost there."

For a second he thought he'd won, buit then Y/N crushed his heart.

"I love you." her words rang in his ears, although he could not really believe it. But she then made sure her message came through. "I've been in love with you... for such as long time... now and... I just wanted you... to know that."

And with her last breath she closed her eyes, not being able to stay awake anymore. Dean's voice accompanied her into the darkness, calling out to her.

An annoying beep woke Y/N from her sleep, but waking up wasn't that easy. Her head was pounding a bit and a bright white light made it difficult for her to open her eyes. When she finally made it, she realized she was lying in a bed and was hooked up to monitors. They had made it to the hospital.

She looked around further and spotted Dean sleeping in a chair next to her bed. His head hung back a bit and his mouth was slightly open. It almost looked like he was drooling a little. How could such a strong man be so adorkably cute?

Suddenly he jumped up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. When he saw that Y/N had woken up, he got up and came over to her.

"Y/N! You're awake. How are you? Do you need anything?" Inwardly he wanted to take her hand in his, but he held back.

"No, no, I..." she tried to sit up a little, but it didn't really work.

Dean helped her position the headboard high enough to jer liking. He also gave her a glass of water that she didn't actually asked for. Nevertheless, she accepted it gratefully.

"So? How about me?" Y/N asked and Dean scratched the back of his neck lightly.

"Perhaps a doctor should explain this to you." he replied, already making his way to the door.

"Wait!" she stopped Dean. "Explain it to me. Please."

How could he say 'no' to that? So he came back to her and looked at her with a crooked smile.

"You have several cuts and bruises on your body. A bruised rib and your ankle is sprained. But that will probably sort itself out over time. Your shoulder did need surgery though. Something with the spina specu... spina... spinach something."

Y/N giggled, but put her hand over her mouth so Dean wouldn't see it as he continued. "But that too could be repaired and in a few months... you should be back to your old self."

"Well, that's what I call an exciting reunion." She joked, but Dean didn't seem too keen on it.

"I could have thought of better things than taking you to the hospital covered in blood and seriously injured."

And he was serious. It would be a lie if he said that seeing her like that didn't bother him. The thoughts he'd had about her when they'd left him sitting in the waiting room. When no doctor or nurse wanted to talk to him, update him. When his heart had been gripped by an iron hand that had almost stopped him from breathing.

Hopefully he would never have to go through this again.

"I'm sorry." said Y/N with a small voice and lowered her head.

Dean balled his hand to fists and turned fully to her. "I was really afraid for you. Especially when you suddenly stopped talking in the car."

And suddenly Y/N remembered the last thing she said to Dean. Her eyes widened and she didn't have to look up to know that the elephant in the room was now literally there. Nevertheless, she suddenly felt a little nervous and couldn't say anything.

"The doc said that you need to stay a couple more days in the hospital and after that... I'll take you with me to Lebanon." Now Y/N looked up again. "We need to talk."

"Dean, I..." she started, but when she saw that Dean walked up to her to take her hand in his, she felt silent again.

"I love you, too." He then finally said and Y/N looked up at him in surprise. "And if you let me, I'll never let you out of my sight again."

A/N: That’s it. It was really fun and I hope you liked it. 😊 Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

Everything Taglist:

@lyarr24 @k-slla @nk1023 @iloveeveryoneyouramazing

[s0urw00lf]

Out of love

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Summary: You find out why Sam has been acting so distant lately.

An: cried writing this. Hope you cry reading it :) also may be mistakes. Not proofread.

Divider from… i don’t know i lost the creator :/

You cant say you’re lonely. No that wouldn’t be fair, you had Sam, Bobby, Jo, Ellen. And that was more than enough. But you still felt cold, empty and alone.

Sitting on the couch of the motel it was 3 a.m. and Sam and had fallen asleep a long time ago, and you were somewhat glad, because he hadn’t been sleeping at all since dean was torn apart in front of you and dragged to hell. To be completely honest you hadn’t been sleeping either, but you worried more about Sam driving himself to death than you.

Deans time had ended a month and a half ago. Seventy-two days to be exact, and night mares had plagued the both of you like never before. You’d tried everything in your power to change his fate. To save your family, but dean was the foundation and without him everything fell apart.

Sam had been different. More aggitated and aggressive, angry. Even with you, and when he wasn’t upset with you he was downright ignoring you. He wouldn’t acknowledge you when you walked in a room. Or when you asked him a question, he was always in his phone, as if waiting for a message or a call. You chalked it up to him not believing Dean was actually gone, because you yourself still felt your heart skip a beat when you got a message or a call, hoping and praying for it to be dean.

You however started to be more skeptical when Sam started to sneak away, or just flat out leave for hours at a time, and when he’d come back you’d ask him where he’d been he’d give you some half thought out excuse of “i needed some air” or “i was running some errands” but he never returned with anything.

So that’s why you sat here biting your lip, bouncing your leg and hoping you wouldn’t find what you thought you’d find in his phone. You never thought you’d question Sam’s loyalty to you, but something was going on and if he wouldn’t be honest with you about it then you’d have to find out by yourself.

You let out a shaky breath before opening his phone. His passcode was still the same, deans birthday. You clicked on his messages and the first name you read was ruby. Your eyebrows raised, you’d asked him months ago if he’d still been talking to ruby and he denied it with an attitude. Your heart clenched at the thought of what you might find when you opened their messages.

With shaky fingers you clicked on her name and immediately your heart shattered at Sam’s most recent message to her.

‘Ruby where are you?’

‘I need you, i need more’

You shut off the phone, not needing to see any more. You let out a quiet sob, covering your mouth with your shaky hands. You don’t understand he’s cheating on you. With ruby. A demon. All the while you sat here, hoping to find a solution to bring his brother back from hell.

You looked over to his sleeping form, his chest rose and fell slowly and your chest began to feel empty, an attempt to numb your aching heart which didn’t do you any well. You looked round the room, at the mix of his and your belongings.

You knew what you had to do, the only thing you had left to do. Leave.

You wouldn’t say anything to him, not that you had anything to say, you wouldn’t try to make him love you again, or beg from him to see you how he used to because it was a lost cause. Your Sam was gone. Completely, tainted by the works of a demon and he couldn’t see it.

Ruby had stuck her claws into him and made him into her own little puppet, and if this was the road he wants to go down you wont stop him, but you sure as hell wont sit around and watch it happen.

You heard Sam stir just as you zipped up your bag, you paused hoping he wouldn’t wake up but you knew how much of a light sleeper he was and how low that probability was. You closed your eyes at being caught and not just leaving like you’d hoped.

“What’re you doing?” Sam questioned with a groggy voice. You swallowed thickly in hopes your voice wouldn’t break when you spoke “leaving.” You say simply as tears streamed down your face. Sam sat up in his bed a deep frown on his face. “What? Why?” He asked urgently. That was the most care he’d used in his tone in such a long time, he almost sounded like his old self.

You moved over to the table where you left his phone, picked it up and tossed it to him. only allowing him to see your tear stricken face for a second before you turned you back to him again. “Ruby says you know where to find her.” You say.

Oh

Oh..

Sam looks at his phone with guilt eyes. You knew, and for whatever reason you weren’t angry with him. If you were you weren’t showing it. He’d expected you to blow up, hit him, yell at him. Threaten to kill him even. But nothing. None of that happened and that hurt him even more than if you would’ve. Because that meant he’d completely broken your heart, you ran out of care and energy. Sam had completely drained you and he knew it.

“Y/n-“ you finally turned around, cutting him off with teary eyes and a shaky voice “No. No sam, don’t do that. Don’t apologize. Don’t be sorry. You knew what you were doing, don’t feel bad just because you got caught” you say

You bite your lip, holding your breath to keep in a sob that had been begging to be let out. Sam puts his head down in shame. He did, know what he was doing. From the very beginning. He didn’t stop it and now it was too late. Now you were leaving him. By choice.

“Just tell me this one thing” you say, making him look back up to you expectantly. “When did you stop… loving me?” You hated how weak you sounded. How stupid you felt asking that question to a man who cheated on you with a demon.

Sam’s eyes widened with worry “never” he said quickly, shaking his head as he stood up from the bed, moving towards you “y/n i never-“ You took a step back holding up your hand to stop him. You shook your head telling him not to come any closer.

He nodded, averting his eyes guiltily. You grabbed your bag, moving towards the door. Sam watched your hand hover over the handle and for a second he hoped that you’d stay. Give him another chance but then those words slipped passed your lips and the remainder of his world shattered.

“Goodbye Sam”

[kabr0ztrousers]

How about helping a penis-having demon friend of yours who is just entering heat/rut? The gentler early stages of it, but getting more intense as time goes on until their arranged heat partner arrives and helps you. Lots of cum, begging, and then some nice aftercare :) (demon top, femme male human bottom, please?)

I hope that's not too specific!

- @zeal-kitten 🩷

Now here's the million dollar question: did Zeal request this, or did someone else, knowing they'd get off to it?

Kabr0z Writes episode 50: Hot as Hell

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Hell; demons; light femdom; anal sex; excessive cum; group sex;

A/N: Wow, 50 of these! I absolutely should've planned for this, but if I'm totally honest I wasn't expecting to get this far!

If you want to support me in writing an episode a day until the 31st of December, it's totally free! Just send a request to my asks or DMs! Near enough anything's fair game, check the pinned if you're unsure!

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It's early evening in your little corner of Hell.

You were sent here a decade or two ago after an unfortunate incident involving an angry horse and your chest cavity. Turns out, being gay still gets you sent here. On the plus side, Hell really is infinite so there's plenty of housing, you're already dead so there's no need for food, and everyone in Heaven is a prude anyway. You're told it's only worth it if you're really into bright lights, liturgical chanting and harps, and you can get that down here too if you want.

Since getting here you'd made a few friends, one of whom was on the sofa next to you, helping you decide on the movie for the night.

Shg'shthg, like all demons, had the ability to alter his shape to his liking. He was slightly taller than you, even without the ram's horns curling from his brow. His skin was bluish-white, decorated with row upon row of swimming black runes subtly moving across every inch of his body. The characteristic long claws fashionable amongst demons currently held your TV remote in one hand and a sending stone in the other as he scrolled through the list.

"Satan's breath, every single piece of media humanity's ever created, and absolutely nothing to watch... How about Love's Labour's Won?"

You sighed "Shakespeare again? Like, it was nice the first hundred times, at least put on Edward III"

Shg'shthg looked at you "I was there when he was king, and the play is so wrong it's actually insulting. You know how I feel about the historys"

"When's D'Nzro getting here anyway?"

The demon beside you rolled his eyes "She's stuck in traffic. I keep telling her to get some wings but noooo" he waved his hands "She has to drive a car"

You laughed. Hell is, of course, Hell. No matter how decent life was down here, everything was just a little bit shit.

The TV flicked to a film, some B-movie about a bunch of sharks in a tornado. You looked over at the demon next you you. He was trying to focus on the TV, but you could see him starting to squirm in his seat. Sweat beaded on his brow as he checked his sending stone again. He crossed and un-crossed his legs, over and over, the beads of perspiration starting to roll down his head.

"You OK?"

He looked at you, the faint bluish tinge of his skin deepening, the text scrolling faster across his face "I wasn't expecting it to come this week..." His eyes screwed shut as his head tipped back "I need to ask you a favour"

"What do you need? I'll do it" you agreed a little hastily, but despite conventional wisdom you did trust this demon

"It's my heat, I need to fuck someone. Normally it'd be D'Nzro but she's-"

"Not here" you leant over the demon next to you. You won't pretend you hadn't fantasized about getting with the buff incubus, but you'd rather hoped for a more romantic setting. You kissed, gently at first. Shg'shthg whined in his throat, his desperate eyes wide and dark, looking up at you. You kissed him again, this time letting him push his tongue up into your mouth. He tasted of cigarette smoke and iron. You sucked gently on his tongue, allowing one of your hands to slide up his leg to his crotch. You could already feel the heat of his cock through his pants, opening them and allowing it to spring free.

You looked at it, leaking a thin stream of steaming fluid from its tapered tip, those same glyphs running up and down the shaft, speeding up in time with the throbbing of his inhuman cock.

One hand cradling his balls, you slowly licked the shaft, tasting the sticky precum running in rivulets onto your tongue. You reached the tip, placing your lips on it, letting the fluid leak out into your mouth, sucking it straight from the tap.

"Please" the demon breathed. You could feel the hand on the back of your neck, straining against the desire to force this cock down your throat.

You bobbed your head, taking the first couple of inches of the cock in your mouth, gently sucking as you played with his balls. Your other hand wrapped around the shaft, teasing the base as you sucked on the tip. Shg'shthg was groaning, the pulsing precum tasting richer and thicker. Your hand clenched on where his scotum, where it met his body, stopping his balls receding all the way. You spoke around the cock, eking out words between sucks "You wanna cum in my mouth?"

Shg'shthg nodded, whining and panting, the text on his body whirling with your edging, precum squirting from him in sticky spurts, filling and drooling out of your mouth to coat your chin.

You dipped your head deeper, sucking faster and harder, squeezing the base of his cock and massaging the balls as they shrank into him. He groaned, the hand on your head pushing down as the cock in your mouth spasmed and filled with cum, pumping it into your mouth as you struggled to swallow it all. It flooded your mouth, spurting from your lips, flooding your sinuses as it poured from your nose.

You pulled your mouth away from the cock as the last spurts pulsed out, covering your face. The door opened behind you, D'Nzro stepped in, her heels clicking on the floor. You looked at her, she saw you kneeling over her boyfriend, cock in hand, face covered in his cum.

"Let me guess. He told you he wasn't expecting his heat cycle so soon, and convinced you to suck him off?" Her voice was imperious, somewhere between a stern teacher and a vicious taskmistress

You nodded, taking in her body. Skin like tanned leather, eyes like coals, and two rows of short horns running down her shaved head

She grabbed you by your slight waist, lifting you so you straddled the incubus below you "Well, in that case, you've both been naughty boys." One clawed finger cut a slit in the ass of your jeans and your boxers, leaving your tight asshole unprotected "Naughty boys get punished." She held you with one hand, the other scooping up a handful of the demon-seed pooling on your sofa before slathering it on your ass, pushing it into your hole, before setting you down on Shg'shthg's lap, his still-hard cock resting against your back.

Shg'shthg's hands were on your waist now.

"Lift him up"

He lifted, lining your puckered hole up with the pointed tip of the cock you'd just drained. D'Nzro pressed the cock into you, a slender claw teasing your ballsack as she did "Drop"

Shg'shthg dropped you. Your weight rammed half his cock into you before you caught yourself.

You groaned as D'Nzro grabbed your hips and started moving you around, pushing you down and rocking your hips against the cock inside you. You leant back, pressing the cock against your prostate, feeling as the hard organ invading you pressed against it, making you leak. Two fingers pushed into your mouth, you sucked on them as you bounced on the cock within you, getting another inch of it in you with every drop.

You didn't care whose fingers you were sucking, whose hand was wrapped around your cock, or whose hands were on your waist, guiding you ever further down. Your aching cock was throbbing as pressure built behind it. Your asshole twitched and your balls rose as you came hard. Groaning and sweating you splattered Shg'shthg with your cum, adding your seed to the pool of cum on his chest and belly. The smell of sex filled your head, still sticky and oozing demon cum from your nostrils.

You were pushed down. The last few inches of the Incubus's huge cock filling you as it twitched and pulsed, spraying heat into you, filling your belly and clouding your thoughts.

D'Nzro pushed you onto Shg'shthg's chest, your dripping cock landing in the pool of mixed cum as it deflated. A blanket fell on top of you, and moments later you heard the kettle boiling, the smell of hot chocolate filling the flat, ousting the omnipresent sulphur.

A few minutes later, you had a warm mug of chocolate milk and two demons cuddling you from either side, watching some terrible B-movie about a flock of evil birds.

Not a bad evening, all things considered

######################################

Hope you don't mind I took some creative license with the request!

Remember that you can submit requests through my ask box or DMs, though the lead time at the moment is the better part of a month, so be warned it probably won't be written soon, though it will be written!

[sirsoggybread]

Visiting Hours|Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x Winchester! Reader- Part Two (Part One) Summary: A Criminal Minds x Supernatural crossover in which the reader finds themselves in the hospital, and Spencer comes to visit. Warnings: Typical mentions of violence, spoilers for s7/s8 of supernatural, depictions of self-hate and guilt. gn! reader, no use of y/n. WC: 1.6k a/n: Thank you so much to those who read pt1! Sorry these are so short, but I have plans to put out more parts. I'm thinking the series will be 4 or 5 parts once I'm finished. I hope you enjoy!

When you woke up, you were immediately aware of the restricting sensation around your torso, and your eyes snapped open. The quiet, rhythmical beeping and the sight of the plain, white walls jogged your memories. Your shoulders relaxed as you recalled the fight with the demon, dragging yourself to the hospital, and passing out in the lobby. 

Thankfully, you killed the demon before he could go running back to Crowley with a report. Unfortunately, you didn’t kill him before he beat the shit out of you.

Your brows furrowed as your eyes landed on the man sitting beside your hospital bed. He looked familiar, but you didn’t recognize him until he spoke. It wasn’t his voice that made you realize who he was, but the quiet and hesitant way that he talked, like he was afraid he’d scare you off. “How are you feeling?” Your head fell back onto your pillow with a groan, “How’d you find me?”

“Um… I didn’t find you, the hospital called me. You… still had my card on you.” He explained, sitting up in his chair. His mind raced with all of the questions he had for you, unsure of which one to ask first. “What happened to you?”

“Some guy couldn’t take no for an answer.” The lie rolled off of your tongue so easily he didn’t even question it. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice filled with concern. Of course, you were covered in bruises with a broken arm and gash in your side, but he wanted to know the impact it had on your mental state. “Yeah, I’m fine. You should see the other guy.” You remarked, your lips curling into a small, amused smile. Spencer managed a weak laugh. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“You said to call you if I needed anything, and I didn’t.” You answered simply. “Why’d you even come? Isn’t D.C like a 5 and a half hour drive?” You couldn’t understand why he cared so much when he barely even knew you. “Actually, the drive from D.C.to New Haven averages around 5 hours and 8 minutes, but I took the train so it was 5 hours and 42 minutes.” He quickly corrected, “And I think being attacked is considered ‘needing something.’” “Sorry,” You mumbled, though you were clearly unapologetic. He let out a bitter huff at your response. 

He watched in silence as you pulled the thin, blue comforter closer to you in an attempt to get warmer. He knew he should probably let you rest, but his mind was still racing with questions. He at least had to ask the one question that was nagging at him the most, despite however superficial he thought it may be. “Why did you… keep my card? I expected you to… throw it away the first chance you got.” You swallowed, because you didn’t really know why you decided to keep it. Maybe it was his nervous demeanor that you found endearing, or his genuine concern for you despite being complete strangers, or maybe you just liked having a direct line to the FBI- yeah, let’s go with that. “Maybe, I just like the idea of having an FBI Agent in my back pocket.” You finally answered, shrugging as much as your broken arm would allow you to. Spencer hummed in response, though your answer did little to satisfy him. Mostly because he suspected that it wasn’t true, but he didn’t push. He hesitated before he spoke again, “Would it… be alright if I… visited you while you’re in the hospital?” You wanted to tell him yes, but you knew it wasn’t a good idea to get attached, and you weren’t sure how long you were going to be here anyway. You were planning on getting out as soon as you could, regardless of whatever your doctor said. You inhaled deeply, opening your eyes once again as you asked, “Why do you care?” “I don’t know. I just do,” He admitted quietly, his eyes meeting yours. “Is that a bad thing?”

You didn’t answer, because you didn’t want to tell him that it was a bad thing. People who cared about you -people you cared about- got hurt. A trail of bodies, loved ones, followed you wherever you went. Keeping that list short was the best way to keep other people safe. To keep yourself safe.

You raised your eyebrow, “You’re gonna stay in New Haven just for little ol’ me?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He confessed softly, keeping his eyes trained on his hands. You tried to ignore the way your chest tightened at his words.

“You don’t… have any family, do you?” He asked, but it was more of an observation and less of a question.

“I do.” You corrected him, in an almost defensive manner.

He shook his head, an expression of confusion crossing his face. “Then, why haven’t you called them?”

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms.” You replied in a sharp tone.

He recognized the warning in your voice, and realized his questions were getting too personal. “Oh,” He breathed out, his lips tugging into a sympathetic pout.

His questions were annoying, but you knew they came from a place of care and concern. A place deep inside his chest that was far more gentle and kind than you could ever be. 

He rode a train for 5 hours and 42 minutes just to ask if you were okay. He sat beside you, waiting in an uncomfortable hospital chair while you slept and you couldn’t figure out why. It nagged at the back of your mind like an itch you couldn’t scratch. What about you was so worth caring about?

An awkward silence settled over the two of you as both of you had questions on your mind that neither of you were willing to ask. You were the first to break it, “Think they got anything good on here?” You asked, picking up the remote to the small TV mounted on the wall across from you.

He let out a quiet breath of relief, and turned his attention to the TV, watching as you flipped through the few channels. “Hmm, they have Animal Planet, we could watch that.” He suggested with a hum. “Alright, I’m the one with the broken arm, here. I get to pick.” You clicked on the Animal Planet channel. An amused smile graced his features, and a similar one threatened to tug at your own lips. Hours passed by without you even realizing. You each had your eyes locked onto the TV, making quiet, non-personal conversation about what you watched. You made dumb comments that you had to clarify were jokes, and Spencer would elaborate on some of the facts mentioned by the narrator.

It was nice- relaxing, sitting here and watching TV with him. It felt almost unnatural. You ignored the way your gut twisted as if you were doing something wrong for enjoying yourself, even if it was only for a few hours.

Spencer glanced out the small window of your hotel room, the sun was setting and it was growing late. He took a deep breath and stood from his chair, “I should… probably go. It’s getting late.”

You nodded in agreement, and cursed yourself internally for your reluctance to do so. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”

“Can I… visit you again tomorrow?” He asked, nervously rocking back and forth on his feet.

Your mouth twitched into a small smile and you nodded tentatively, “Yeah, you can.” When he left the room, the guilt settled on your chest. You should be thinking about finding Dean, or protecting Kevin, or looking for your next case. Instead, you were indulging in this- this… whatever it was that Spencer did to you.

You shifted uncomfortably in the springy bed. The TV still played quietly in the background as you let your eyes close, and attempted to clear your mind enough to fall asleep.

—

Your phone buzzing on the overbed table is what pulled you out of your sleep. Being woken up made you wonder if God hated you. You could almost never afford more than four hours of sleep, and when those rare opportunities to sleep-in presented themselves, you still didn’t get to enjoy them.

“Hey,” You mumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hey,” It was Kevin. It was always Kevin, he was the only person you really talked to anymore.

“Don’t tell me you got me another case already?” You huffed, though you would’ve jumped at the chance. Cases were constant, these past few months you had buried yourself in them, they made for a good distraction.

“No, but I got more on Maine.”

You sat up quickly, your heart thumping loudly in your ears. It doesn’t matter how many dead-end leads the two of you had discovered, every time something new came along, you couldn’t help but be hopeful. Though, for once, this lead seemed substantial- worth investigating. So much so, it made your heart race and your breath shorten when you thought about it.

You changed out of the paper gown while Kevin told you about the possible portal to Purgatory located somewhere in Maine. Racing to get dressed with your arm in a sling wasn’t the easiest task, but you managed. Could this really be it? Could you really be this close to finding Dean? You faltered before you grabbed the handle to the door, glancing over to the empty chair where Spencer sat earlier. It sucked that he’d come back tomorrow and you wouldn’t be here. You almost felt bad for leaving without a goodbye, but this was more important. You pushed the guilt down and slipped down the quiet corridors of the hospital, focusing all your energy on Dean. This had to be it, right? You were actually gonna save him… right?

Tags: @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff @digitallangell @mythness A special thank you to you guys, it made me so happy to see people enjoying my work.

[demonslayedher]

So this clears the air--Sabito makes a roundabout acknowledgment of Giyuu feeling he did not prove himself, while also saving face for Murata, whom Sabito is grateful to. Giyuu understands Sabito's intentions, so he chooses not to argue and just do his best to accept being a Corp member. Murata also catches on to what Sabito meant, but Murata is also easy to mess with, so Sabito can't help himself with the opportunity to tease Murata by keeping his surname a secret (after Murata leaves the room, he warns Giyuu never to tell him). Murata knows what's up, so he retaliates by telling everyone who knows it to never to let Sabito know his personal name (and that is how I got around the name issue for this fun and stupid and short little fix-it AU).

So anyway, Sabito's arms got shattered when he broke the very hard neck of the Hand Demon, so he hangs out with Urokodaki during the long recovery, whereas Giyuu heals up quick and starts going on missions as soon as his sword is ready. On his first mission, he happens to take down a really, really impressive demon, and this rookie is suddenly the talk of the Corp (which Giyuu finds kinda unsettling, especially since the Final Selection shame is still fresh).

Sabito is proud of him, really--he just always thought they'd go on that first mission or two together, that's all. Sitting around and healing is making him irritable.

But he eventually does heal and they do eventually go on a bunch of missions together, as well as their own solo missions, as well as missions with Murata. Thanks to how easily Sabito cleared the air after the Final Selection, Murata is very comfortable with both of them and likes hanging out with them. The Sabito-Murata-Giyuu ranking system is an ongoing joke. At least, for Sabito and Murata it's a joke.

Yeah, it is rough to work as hard as Murata does and then have two friends like that. But if anyone can handle that and not feel his masculinity threatened, it's Murata.

And like, Murata's cultivator had to have known of Urokodaki. Maybe he even had a huge inferiority complex. Maybe Murata's cultivator has a dark and petty side, somehow taking satisfaction that at least he could train students to survive the Final Selection whereas for so many years, Urokodaki never could. That would be a very interesting angle to explore, especially for what it might say about Murata recognizing that darkness in a man he respects so much, but choosing not to carry that darkness himself. But this is a light and fun and stupid fix-it AU, there is no room for that here.

Sabito and Giyuu often train together, with Sabito never ever going easy on Giyuu, but Giyuu always seemingly effortlessly able to keep up. Sabito, recognizing that Murata is frustrated with his own limits, offers to train with him too. It is quickly apparent that the series of whacks is getting Murata nowhere, and Murata knows it, but he doesn't give up. This is why Sabito has a lot of respect for Murata. He's a man.

He's also easy to tease.

Sabito is shocked--he had no idea Giyuu was ever so close to attaining that, or how quickly Giyuu rose in the first place (Sabito of course has risen almost as quickly).

Giyuu is bashful and awkward about it, since he knows how much of a surprise it will probably come as. After all, he more or less kept his position a secret all this time. He kind of expects Sabito to be mad. Also, Giyuu believes from the very core of his being that had Sabito not injured his arms and they started going on missions at the very same time, Sabito would absolutely be the one in the Water Hashira position. Another reason that Giyuu expects Sabito to be mad.

Sabito is surprised, yes, but he wasn't exactly... mad. He's proud of Giyuu, but kind of hurt that Giyuu was so shifty about it. But anyway, he tries to congratulate Giyuu, but since Giyuu is acting like Sabito should be mad, well, it makes Sabito mad. A Hashira shouldn't be all mopey like that!

Anyway, Murata is aware of all this, he finds this breakdown of communication super awkward. He somewhat friendly, somewhat formally offers Giyuu congratulations, but then tends to hang out a bit more with Sabito (easy to hang out with a fellow non-Hashira, after all). He wants to make sure Sabito is alright (since a part of him wonders if Sabito is mad about Giyuu attaining that rank instead of him), and this provides Sabito the man-to-man opportunity to talk about his feelings and why this all feels so surprising, and kind of strange. Murata gets Sabito's side of the story about them becoming friends and training together on Mt. Sagiri, and how Sabito always felt he had to look out for Giyuu, and like he was the older/stronger/more willful/manlier one in the relationship. At some level, he always wanted to protect Giyuu, not be protected by him. (They have totally watched each other's back plenty in battle by this point.)

Murata hears Sabito out, but makes sure to push him to work things out so that he and Giyuu can be back on friendly terms. They have an important friendship--and Sabito must treasure it, for those sorts of friendships don't last long in this Corp. Plus, he's certain that Giyuu treasures it too.

Giyuu, all by himself (typical Water Hashira behavior), is really bothered by the distance he caused between himself and Sabito, and he really wants to bridge the gap. He finally gets an idea.

Giyuu had been admiring how nice it was for Kanae that she got to keep her sister around all the time for company since she was her Tsuguko, plus, it's a formal way of appointing someone with the skills to be a Hashira, so Giyuu thought that would show his respect for Sabito too. But yeah, there's still the issue of how a Hashira lords over a Tsuguko, so Giyuu totally blames himself for having insulted Sabito like that. So much for their friendship, Giyuu will just embrace being all alone, going along his Hashira duties like nothing else matters, certainly not himself...

...meh, but that doesn't last for long, because Murata helps push them along to talk things out. Giyuu immediately apologizes for having taken the Water Hashira role that rightfully should have been Sabito's. Sabito insists that Giyuu is the right person for the role, and that he has always, always acknowledged Giyuu's talent.

When Giyuu tries to insist his skills are nothing compared to Sabito's strength, Sabito stops him and insists that Water Breath takes many forms. Giyuu's finesse is like a deep, still lake that rises like a tidal wave to swallow enemies whole--it is so far beyond the average Water Breath user's gentle sprinkle of water (Murata is totally hearing all of this and not pleased).

Giyuu takes this chance to explain that he offered the Tsuguko position to Sabito because he already sees him having Hashira caliber and just wanted a reason for them to go on missions together. Sabito gives Giyuu that bittersweet smile, but says that the Tsuguko position would be wasted, for he'd have nothing to learn from Giyuu. His own Water Breath is too different, too thrashing and active to benefit from learning from Giyuu's patient style. Sabito must follow his own path.

Instead, he hopes that Giyuu will instead take great care of Murata, who surely stands to learn a great deal from Giyuu as a Tsuguko. Giyuu doesn't know what to say, but his heart leaps at the realization that he truly is a Hashira, and that even he is capable of raising a true Tsuguko.

Murata is standing beside them, gaping, for no one ever asked him his thoughts about this.

Anyway. Nobody dies. Sabito is miffed about Tanjiro moving through training so quickly with one-on-one attention from Urokodaki that is too loving and gentle so he insists that Tanjiro not go to the Final Selection until he can break the rock (which Urokodaki finds ridiculous, because that was only ever a formality, but hey, Sabito knows a thing or two about surviving the Final Selection so Urokodaki says 'fine' and leaves Tanjiro at the rock for a year). Murata never really gets that much better, but he does benefit from training with Giyuu. They're all friends forever and ever. The end.

[dreaisgrayte]

Wilted Petals | Sanemi x fem!reader Hashira NSFW (18+), MDNI

Synopsis: Sanemi meets yn during the selection, taking a liking to her attitude and spirited way of talking to him. They grow closer due to their shared trauma and become lovers. On the night before their wedding Sanemi ventures out to find one of your favorite flowers. He never returns. That is, the Sanemi you once knew never returns. Warnings: MDNI, NSFW (18+), family death, demon killing, fainting, blood, gore, death, child death, injury, grief, heartbreak, pregnancy, alone, depression, oral (male!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), fingering, raw sex, creampie, breeding kink, obsessive kink, engagement, dirty talk (outside of the bedroom), angst...so much angst.... WC: 13.6k A/n: he calls her Petal 14 times. She was 14 when they first met... I'm not okay. This fucking fic ruined me. This is also mostly unedited...sorry

Sanemi would often tell you how you entirely envelop him. In your eyes, he was able to picture the future. In the timbre of your voice, he could recall the past. In your body, he was grounded in the present time. It was love. 

The world was falling apart around you both, but together you could rebuild anything. To think it all started with a flower. 

7 years ago…

The air was a different kind of weight in your nostrils. You could sense them, the demons. Some of the low-grade ones snarling with inhuman urges. You click your tongue, bored by the whole scheme of this showdown. What? Were you supposed to slay all these weak pieces of garbage while the rest of the Demon Slayer Corporation went after the ones that could form a coherent thought? All that consumed these losers was hunger. If you must partake, the sooner this is over the better. 

You wonder if there’s anyone else still alive, but before you can become lost in thought again a booming yell cuts through the trees. You tilt your head, knitting your brows together as the sound echoes through your ears. Hmm, what an interesting development. Your feet are bringing you toward the source of the sound before you know it. 

Brushing past some foliage you wait silently in the bush, observing the open area in front of you. There, looming and grotesque is a demon, gurbbling some nonsense about being in pain. Then, a sharp and shiny hoe comes crashing down on the skull – or whatever that thing had in its head because it definitely wasn’t a brain – of the demon. It yelps out in agony, slumping to the ground as ichor oozes from its many wounds. You watch as brisk movements suddenly have a chain wrapped around the mass of the demon. “You don’t need to be scared.” A voice calls from beyond the large body of the demon. “It’s dead.” The voice is lower this time, like the person holding that tone also held some deep regrets. 

Standing from the bush you were crouched in, you brush off the dirt from your trousers. “Scared? Please, I was bored waiting for you to finally finish off the damn thing.” You snap back, circling round the corpse. 

Mussed silver hair and those eyes… they bore into your very soul when they meet your own. He had to be the same age as you, maybe older. He carried himself in such a way that you were drawn to take a step closer. “I don’t know whether to applaud or roll my eyes. You obviously have an attitude problem.” He scoffs, tossing the muddled hoe to the side. “It’s dangerous to just stand around, come with me.” 

A giggle falls from your lips before you can stifle it. “With you? So you can yell another demon to its death? I think I can handle myself.” His eyes track your movement as you pull a sharp dagger from your belt. You flip it in the air, catching it by the handle with ease. 

He rolls his eyes this time. “A few party tricks will wind up with you dead,” He mutters, nodding his head toward the treeline. “Besides, we don’t have much time before the selection is finished.” Ah, he was right about that. It was better to stick with someone who knew their way out of this forest, because if there was one thing you weren’t good at, it was directions. 

 You kick at the dirt, the dust spreading onto a few kikus by a tree stump. “Fine, but you’re sharing your Ohagi.” You demand, trotting up to stand next to him. He peers down at you, some of his hair falling into his lavender eyes. You get a flashback to your little brother and how the same thing would happen to him. It’s a simple action, but you regret it as soon as his eyes dart from your hand back to your eyes. 

He catches your wrist, pulling it from his face. “Don’t touch me.” He growls, but quickly clears his throat, letting go of your arm. “And I am not sharing my Ohagi.” 

2 years later

That’s it, you were going to quit. Sanemi stares deadpanned toward the recently slaughtered demon, his nichirin sword covered in ichor. He then darts his gaze toward your figure, which also happens to be covered in demon ichor. “Nemi…don’t make me take this sword and shove it so far up your-” 

There’s a loud crack from behind you. Another demon looms out from behind a tree, drooling from its maw. A sigh deflates from your mouth, pissed at the interruption. You’d have to deal with Nemi later because now it was your turn to show off. The swordsmiths had trouble with you having less muscle density than the rest of the slayers. But when they saw how talented you were with close range daggers, they took that with stride. 

You pull your long blade dagger from its sheath, grinning at the large demon. “Remember, don’t get distracted-” 

“Kind of need you to shut up in order to do that Emi,” You crack your neck, beckoning the sludge-like demon toward you. “Come on fucker, I have a warm bath to take before this uniform is completely ruined.” You taunt, bouncing from foot to foot, channeling a wind style Sanemi had taught you. Out of the corner of your eye you can see a grin cock up the corner of his lips as you twist into formation. Focus glazes over your eyes as the muscles in your body harden. Your breath is almost non-existent as you set your target on the blobby creature. It wasn’t fit to be called a demon, more akin to something so close to death it was barely alive. 

Your nichirin sword hums with untapped potential, ready to explode forth and cut your target to shreds. You were practically giddy with excitement as your left foot slides forward, completing the set up. Just as the monster lets out a screeching roar you surge forward. The blade of your weapon cuts through its skin, severing an arm off with a high pitched yelp. 

Flipping back, you send a sharp gust of cold wind slicing open its abdomen. It has enough sense to peer down at its open belly, watching what insides it did have become part of the world around it. You suck in the brisk air around you, summoning a trick of your own; ice. A sharp dagger-like icicle appears in front of your chest, hovering in the current you still had summoned. You shut your eyes, picturing the icicle shooting through the girthy neck of your opponent. Then at once, everything is silent – even Sanemi. “Woah, where'd you learn how to do that?” He exclaims, his lavender gaze attached to where your summoned weapon had pinned the dangling – and headless – body of the low-grade demon against a tree. You let go of your focus too quickly, falling to your knees on the forest floor. Sanemi whips his head to observe you. “Hey, you alright? Hey come on, don’t start playing jokes on me-” His voice is cut off, not by anything else except your consciousness slipping away into nothing. 

-

The soft morning light stirs you from your slumber, a crow cawing incessantly outside. Your eyes blink open slowly, a throbbing pinch shooting from your head down your neck. You groan, shifting your sore body under the white blanket. Where were you? Your throat is unexpectedly moist and you feel fine except the stabbing pain in your head. It’s then you can hear the soft breathing of someone else. You peer to your side noting the spikey white hair you knew all too well. His arm is outstretched, his fingertips gingerly gripping your hand. Suddenly – your throat seems to dry up. What? Why is he sleeping there? Your brows knit together as you watch this boy who played up his hard exterior; be unguarded. It was baffling to observe him soundly sleeping over the side of your mattress. His long lashes brush against his squished cheeks and there’s a part in your chest that aches as you watch him. That aching steadily blooms into a warmth that makes your head throb even more. 

Somehow, you’d ended up in the infirmary. Somehow, Sanemi was sleeping by your side. Somehow… the promise you made yourself before entering the Final Selection slips away. There was room – in your heart you mean – for him. It was dangerous how much you yearned to brush your finger against his cheek. “What have you done to me…?” You whispered aloud, leaning your head to Sanemi’s level. “Why do I want to keep you around?”

His eyes twitch, before languidly opening. The first thing they find is your gaze, locking onto the fact you were staring at him. That fuzzy purple color darkens as he wakes up. His lips curve into a smile, but drop into a stern frown once he sits back on his knees. You don’t want to notice, but his hand still clasps yours tightly. “Tch, what the hell were you thinking, faintin’ like that? Your ass was lucky I was there to haul you back to the corps. My back fuckin’ hurts.” He rolls his eyes, but his thumb is gently stroking the back of your hand. He was right. What is wrong with you? He’s frustrated with you but all you can think about is how nice his warm hand feels against yours. 

You clear your throat. “Emi, I’m sorry-” He snaps a fierce look in your direction. 

“Shut yer trap, I’m not done chastising you.” He gripes, huffing out a large breath. “You are the biggest asshole I know. You’re blessed to have such an outstanding friend like me. Anyone else would’ve left you there. Now where’s my reward for savin’ yer ass?” He raises his brows gesturing to himself. 

It’s the medication you tell yourself – that’s why you do it. Your lips brush against his cheek in a delicate peck. With how your heart was hammering in your chest that action was scarier than slaying demons. His reaction – it’s not much to go off considering he freezes mid sentence. “Thank you,” you whisper in a hushed voice, too nervous that loud noises would scare him off. He’s staring, open mouthed, at you. 

A jolt runs through him and he briskly turns his head away from you. “N-next time just say thank you like a normal person…idiot.” He rubs his free hand along the nape of his neck, trying to keep his face out of your line of vision – but you’ve always been observant and your eyes widen as you see the tips of his ear rouge. What you wouldn’t give to see his face right now, but his grip on your hand was enough to tide you over for now. The sun glints off of a vase stuffed with an assortment of kikus. Just like them, something beautiful was budding here.  

1 year later

People were everywhere. It’s not that you had an issue with large groups, but usually when you were surrounded by this many bodies you were killing them. You’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. You feel on edge, but then you catch the smiling face of Sanemi Shinazugawa; newest Hashira. You tilt your head, grinning to yourself as you watch him from afar chatting with the flower Hashira – her little sister attached to her leg –  and the much larger stone Hashira. Master Ubuyashiki grins widely at something Sanemi has said, placing a hand on his back. He fits in so well among the elite slayers. “I’m glad they finally made him a Hashira.” A voice mutters from beside you. Your skin crawls with shock that you hadn’t picked up on someone being this close to you. Turning your head you meet the deep azure gaze of Giyu Tomioka, the water pillar. His presence is a wash of serenity. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t talk much or because you could feel the sorrow emanating from him. Was it some sort of requirement to go through tragedy to become a Hashira? If so, they should’ve recruited you a while ago. You scoff at your own joke, bringing Giyu’s transfixed gaze back to you. “Do you not think he’s fit?” Ah, there’s been a misunderstanding. You know what Giyu is asking, but the part of your brain that had grown since a year ago lets a salacious gaze rack up the uniform of the man across the garden. 

You find yourself clenching your thighs together. “Mmm, that's not it at all.” You hum, nodding toward Sanemi. “He’s going to save us all.” You don’t mean to say the last part out loud, but Giyu gives you a long, pondering look. 

There’s footsteps in front of you and you realize Sanemi has wandered toward you. “Good evening ma’am,” he bows his head and scoops up your hand. “Would you like to take a walk?” He inquires, shooting a glare toward the water Hashira. Giyu brushes off the line of territory Sanemi has seemingly drawn. 

“I’m glad to know we share the same sentiment, Miss Yn,” He takes a step back, bowing his head. “I bid you both goodnight.” He says curtly, then disappears around the master’s house.

Sanemi squeezes your hand, bringing your attention back to him. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He mutters. You let out a chuckle, amused by how wrong he could be when he was so smart. “Don’t laugh.” He huffs. He was so cute like this… if only you could just tell him how much he meant to you. Sanemi guides the both of you toward a wisteria tree, stopping under its leaves. “Y’know, I want to thank these trees,” His gaze wanders the branches. 

You smile, following the many petals of the flowering tree. “Why? Because they help you kill demons?” You tease. He did love his demon killing. A rumbling chuckle rattles through his chest. You swear you can feel the vibration in your intertwined hands. 

His gaze is soft as it falls to your face. “No,” he breathes. It’s like a magnet – being drawn to his lips. When you’re close enough to feel his hot breath against your nose he opens his mouth again. “Because they brought us together.” 

You’d never been to the entertainment district to view fireworks, but if they were anything like the buzzing happening against the back of your head – you still don’t think they’d compare. Sanemi gently slides his hand through your hair, caressing the back of your head. You share a trembling breath with him as your mouths clumsily slot together. A breeze brushes along the hanging flowers causing some of them to flutter to the ground. You watch them in the reflection of his eyes as his other hand rubs against your cheek. 

He presses his forehead against yours, shutting his eyes like a starved man. You both are panting, but you can’t look away from his swollen lips. “S-Sanemi,” you start. His eyes open instantly. “I think I’ve…” You swallow hard, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 

If there was one thing you knew for certain, Sanemi wasn’t a patient man. “You’re really bad at this,” He chuckles. “I know. I like you too, yeah?” 

Yeah, fireworks didn’t have shit on this. 

8 months later

Sanemi grunts as you slip out from underneath the sheets. The warming glow of the sun basks your room in glorious light. “Mmph, come back to bed,” His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place. A grin spreads across your lips. 

“Well, mister Wind Hashira, I need to go train. Now, let go.” You reply, pushing lightly on his muscled arm. He pouts, burrowing his head in your back. 

“Nuh-uh,” he huffs, taking in a deep breath of your scent. “You smell divine, it’s fuckin’ infuriatin’.” He pops up, placing his chin on your shoulder. You roll your eyes with a laugh. Sanemi and you had added a few things to your friendship; like sleeping in the same bed. After a long day of work there was nothing more heavenly than walking through his door. It was home and you’d be damned if anything would happen to it. You both had yet to cross into the zone of no return – sex. You kissed… a lot, but everything halted there. No funny business. There was an understanding that this was something special, but both of you were scared to step over the line. Maybe you weren’t ready. Maybe after you became a Hashira – to become equal enough to walk by his side. “What’s my pretty girl thinking about?” 

Without a second beat you answer honestly. “Training until I drop.”

3 years later… present day.

You bow your head. “Master,” you greet. Ubuyashiki’s illness had worsened over the years to an alarming degree. Of course, you wouldn’t say anything out loud, but it kept you up at night. He taps the wooden deck next to him. 

“Come, sit my child.” He gazes at you until you brush your uniform skirt underneath yourself. The pale light blue of your haori refracts the sun brushing through the petals of wisteria trees. “You take great honor in what you accomplish. I must say, I’m very proud.” He smiles and it’s the kind of warmth that makes you want to melt into his embrace. 

You bow your head, hiding the flush rushing to your cheeks. “Thank you Master.” He places a hand on your shoulder. 

He lifts his gaze to the whispering breeze. “I think it’s time you join our Hashira meetings.” His gaze swoops to look over the once small girl he knew. “You’ve grown Yn and I need people willing to grow on my side.” His grip on your shoulder tightens. “Now go, tell Sanemi.” Your mouth opens wide before snapping shut. You stand, politely dismissing yourself before rushing out the main gate of the estate. Your heart is pounding as you sprint back home. A Hashira…finally. You couldn’t believe it. All this effort, work, waiting, it was worth it. You couldn’t wait to see the look on Sanemi’s face. You’d kiss him a million times.

Your legs ache from yesterday’s training, but you push through the soreness. Hashira’s weren’t perfect, they felt pain – but having the title of Hashira was overcoming that pain to succeed in your goal. Was Ubuyashiki testing to see if you could run back to Sanemi? You’re sweating as you turn into the Wind Manor. “Sanemi!” You call, noting his sandals near the deck. “My love!” The words surprise you, but the excitement swelling in your chest overcomes the anxiety that Sanemi would find issue with it.

You trod further into your home, slipping off your boots as you step onto the deck. Sliding open the screen may have been a mistake, because you scream at the sudden presence of Sanemi on the ground. He’s wearing a stupid grin, the scars on his forehead smiling as well. Kiku and wisteria petals surround him – him on one knee. Staring up at you with a golden band pinched between his fingers. “Yn, you make me feel like those broken parts of me that always scream about how awful I am… can finally be mended. You’ve given me everything without even trying. You’re the only person who’s made me feel like I’m worth something. I want that feeling forever… marry me petal. Make me whole. I know we’re young, but with our profession, who knows how much time we’ll have left. I promise I’ll treat you right.” The past 7 years flood through your brain. The universe had put this man into your life when all you thought about was death. In part it was due to having to slaughter the only family member you had left right before the Final Selection. Your little brother had gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd and as his caregiver – you took care of him until the very end. 

Here was Sanemi, perfect with all his obvious issues. He’d been through so much; you’d been through so much together. He stood by you, yet you felt trepidations about accepting his proposal. He was strong, strong enough to protect you – but could you do the same? He’d been a Hashira much longer than you, seen what kind of dangers are out there. You reach up to trace the scar above his eyebrow. All those years ago he would’ve smacked your hand away, but he leans into your touch now. You were with him for most of the conception of these scars, so why were you jealous of such a permanent part of his body? 

“Yes.” You mutter, the word catching on your tongue. “I love you Sanemi Shinazugawa.” Your eyes meet and before you can choke on regret he kisses all the worries away. Your heart soars in your chest, but there’s a sinking feeling that something awful was going to tear the one good thing in your life away because you finally accepted you wanted to be happy. 

He grabs you and kisses you all over your face. “Let’s tell Ubuyashiki in the morning. With his blessin’ we’ll practically be married. You and me. Husband and wife.” A huge grin takes over both of your faces. What a beautiful melody those words were. 

If the world was about to burn though, you’d give into every carnal desire before it has a chance to fuck everything up. This meant taking the man currently trying to hide his erection to the bedroom you’ve kept innocent; until tonight. You were going to go out fucking or fighting. 

His hard face – the one he shows to everyone else, except you – melts away and is replaced by a genuine smile. “I love you too petal.” The world could wait, right now was just for the two of you. You feed into his kisses, pushing against him with filthy intentions. “Fuck, s’good,” He whispers against your swollen lips. You hadn’t realized, but your hands had worked his hair into a complete mess. “You’re driving me crazy, wife.” The word swipes you off your feet, causing you to falter in your attempts to unbuckle his belt. You blink up at him, furrowing your brows. His head tilts to the left, grinning the way he always does around you. “Got something you want to say gorgeous?” You huff out a frustrated sigh as you take a step back from him. 

“Sanemi.” You start. He quirks a brow, delightedly watching you. No time like the present to be honest with yourself. “I want to fuck you.” You finish off, observing his face drop from all snark to surprise. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but then he shuts it immediately. “Do you like the sound of that, husband?” Two could play this game. His eyes darken as he takes in your figure. 

A hum rumbles through his throat as he takes a confident step toward you. “You want to fuck me or you want me to fuck you?” He cocks a smirk onto his lips, crossing those ungodly arms across his dipping neckline. You swallow, bashfully meeting his gaze. It was annoying how much of an effect he had on you. Normally you’d be fine flirting with him, but the tingling sensation running down your thighs was starting to make you nervous. 

“B-both,” You sputter out, standing your ground as the tips of his feet brush against yours. He bends down next to your ear, letting you revel in the sight of his chest. Your eyes trace the jagged lines of his criss-cross scar. Mmm, X marks the spot.  

His hot breath fans across your neck, sending shots of magma through your body. “Mmm, you sure you can handle all of me? ‘Cause I’m not holding back on you even if you are my wife.” The way he tests the latter word on his tongue makes you squirm in place. “I can barely stop myself from ripping into your uniform as it is.”

Sanemi backs you against the far wall of your home. “Don’t think you can command me around like all those kakushi.” You pout. He caresses your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” This kiss is different from the rest, it’s hungry – starving even. His rough palms are somehow more demanding than they’ve ever been. Your fingers trace the neckline of his uniform, rubbing your thumb across his pectoral scar. His muscles tense under your touch, his lips breaking from yours to pant out a shuddering groan. A fluttering buzz makes it hard to breathe. His head is bent to stare at your fingers, hair hanging in his face. You wanted to ruin him and be ruined by him. Your body is at war with itself. How perfect Sanemi is, you wanted to be the only one to see him come undone. 

Your fingers find his belt and his hands firmly plant themselves on either side of your head. It startles you when he lays his forehead against your shoulder, breathy grunts fall from his mouth – it only drives you forward in your actions. His belt slides somewhat easily free from the loops on his breaches. You unloop the button, slipping your hand underneath the clothing. A strangled hiss slides out his throat. “Shit, you’re goin’ to be the death of me.” 

Sanemi groans as you free his stiff cock from his pants. Your breath catches in your throat as you observe the length and girth of him. The color bleeds into an angry red and you swear he muffles a whimper against your skin. “That’s it baby, look at what you’ve done to me.” You glance at the back of his head then back to the beautiful apex of his thighs. You’d only seen drawings of phalluses or heard the other women chat about them. Never did you think you’d be at a loss for words when staring at one. “Ha, you goin’ to say somethin’ or just stare at me? S’startin’ to make me nervous.” He lifts his head to finally meet your gaze with lust filled eyes. A large gulp works its way through your throat, all the while Sanemi watches with rapt attention. 

“Maybe I like watching you squirm.” His brows raise as he mulls over your words. He wraps his warm hand around your wrist, leading it to his groin. He stares into your eyes the whole time, studying your reaction. It’s suddenly gotten a lot harder to breathe as your fingertips brush against the burning skin of his cock. 

“Oh? You like that huh? Maybe I should give you a better look at it.” He guides your hand down his shaft, groaning when he forms your hand around his base. Sanemi shifts his hips, sliding his cock through your rounded fist. “Damn it… just keep going – just like that.” His brows draw together and your thighs clench together. Seeing Sanemi horny and losing himself to the feeling of your hand was going to be seared into your brain. It was so wet between your legs…so wet and empty.

Your heart is seemingly trying to crawl out of your throat, but you feel so high from pleasuring him. Confidence was starting to take over the initial nerves. “So tough all the time… but you’re completely at my mercy,” You pant out, feeling the heat rise to the tip of your scalp. It was surprising you didn’t spontaneously combust with the sight in front of you. 

“Mmmhm, as wonderful as that sounds,” He shuts his eyes, trying to regain his focus. “I’m goin’ shut that pretty mouth of yours up,” Before you can wonder what he means, he shows you by pushing you to your knees. “Open,” He commands, backing up to behold your flushed cheeks and obliging mouth. You were paradise on earth. His cock is aching without your touch so he covers his length with a free hand, pumping himself like a horny teenager before you. You reduced him to pure desires and he couldn’t decide if that would be for your betterment… or your demise. “Suck it.” 

He brushes his weeping tip across your lips, creating a work of art in the process. He could stare at this all day long. Then – with one languid movement – he’s inside your warm wet mouth. He tosses his head back, his muscles flexing with enough tension they could snap. A sense of pride shoots through you, but something inside your own brain short circuits when he moans out your name. Suddenly you’re gripping his hips like a mad woman, digging your nails into his skin as you bob your head down his length – stopping at his base to hold all of him in your mouth. His legs are twitching and the stifled moans above you just drive you to swirl your tongue around the underside of his cock, where a long vein trails up to the tip. You follow it with the tip of your tongue until you meet his slit. From all the information you’ve gathered, this – this – was the most sensitive part of a man. 

You’re not sure what compels you to dip your tongue into the leaking hole, dancing your tongue across it while working your hands across the parts not covered by your mouth. The saliva you’d left behind and whatever was coming out of his tip made the movements easy. There were noises filling the room – one’s you’d be hearing echo off these walls for eternity. The wet squelching mixes with Sanemi’s whimpering moans in your favorite melody. 

Sanemi’s hand twitches to the back of your head, wrapping your hair around his flushed hands. “E-enough,” He hisses, pulling you away by your hair. You glare up at him. It’s hard to not shove you back on his cock when you look like that.

Your lips are bruised, the corners red and splotchy. Drool drips from your mouth and there’s a look in your eyes that makes Sanemi hoist you to your feet. He wasn’t going to cum unless it was inside that sweet cunt of yours. He was going to press you into the mattress until you were with his child. Suddenly his mind is blank, the only thought on rotation being ‘fill her to the brim.’

He guides you into the bedroom where the mattresses are already rolled out. Had he been thinking about this as he set up the proposal? Was the night meant to lead to this very moment? Sanemi envelopes you in his arms, kissing the tip of your nose. “Don’t you think s’unfair I’m the only one undressing?” His voice is so calm and low it goes straight from your ears to your core.

You drop your hands to the buttons on your uniform. “If you’re that eager then maybe you should help me out.” His gaze follows your hands, zeroing in on the sliver of your neck revealed. You peel back the layer of your haori, the blue fabric tumbling to the ground in a heap. Next is the top part of your uniform, slipping off the white undershirt as well. Your chest is almost bare in front of him, negating the cloth that winds around your chest. The rounds of your breasts only emphasize the heavy breaths falling from your mouth. Sanemi groans, biting into his lip. “What’s that? You were all talk just a moment ago.” You undo the clip.

Sanemi sucks in a breath, his gaze growing darker. “Describin’ your beauty takes time,” He whips his eyes up to meet yours. He cocks a grin, slowly dropping to your pebbled nipples. “As you know, m’not a man of pretty words,” He cups one of his massive hands under the heft of your chest. In an instant his lips plant a delectable kiss against the throbbing nub. The sensation rushes through your system, eliciting a pitiful moan to escape past your lips. His gaze flicks to you, watching with fire behind his expression. His lips curl into a smile against your breast. “Haa… shit, you’re really something else, huh?” A flush rushes from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. Sanemi trails wicked kisses to your jaw, stopping to visit your mouth. The corners of your mouth sting from pushing all of him in – but the pain only brings about more pleasure. Your eyes flutter shut as he grazes his teeth on your bottom lip. The grip on his shoulders tighten as you tremble with arousal. 

One muscular arm dips between your thighs, cupping your mound. He scoffs, quirking that damn brow of his. “Were you plannin’ on sharin’ how wet you are f’me, sweetheart?” He growls, bringing his hand to your lips – smearing your arousal across them. His brows narrow as you squeeze your thighs together, squirming desperately in front of him. “Ha, you need somethin’?”

You break, annoyed at the unbearable desire roaring through you. “Damn it Sanemi, stop teasing me – do something.” You huff, placing yourself in between the sleeping mats. You raise your legs and spread them wide for him. He throws his head back in a dark chuckle. 

Kneeling down beside you he runs his warm hands up your thighs. “Guessin’ all those lessons in patience from Gyomei didn’t exactly… pay off?” He snarks, brushing the bottom of your skirt out of the way. You roll your eyes, fed up with his attitude. 

“Everyone has their breaking point, Sanemi.” You grunt, turning your face away from him. He takes this as an opportunity to run his thumb along your slit. Your body straightens, a breathy moan blasting out of you. He was playing dirty.

You whisk your burning gaze back to him, still wearing the frustrated expression. “Mmm, don’t worry pretty girl, I’m about to show you yours.” He dips his head between your thighs, lapping at the plush skin where your stockings dug in. You can feel his smile. “You know, Iguro was right.” He hums, kissing circles on your inner thigh while his thumb massages the other. You couldn’t focus on what he was musing about – too focused on the excitement of having this man, whole. “Givin’ stockings to a girl was great advice.” He captures the fabric between his teeth, leisurely taking it off your leg. “Now m’constantly between your legs.” 

Why did he say these things? Now whenever you pull your stockings on he’s all you’re going to be thinking about. Not that he wasn’t already constantly on your mind. “You’re so unfair,” You pout, wishing there was something you could tease him about – but as you gaze over your bare chest the next breath catches in your throat. 

Sanemi has your leg outstretched against his chest, tossing your stockings to the side. They flutter through the air like they were glad he touched them. Lucky bitches. He eyes you as he kisses your ankle, raking his teeth against the tendons. He swoops his hand under your calf, heaving your left leg over his shoulder. “The more I hear you complain the more I want to fuck you until that pretty voice can’t talk anymore.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, sweeping his tongue against your folds. 

A startled whimper careens from within you. His tongue laps up your sex, finding its way to your entrance. You were panting now, gripping the sheets like your life depending on it. If you let go you might float up to the gods. “F-fuck,” you moan, squirming under his minstrations. This only drives his actions to a higher level as he moves his fingers to enter your weeping cunt. “Ahh, oh–” Your body is tensing around his finger and before you get used to one of his digits working in and out of you he adds another. You squeeze your thighs around his head as he flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit. “Yes, Sanemi, right there,” you call out, your voice pitched higher than usual. The tandem of his tongue and fingers had your thighs trembling with the growing high of your impending orgasm. 

His head squirms free from the apex of your thighs. “S’my girl, I want your cum on my tongue,” He commands breathily. Without instruction you spread your legs for him, his pace heightening your senses as he carries you over the edge. Throaty moans and whimpers shake past your lips as you clench down. 

Sanemi slips his fingers out of you, panting as he finds your eyes. He reaches his hand to your mouth, sliding the tips of his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. “S’pretty when you cum,” He hums watching you take his fingers inside your mouth. “Makes me wanna devour you,” He tilts his head following your gaze – straight to his neglected cock. “Heh, I have three guesses as to what you want from me and the first two don’t count.” He takes his fingers back, popping them into his own mouth. “A good night’s rest?” He inquires. You shake your head. “Maybe a cute little dog?” You shake your head again. He smirks. “Ahh, that’s right. You have to be overworked to fall asleep. My girl has to be brought to the brink of death before she’s satisfied. Isn’t that right?” He coos, positioning himself closer to your core. You nod eagerly, words apparently forgotten. 

He curls his hands around your calves, yanking you closer to him and wrapping your legs around his hips. “Then who am I to deny my darling?” You wait with bated breath as he lines the head of his cock against your entrance. A sharp breath fills your lungs as he pushes gently into your wet walls, clenching around him. “S’tight.” He mutters as his hips shift forward. He holds your hips still as he burrows deeper. There’s a pinching sensation as your cunt welcomes him. “Sorry, s’sorry, doin’ s’good.” He whispers, but your pain gradually flares into an overwhelming pleasure. 

His slow methodical movements turn ravenous as he shoves his length into your greedy pussy. “S’takin’ all of me, such a good girl,” He pants, thrusting with desperation – chasing his own orgasm but focusing on the spot that makes you scream his name. “S’it,” He’s driving deeper and deeper, the slapping noise of skin against skin filling the room. He’s whining about how heavenly you are, promising to stay inside of you forever. 

You throw your head back against the pillow. “Cum for me, s’my girl, just like that.” He praises, studying the way your body shakes with burning pleasure. His encouragement floods you, your second orgasm of the night rushing through you with tingling stars. Your cunt cinches around him, eliciting a whiny moan from his lips. 

He pounds into you relentlessly, spewing apologetic moans your way. Soon enough his hot cum fills your pussy in a beautiful mess. You feel so full, it’s the kind of pressure you enjoy. He’s taken aback by how much he likes seeing your pussy stuffed with his cum. He fucks it into you, begging you to mother his children. The oozing climax slips past the seal of Sanemi’s cock, trickling down your thighs. The sensation tickles and if you had any part of your mind right now you’d be worried about the sheets. Tears roll down your face, half from happiness, half from being dicked down. He immediately catches your tears, eyes widening. “Are you okay?” He exclaims, bending to check on you. You nod your head, smiling. He blows out a breath. “Gosh, you had me worried…” He trails off, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “You should only cry when you’re with me ‘kay? So I can be there to wipe your tears.” There’s a moment where you both stare at each other, dumb smiles on your faces. He kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. “I love you, petal. I’m never going to leave you.” He promises. 

After washing up together you lay in his arms. The night was filled with the promise of eternal love. One that wouldn’t die so easily. Once you fall asleep, the golden band on your ring finger, Sanemi slips out of your home. Before he’s completely out of the door he halts near a table – quickly scrawling the happy news of your engagement to the only other person he cherished; his little brother. He hands the note to Sorai, that way Genya was bound to hear the news the quickest. He’s the happiest he’s ever been. He wants to shout from the rooftops, but he’s on a mission to find fresh flowers for his beloved wife – well soon to be wife. He rounds his mansion, one that wouldn’t be complete without you inside of it, heading for the dirt road that leads to a small patch of kikus. He gathers a couple of the delicate flowers within his hands, stopping under the moonlight to appreciate their beauty. He pulls a line of twine from his pocket, wrapping them together. 

But he never makes it back.

With a sore throat you groan as the morning sun bleeds into your room. It appears you’d slept through most of the morning. You reach out to pat the area next to you, expecting to find the sturdy frame of the man who commanded you not to wash out his cum. A bashful grin finds its way onto your face as you remember the previous hours. Your hand doesn’t bump into anything except fabric. Where had he gone? You planned to go see Master first thing in the morning together. You sit up, clutching the sheet to your body – suddenly too cold. “S-Sanemi?” You call out, your voice hoarse.

There’s no reply, in fact the house has never been this hauntingly quiet before. An ache coils around your heart. Where was your love? You take a moment to calm your breathing, trying to think of possibilities other than he’d left you. He’d left you and was never coming back. Last night was just so he could get his fill and when he walked through the doors of his house, he wouldn’t want you to still be there. A sick warmth spreads thorns inside your stomach. 

It takes you a few minutes to get ready, hissing as your back aches with strained muscles. Your pussy throbs around nothing, begging to be stuffed again and again. You’d have to have a word with her about that later, especially if your betrothed was thinking about breaking off the engagement. He wouldn’t do that…right? 

Outside the morning is a flurry of crows and a light breeze. You squint into the sunlight, concern breaking through your faux calmness. Why were there so many crows circling the mansion? “Yn,” You jump at the sound of your name, bringing your gaze downward to the snake Hashira. Your face scrunches into sorrow as your lips quiver. His eyes are all you need to see before you rush into his arms, breaking down. Obanai allows you to cling onto him, brushing a hand down your back in what comfort he could muster. His mind was otherwise occupied. He couldn’t bear listening to your sobs for much longer. Damn it Sanemi, where the hell were you? That’s when the snake Hashira catches the glimmer of a golden band around your finger. His eyes darken. 

“Wh-what am I supposed to do?” You whimper, nestled into the crook of Obanai’s neck. He releases a sigh, moving his hands to your shoulders. He moves you so that you’re looking into his eyes. He tries to hide the worry, but you’d grown up being able to read the emotions of eyes. Even in your state, it was clear – something was wrong. 

He shuts his eyes, hissing out a breath. When he opens his eyes he’s not looking at you. “We’re not sure. Sanemi made a big fuss yesterday about introducing his wife to everyone so we were all supposed to meet at Master’s estate. We waited all morning…” He trails off, turning his gaze to the sky where the afternoon sun was being covered by clouds. “He’s missing.”

Those words echoed in your head for the next two weeks. You sat in the wind manor, blank. It was like someone had pushed the reset button on you. Mitsuri tried to get you to eat, visiting you every meal time with a delicious smelling plate of food. Your stomach was tied in knots so you were unable to eat much of it. Shinobu had visited you too, checking your vitals and making sure you at least sat outside for an hour. Everyone was trying to help, some with the search party, others with looking after you. 

It was pitiful, the way you had to be taken care of every day because you couldn’t even muster moving your eyes. If you did, anything you’d see would remind you of the aching loss blooming in your body. There were times you sat and cried, staring at a wall. 

Love had splintered into pieces of the past. You were too numb to feel anything. 

A month passes and the one feeling that surfaces is resentment – to yourself. What a waste of space. You were a Hashira, apparently inept at doing her job. You let your grief take over your body instead of assisting the rest of the corps who were working tirelessly to find…Sanemi. His name. It had repeated over and over in your head. It dances through your gray matter, sinking into your brain. Pumped through your veins until he consumed all of you.

The dark early morning sky casts a glowing hue through your window. In a way the darkness was comforting because all the sun did was illuminate that you were alone. 

Get up. Find him. You stumble into a standing position, bracing yourself on the wall next to you. A rushing nausea fills your stomach. Your eyes widen as you rush outside, vomiting into the gravel. You fall to your hands and knees on the deck as the clamminess sticks to your body. A shudder courses through you as the little food you’d eaten leaves your body. Then it’s just dry heaving, tears streaming down your face as the acid stings your throat. 

You hold your stomach, hoping the pain is finally over. The tears pushed out of your body from vomiting continue, but now from the pain of loss. Sanemi would’ve taken care of you. He’d know what to do in moments like these. You bring your head to the sky, sobbing through the night. 

Your throat aches as you wake up with a start, nausea swimming around again. You curse as you scramble outside to the very same spot you’d visited earlier this morning. Once the ordeal is over, you sit there perplexed. You collect yourself, stepping into the gravel. Your body is shivering as you start walking towards Butterfly mansion. 

Shinobu perks up when you walk through her door. “Yn?” She tilts her head, scanning your body with concern. “What’s wrong?” As if she wasn’t going to inspect you until she found out. You push a weak grin onto your lips. 

A limp arm points to your stomach. “Vomit. I keep throwing up.” Her eyes widen, something crossing through them. You were so tired and there was an awful cramp twisting your guts into a mess. 

“Okay, come lay down here.” She motions for you to lay down on a cot next to her. “I’m going to ask you some questions,” She starts, peeking at you for confirmation. You nod your head, collapsing back onto the bed. She gulps, pulling up a stool next to you. “Do you usually get sick in the morning?” You nod. This elicits a shaky breath to leave her mouth. “Are you eating well? What about sleep?” You shake your head, a fucked up grin lining your lips. 

“What’s the point in any of that?” You laugh, turning your head away from her. You couldn’t stand having her look at you with such pity. She reaches out her hand, grasping your arm gently. 

“Yn, when’s the last time you had your monthly bleed?” She asks with such a soft voice you turn back to her, brows drawn together. What did that have to do with anything? Though, now that you’re thinking about it…

“I haven’t had one since earlier last month.” You whisper. Shinobu’s face falls, a curse under her breath. She sucks in that same breath before standing from her stool. “What is it?” Your mind felt fuzzy, almost clouded. 

She clasps her hands together, facing the empty room. “Yn… I think you’re pregnant…” She whips her gaze back to you. “With Sanemi’s baby.”

The color drains from your face and your pulse quickens. No. No it couldn’t be. From one time? Was that even possible? A violent shake jolts through you as you start to wail. “How could you!? How could you leave me here!?” You cover your face with the back of your arm as you continue to cry, although it was closer to the yowl of a cat. 

A baby. His baby. Your baby. 

What a joyous occasion. 

3 months later

You glance around the home you’d shared with the love of your life. Now, there was no life in this mansion. The walls had watched you cry yourself to sleep every night, it was probably time you gave them a break. “Don’t worry Miss Yn, I’ll make sure to clean it up just in case.” Tanjiro, a spitfire swordsman exclaims. You muster a sorrowful smile as you pat his head. You hope he never experiences loss like you have. 

Though you’re pretty sure someone told you his whole family had been murdered except his kid sister, who was now a demon. Okay, maybe he had it worse than you did, but the smile on his lips was a testament to how strong willed he was. A pang of pride shoots through you. “Thank you, Tanjiro.” You walk outside, turning to glance at the structure one last time, holding your growing stomach. “Say goodbye little one.” You whisper. Goodbye my love. It’s almost like you can see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, waving goodbye to you. 

Ubuyashiki instructed Giyu and Obanai to accompany you to a small village east of the corps. There was a small house waiting for you to quietly have your babies and raise them away from the dangerous headquarters. The journey was long, about a week away. 

When your small group finally stepped into the village there was a welcome party. Swordsmith village; a place only Hashira knew the way to. Usually Kakushi would have to exchange visitors on their backs to keep the location secretive. 

They welcome you with open arms, showing you to the small house where you’d be staying. “Go ahead, I’m sure you’ll want to rest.” Giyu motions for you to go inside, a slight smile on his lips. You’re worried, why would he be smiling? With a tentative hand you push open the door. There’s a figure in the middle of the room, long spiky hair falling down their shoulders. You yelp at the sight, falling back into Obanai’s chest. 

“Don’t just stand there Shinazugawa, greet your sister.” He chastises gruffly from behind you. The last name sends chills down your back as it finally clicks. 

Genya Shinazugawa turns on his heel, an all too familiar face greeting you. The breath in your lungs whoosh out. “Hey there Yn.” He bows his head, jolting when he sees the tears welling in your eyes. It’s involuntary when you rush into his arms. He tentatively holds you before tightening his grip. “S’gonna be okay. They’ll find ‘em.” He whispers against your shoulder. “S’gonna be okay.” He repeats himself, almost like he was trying to comfort himself as well. You hold each other for what feels like hours, crying with each other and spending the night talking about Sanemi. For the first time since 4 months ago you feel a lightness in your chest. 

Giyu and Obanai are staying in the inn not to far from your house, patrolling the perimeter of the village before turning in for the night. There’s a room on either side of the house, before coming together in a platform kitchen area and dirt entry way. Genya was going to stay with you for the duration of your pregnancy. Giyu and Obanai would always be close by as well. It was kind of like a little family. Giyu cooks, Obanai patrols, and Genya takes care of you. The thought makes you giggle to yourself, the sound of your laughter shocking you into silence. You spread your hand over the right side of the bed you lay in. 

“You look gorgeous in the moonlight, did I ever tell you that?” You turn your head, met with the grinning face of your lover. The weight of the whole world lifts from your shoulders as you peer into his lilac eyes. 

You shake your head. “No, I think you should tell me again.” You whisper, butting your head against his. He kisses your nose, rubbing the side of your head. 

“You’re my entire world. My gorgeous, beautiful, seductive world.”

Mornings come too soon, waking you from the enchanting dreams of having Sanemi next to you. It’s been your mission to walk through the town every morning to distract you from hopeless thoughts. “Miss Yn! Miss Yn! When’s the baby coming again!?” A little girl named Momo hops around you excitedly. Her parents were farmers and she had 5 older siblings. Her hyottoko mask slips down and before it can fall she grasps the rosy cheeks with her little hands. You laugh lightly. 

“Your mother will be upset if you continue bouncing around like a rabbit.” You ruffle her hair with the ease of attachment. It was true, this little girl had made her way into your aching chest, easing some of the pain. Genya trots up next to you, holding out a shiny rock. You cock your head curiously. 

He rounds in front of you, halting the movement of both you and Momo. He places the shiny rock in Momo’s hands. “Here, for you m’lady.” He squats down to show her the crystalized pattern on the back of the stone. Momo gasps when she realizes how pretty the rock is. 

She bounces up and down again, whooping about how Genya was the best big brother ever. He laughs but you can see the pain behind his eyes. Momo runs in circles around your legs, gripping her rock like it was the most precious thing in the world. “I think you just made a best friend.” You tease and Genya’s face spreads into a knowing grin. 

His gaze flows down to your rounded tummy. “Just practicin’. I want to make him proud.” His words are like the air sucked from your lungs. 

You peek at your stomach, running a hand over the bump. “You already have,” you mutter, trying to think happy thoughts as the memory of this morning’s dream tries to take over. “Momo, how about you take big brother Genya to the hot springs?” You suggest to the wide-eyed girl. 

Genya doesn’t have time to react before she yanks him toward the stone stairs. You smile watching them leave. It was taking time, but you were starting to heal. 

The walk to the gate doesn’t take a lot of time, but chatting with curious villagers makes it late afternoon by the time you continue your walk along the forest line. The kakumaki around your shoulders shifts as you brace against a chilling winter breeze. The air was crisp, but it reminded you of the winters spent under Sanemi’s arm, snuggled together by the fireplace. 

Today was his birthday and no matter how much love you were surrounded with, you just wanted to be alone. To think about him and wish him a happy birthday.

Snow lines the pathway, pushed against the short stone wall that extended for miles on either side. A sparrow flies above your head as you continue, humming a traditional song. You adored your neighbors, but the village became stuffy with all the fluttering around you. You’re sure some of the villager girls were happy there were two male Hashira staying close by. Maybe if Giyu got laid he’d learn how to smile – or not look like a psychopath while doing so. 

A grin lines your lips thinking about the friends whom you cherished so much. The air in front of you puffs out, warmth meeting the cold. Honestly, winter was your favorite season. You might be slightly partial due to your breathing style, but there was just something about peering over a field powdered in a white blanket. Trees were gray and bare, but with snow they became royalty swaying across a ballroom. There was one word for it – majestic. “Happy Birthday Emi.”

You’re about to brush some snow off the wall and perch against it when you hear a twig snap. A line snaps your head in the direction of the sound. It could very well be an animal, but they learned to avoid making noise in the winter in case a predator was around. Against every fiber of your being you call out, “Hello?” 

After a few beats of silence your heart starts to calm down. Okay, so maybe you were going crazy. Wouldn’t be news to you. “Petal,” The chill that runs down your spine paralyzes you. The boots you wore were stuck to the dirt. It was such an unhuman noise. Like a growl mixed with choking. There’s nothing but the vast white staring back at you. That doesn’t stop you from rushing back toward the village, clutching the furs over your shoulders. That night Sanemi doesn’t appear in your dreams. 

When you wake up, fresh snow has fallen over the village. Obania storms into your home, meeting your gaze with panicked eyes. “Thank the Gods,” He hisses, Giyu clamoring in behind him. Curiosity pierces your skin. 

“What’s going on?” You interrogate. Giyu glances at the snake Hashira, his gaze avoiding you naturally. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, staring intently out your window. “There’s been an attack. One of the villagers was killed last night.” His deep azure stare slides to meet yours. “By a demon.”

4 months later

Since then, multiple attacks have showered the swordsmith village with blood. “Miss Yn, is the baby going to be okay?” Momo lays on the ground of your kitchen, kicking her feet behind her. You smile as you set a plate full of ohagi in front of her. “Gee thanks!” She squeals. “Ma never lets me have these!” Great, her mom was probably going to give you a stern talking to.

You ease yourself down on the edge of the platform next to Momo. “From how strong they are, I think they could beat up even Mister Obanai.” You chuckle, observing Momo’s eyes widen with wonder, her hyottoko mask forgotten on the ground. She jumps up excitedly and punches the air. 

“Yeah! The baby can fight off the demon that killed my dad!” You wince as she brings up the first killing of the demon that had been eluding two Hashira. Three if you count yourself – which you didn’t. You pat Momo’s back, settling her down. 

She leans into you, affectionately kissing your temple. “Would you like to feel the baby kick?” You offer, chuckling as Momo nearly pounces on your large baby bump. “Careful now,” You laugh. Momo’s tiny hands press against your stomach, yelping when it jolts from the baby’s movement. 

“Feels like you have an army in there…” She mutters, furrowing her brows. “You sure there’s only one baby?” You raise your brows with a comical laugh. The village healer, Momo’s grandmother, must’ve been telling her about pregnancies. 

You place your hand over hers. “I’m pretty sure,” At least you hope so. You barely knew what to do with one baby, let alone more. “Why don’t you get tucked in, I’m sure your mother will be home soon.” After the tragic death of her husband Momo’s mother had moved in with you after growing close due to Momo’s obsession with your baby and helping with her mother’s check ups. Having the house full of noise was a better distraction than seeing Genya’s face in the morning and feeling a thrill of excitement only to wake up more and feel the drop of sorrow again. It wasn’t fair to Genya and it was starting to give you a complex. 

Genya was in the other room so it would be fine if you slipped out for a while right? The early spring night air greets you like it's been waiting. A loud crash breaks the peaceful night air. You’re immediately on guard, but it drops when Momo appears in front of you holding your nichirin daggers. “I’m gonna be a Hashira like you some day!” She yells before bolting into the forest. A part of you is honored, but then reality comes crashing down your body. 

“Wait! Momo!” You screech, reaching out for her small body. She shouldn’t be out here! You try to move as fast as you can toward where she ran, but progress is slow. Your ankles are swollen and the pressure on your stomach and back make you want to roll over and die. “Momo!” You call, panic settling into your bones. “Momo come back!” 

You hear rustling and your heart sores thinking she’s found her way back to you, but a rabbit bounces forth from the foliage. 

A throat wrenching scream startles birds from their slumber. Your skin prickles as it continues. Then – as if sent by hell itself – Momo’s voice calls out your name before the noise goes silent. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly. No, no, no, no, no. You continue to repeat that word to yourself as you brush past branches, thorns lashing out to your skin. You’re bleeding, but you don’t care. Nothing is as important as getting to Momo.

Blood. The forest ground is covered in it. Hunched over a small figure is what you can only assume is a demon. Your training tells you as much, but the fact it’s still crunching on Momo’s leg is telling enough. 

Your gut twists as you take in the scene before you. Momo had valiantly stabbed the monster with one of your daggers in the thigh. Her little hand was reaching out toward you, her glazed eyes staring into yours. Too late. You feel sick. Your body is woozy, you feel like liquid as you stumble forward. Kill it. Bile rises to your throat, you have to swallow the burning sensation down. Fucking kill it. Wet slurping noises make your nose scrunch up with disgust. You were going to throw up. Your hand is shaking as you reach for the other dagger, somehow near your feet. You’re a Hashira. Your muscles tense, yelling at your body to prolong the sobs you could feel building behind your facade. 

The wind blows the smell of blood and demon toward you. Stalling your movements. Oh no, you were going to vomit. Moonlight casts a glowing light toward Momo’s corpse. Fuck, you were going to avenge her. You’re panting, body unmoving. That is until you catch the black kanji on the back of the demon. Satsu – to kill. Your body is swaying with how hard you’re breathing. “S-Sanemi?” You weep out, collapsing to your knees. Twigs and sharp pebbles dig into your skin, but the radiating shakes and adrenaline keeps you from feeling it. 

Sure enough, the demon turns its body. Four horns sprout from his silver hair. The two front ones were taller than the two back ones. The tips were a deep maroon, bleeding into a soft purple. The same effect was present in the tips of his hair. His eyes reflect the moonlight – the glowing red color causing you to clamp a hand over your mouth. His uniform was across his body, revealing the chest you’d fallen asleep on. Green swirling marks snake around his chest and biceps. The bottom of his uniform was tucked into a pair of breeches, hanging low on his hips. Gone were his scars, gone was his life, gone was the man you loved. 

8 months ago

“Petal.” He sneers and the noise fills you with dread. He’d been with you this whole time. 

Somewhere out there was my wife and no matter what – I was going to make it back to her. The last thing I remember is sensing something near me while I was gathering flowers for her to smile at in the morning. There was a fight, I tried my best; not for me, but for her. My life was nothing until she molded me into something great. Here I was, failing her yet again. 

I thrash around, feeling rope strangling my wrists. Somehow I’d been tied to a damn chair. Trained Hashira and my end was going to come from a chair. I click my tongue, what are a few more scars? I tense my muscles and attempt to break free from restraints. 

An overwhelming presence washes over me as my failure resides in my heart. “Ah, you’re awake.” That voice. My jaw clicks with fury. If I just had my sword he’d be dead on the ground. I needed to find a way to escape. 

“Show your face, coward.” I hiss out, squinting my eyes as the apparent bag over my head is ripped off. Before me is none other than the Demon king, Muzan Kibutsuji. His crimson eyes light up with delight as I face him with blood lust. 

His raven hair is loose around his face, falling forward as he leans toward me. “Watch your tongue Shinazugawa or I might have to cut it out.” He chastises and I surge forward in the chair. I instantly regret thinking I had any chance of escaping because the wooden let down starts to fall forward – with me in it. Muzan catches the back of the chair, his scent filling my nostrils. “Careful, we wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” He sneers, settling the chair back on all four legs roughly. My blood boils with a blinding white rage. 

Hurt? Wasn’t that why he captured me? To kill me? He must notice my questioning face because he straightens his waistcoat, a lecherous grin lifting his lips to expose how much of a monster he really was. “The other Hashira are going to kill you.” I spit out, the rage she had quelled in me fuming up to the top of my head. 

Muzan laughs, raising his brows in amusement. “I’m sure they will.” He watches me out of the corner of his eye as he sinks his teeth into his own wrist. What the actual fuck? I turn away in disgust, bile rising to the back of my throat. Memories, they were flooding back to my mind. Surfacing the murky water I tried to submerge them in all those years ago, for her. His fingers grip my chin, yanking me to look at him. He’s towering over me and every cell inside of me wants to reach out and kill him. He dangles his wounded wrist above my mouth, forcing me to lift my head upward. My muscles are twitching as I twist my head away. A growling hiss echoes around the room as Muzan viciously positions me forward again. I want to cry. I want to whimper. I can’t. Not if I ever want to see her again. 

“Fuck. You.” I sneer through squished cheeks. The demon in front of me slams his wrist down, lining it up with my half parted lips. 

“You will drink orrr,” His eyes are crazy, yearning for violence. “I’ll have to go kill that pretty wife of yours.” 

His blood seeps down my throat, a tickling sensation because I refuse to swallow it. It’s tangy, metallic, and awful. How dare it mix with the taste of her. “Smart choice.” The first drop reaches my gut and the urge to throw up almost overtakes me. “When I return, I hope you’ll be…” He shoves my chin away, causing my body to fall over on the ground. I hit the stone floor with a loud clack and the wind whooshes out of my mouth. My skin feels like it’s crawling with parasites. “Hungry.” He laughs before leaving me in the cold room. 

 A few months later

They’ve tied me down, mocked me, tortured me – and yet I still carry on. It’s her voice that keeps me sane as they force rotten flesh down my throat. I’m turning into something dangerous – vile. A demon. An experiment. A mixed breed between a demon and a slowly dwindling human consciousness. 

My love, my warmth, my beautiful petal. I’m fading. I wish I could kiss you one more time. A sick smile works its way onto my lips. Propose to you a million times over, wrapping your wedding vows around my neck. I wouldn’t last much longer – I was too weak in the end. 

Muzan visited me often, injecting me with concoctions he’d made in the lab. I’d been tamed by the damn upper moons. I wasn’t a demon, but I sure as hell wasn’t human any more either. I desperately clung to the vision of her in my mind, but her eyes – the ones I could stare into for eons – were slowly slipping away. 

I squeeze my eyes shut. At least I could still envision her sweet smile. If I couldn’t be her husband… I’d have to be her hell.

A couple weeks later

Who knew horns would get in the way? It almost makes me feel sorry, but I couldn’t really feel anything. I worm my way through the trees, grinning to myself that I’d become so strong even Kokushibo had gotten out of my way. After all, I was the only one that could complete this mission; eradicate the swordsmith village.

I suddenly stop, the wind carrying a familiar – nauseating – scent toward me. My mouth feels dry, but my chest tightens as if the heart that was once there yearns to flutter. I pull the nood further over my head, hiding from the sunlight beaming through the trees. The snow made everything blinding, but I could still see. I could still see you.

I swallow, freezing in my advance. What were you doing here? I feel sick and…hungry. My nose curls in a snarl as I take a step forward. In my mindless draw toward you I make a noise that makes you twirl around. 

My breath catches in my throat, a thrumming sensation building in my chest. “Hello?” You call out. 

Your voice. It washes over me in a blanket of what I had lost. In a blanket of what I still yearned for. I bring my forearm to my mouth, biting down so I don’t call back to you. Today was my birthday and the heavens put you before me. So I call out in that name I always did.

4 months later

I’d been watching you. I couldn’t leave your side – or at least that’s what I told myself. I sought after your company from miles away. I watched as Obanai hunted for me, his face ragged with lack of sleep. I boiled with jealousy as I saw you laugh with that bastard Giyu. Then in an unexpected twist, my brother cared for you. There was a little girl as well – you loved her. 

I loved you. I loved you. I loved you. I loved you. I loved you. I love you. Hunger. Hungry. I slip into the shadows. A while later I hear yelling. Your voice. I’d become addicted to the sound of it. Even in this state. 

“Wait Momo!” You sound worried. I grin to myself. I always knew you so well. I could tell by the slightest inflection in your voice what you were feeling. 

“You killed papa,” A tiny voice huffs. I turn, taking in the panting sight of the little girl – Momo. She’s dragging your nichirin daggers behind her tiny body. I killed her papa? Yeah… I guess I did. I feel a pang of what a human might call guilt, but it's swallowed by the sudden urge to slay this small child. My mind goes blank as the largely demon part of me pushes what little human thoughts I had left down…down…down.

I can taste blood. It’s a glorious snap of bones. I crave the syrupy sweetness of innocence. My body shifts, feeling something sticking out of my thigh. One of your daggers the girl had stabbed me with while she screamed your name. Her blood drips down my jaw now. That sickening smell assaults my nose again and before I have time to react I hear a thump against the ground. 

I know it’s you. I can smell you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I’m so hungry. I turn my gaze away from the corpse in front of me. You’ve fallen to your knees, sobs choking your next breath. My arm twitches. “S-Sanemi?” You weep out and my name has never sounded so melodic. I could kiss you. You were here. For me.

Your scent fills my head, but for whatever reason I can smell my own scent as well… my human scent. My gaze drops to your stomach where a very obvious bump rounds your yukata. How had I not picked up on this yet? You were pregnant? With whose… then it dawns on me. 

Mine. You were pregnant with my offspring. A twinge of pride courses through my veins. I can feel three souls interlocked. Twins aye? I bring my gaze back to your trembling one. A boy and a girl. I want to ask you what names you have picked out. 

A low rumble echoes out of my chest as I move toward you. I want to wipe away your tears. I want to be your husband… “Petal.” I sneer, reaching toward your cheek to collect the steady stream of tears. Blood mixes with your sorrow. You slap my hand away, face morphing into anger. You scramble away from me. 

Yes, I wanted to be your husband…but I was your monster.

Present time {yn POV} 

Fate is a cruel mistress to have my body warm with recognition. My husband…my monster. What happened to him? Your eyes fall to Momo’s crumbled body again and the wash of grief carries you to your feet, scrambling away from the scene. “Petal, my love?” 

Your body recoils at the swallowed sound of his words. The fangs protruding from his mouth mumble his speech. “Get away from me.” You pant. His head tilts. “Get away from me!” You scream. There’s a collective breeze that blasts past you as Obanai appears next to you, Giyu not too far behind him. You feel like sobbing all over again. 

Obanai’s face is contorted in confusion and his arms shake with unbridled anger. “Sanemi?” He calls out. Giyu’s head whips to stare at the demon before all three of you. 

Sanemi scoffs, standing up from his position on the ground. “Was I so easy to replace?” He coos maliciously. “You spread your legs for every Hashira?” He chuckles, moving behind Momo’s body. Obanai and Giyu’s face fall as they realize what’s going on. 

HIs words hurt, but at this point you were too numb to even care what venom he’d spew at you. “Don’t talk to her like that.” Giyu commands, drawing his katana. Sanemi clicks his tongue, shaking his head. 

“Don’t you talk to her.” He growls, his eyes flashing a deeper crimson. “She’s mine.” 

“Yn! Get behind me!” Genya yells, appearing next to you. No, no, no, not Genya. This kept getting worse and worse. His eyes tremble as he stares at his big brother. A monster. 

Your back is pushed against a tree as Sanemi draws his own katana, beckoning the three men around him to attack. “Don’t you know it’s not okay to touch what isn’t yours?” He taunts. Obanai is the first to make a move. Swinging a gust of purple swirls toward the old wind Hashira. He deflects it was a sickening familiar green strike, twisting in the air like he’d taught you. Giyu rushes in, surging forward with his own water breathing style. 

It’s hard to make out what’s happening as the woods erupt in blue, green, and purple. Kaburamaru slicing away at Sanemi’s arms while Giyu cleanly attacked his abdomen. The dagger that was in his thigh slips away, clanging to the ground near Genya. 

He glances at you, his eyes easing into a sad smile as he picks up the weapon. “Genya…no.” You whisper, but he’s already gotten up. He turns on his heel, saluting you proudly before driving the dagger deep into his brother’s chest, pinning him to a tree. You gasp, seeing blood splurt out of Sanemi’s mouth. 

Genya and Obanai nod at each other. Together they intertwine their breathing, aiming for Sanemi’s demonic neck. Before they can make it, Sanemi uses his own breathing to send Genya flying against one of the trees next to you. “Oops,” He hums, turning his attention to the two Hashira still attacking. 

A scream builds in your throat, but nothing comes out. With trembling legs you rush toward when Genya’s bloodied body lays on the forest floor. “G-Genya.” You sob, collecting his bleeding head in your lap. His eyes are still smiling as he peers up at you. “No, no, no, no please. I can’t lose you too.” Your tears plip on his cheeks, mixing with the grim and plasma on his face. His hand limply finds yours. 

“You,” He coughs up blood, spitting it on the ground next to you. “Won’t.” He wheezes, squeezing your hand. Your face crumples into his hair, breathing in his comforting scent. 

You wouldn't lose the other one this easily. You couldn’t let another Shinazugawa die. You glance up, seeing Obanai and Giyu wearing thin as they war against the much stronger wind Hashira. You were useless and your soul felt like it was wilting. 

You had to do something. Something. Anything. “Sanemi.” You say, but the name is barely above a whisper. All the memories of what you had lost and everything you’d gained build enough pressure in your chest. “SANEMI!” 

Your scream gains his attention just long enough for Giyu and Obanai get him against a tree again. Obanai flipping as he sends his blade toward Sanemi’s throat. You watch in horror as a single tear falls from Sanemi’s eye. You swear he mouths I love you before his head disconnects in a straining last few moments. The kiss of sunrise blinks through the tops of the trees and it’s over. Everything is over. 

A month later

“I still can’t believe you didn’t name one after me.” Genya huffs, groaning as he shifts in his cot. You grin, smiling down at the bundle of innocence in your arms. Shinobu treds next to you, gazing down at the baby in her arms as well. 

A glaze of warmth is over her eyes. “I still can’t believe you came back…” She trails off, patting the cheek of your son with the pad of her pointer finger. You lean your head on her side, smiling up at her. 

“But I’m glad I did. There’s no better place to raise them than here.” You say, the feeling in your chest blossoming when Obanai and Giyu walk through the door. “Hey guys!” You greet, rising from your chair. Obanai stays near the doorway, but Giyu opens his arms as he walks toward you, taking your little girl out of your arms. “Is everyone on the way?” You ask, eyeing Obanai. He nods curtly, his face lighting up every so slightly when Shinobu shows him your son. 

You help Genya to his feet, guiding him the short distance to headquarters. The other three follow behind you, chatting and cooing with the babies. “Do you think you’re going to be alright?” Genya mutters, looking at you with concern lining his face. You nod your head, a sad smile lifting your lips. 

“I will be now.” The April spring wind blows a lovely flowering scent toward your group. You bask in the sunlight as you walk the rest of the path. “Hey guys, could you give me a minute?” You suddenly ask, an overwhelming feeling calling out to you. 

Shinobu gives you a worried look but then nods slowly. “We’ll meet you there, okay?” She says and within a moment the group has disappeared around the estate house. You turn on your heel toward the wisteria tree, still standing sturdily in the back garden. 

A deep breath brings the smell of blossoms through your body. “Jinya looks just like you and Momo has your attitude.” You laugh, gazing up at the hanging petals. “I miss you Sanemi.” You whisper. A gust of wind carries a few dancing petals toward you and your heart warms. “I love you so much.”

I love you too, petal.

[little-fae-hero]

Linked Universe, The Chosen Hero

My headcanons/aus

Art by Atro

Colored version.

Long talk/Ideas under the cut. Warning for dark themes, sickly appearance and death visions (Note: I may stuff over time but nothing will be delete from the list).

Twilight. Wind. Legend. Hyrule. Four. Time. War. Wild.

Sky (Skyward Sword). Other Nicknames: Hylia’s chosen, Sleepyhead, Cloud, Birdbrain, First knight, Skyloftan.

Titles: Hylia’s Chosen Hero, The Hero Reborn, Hero of Skyloft.

God who has claim over his soul: Hylia

Part of First’s soul: Caring/kindness (biggest piece)

Note: While he is technically called the ‘first hero’ he wasn’t actually the first hero. The first one while saving humanity was wounded, and died. However the first hero was scrapped from history, so by all accounts Sky is the ‘first hero’. He’s also the ‘first hero’ by a time travel and the grandfather paradox.

History:

Link was just a boy on Skyloft, he was in the knights academy along with his best friend Zelda and his rival known as Groose. They are bonded with Loftwings which are considered half of their soul. Link gets a weird dream, is woken up and then has to go looking for his Loftwing, Red. Link eventually finds his Loftwing and wins the race, officially graduating and Zelda gives him her sailcloth.

A tornado pulls Zelda out of the sky, Link tries to help her but it is seemingly useless. When Link wakes up, he’s called by a mystery figure who lures him down to a secret place, where the Goddess sword is located. He meets the spirit in the Goddess Sword, her name is Fi and she was given the task of helping the chosen hero defeat the Demon known as Demise, she offers that if Link takes this adventure he will find Zelda as well.

Eventually during this adventure Link learns the truth, that Zelda is Hylia reborn, that this was a long plan coming and just exactly who he is. Despite everything he still goes after to save her, having to forge the Master Sword to make sure it can actually be strong enough to kill the demon. After facing and killing the demon, Demise uttered a curse, to always be reborn and that the ones with the goddess blood and the hero spirit can never know peace. Link says goodbye to Fi but has to grapple with what he’s learned, he still loves Zelda and his new quest is to settle on the surface and have a family with Zelda for as long as his body will allow.

Death: Happened soon after his second child with Zelda. Suddenly his soul was becoming too much for his body and burned him from the inside out. He died out on a walk, Zelda did her best but couldn’t get his heart to start again.

Interesting stuff/Headcanons:

Link learns about his past and gains memories back after his first temple. He kept trying to push and go forward so Fi had to push him into the water to save him.

Basically his soul was burning up his body.

He does have a slight breakdown after this and is left with a burn scar over his heart.

After the final battle, Sky is lit with lighting scars crawling up his body. Most are seen on his neck, but some hint up to his face.

Sky talked a lot with Fi and really grew to care for her, she was the only person who would talk about the past with him. He still talks to the sword even if he won’t get an answer.

He learns a lot of songs and a lot of stories that he shouldn’t know. He knows history that has been lost to ages and will forever stay lost.

Sky falling asleep isn’t natural, it was a safety measure done by Hylia, to try and keep his soul from burning out like the last hero.

So if he sits down for too long without something to do, he will fall asleep.

He also suffers from visions and dreams about the future. Some are vague but others are not. He knew he was fated to die before Zelda’s hair even turned gray.

The prophetic dreams come from the father of his soul, and his connection to time. Sky has the dreams cause he has the biggest soul piece.

Sky tries to stay on the positive side because 1) it’s in his nature and 2) if he didn’t he probably would have broken down by now.

Sky has come to terms that Zelda isn’t Hylia, she may have some memories but Hylia couldn’t be bound in a mortal form (at least not like in the games), she is just what Hylia thinks are her best parts (you can think like Zelda is a daughter or offshoot of Hylia).

Zelda and Sky both deal with an identity crisis and bond over it. Zelda does try to find ways to stop Sky’s visions from coming true.

He keeps a feather from his Loftwing in his hair, so he can always be connected to Red.

He took up woodworking and whittling to keep himself awake when he sits down.

Unlike the others, he seems to be the only one experiencing the curse, it could be because he has a bigger piece of the original soul.

He can play the harp, specially he still carries around and uses the goddess harp.

He can cook, he just often doesn’t because he would doze off while something was cooking.

Just because Sky is sleeping doesn’t mean he’s resting, so he has bags under his eyes despite the amount of sleeping he does.

The bags combined with his pale skin that never seems to get darker, gives him a gaunt appearance at times.

His visions have also allowed him to see what the others deal with on their adventure (as well as their deaths). He mainly tries to come across as someone you can talk to.

Sky adores birds, he doesn’t understand why all the others seem to hate them.

Sometimes he feels a bitter envy for the other heroes, not knowing their fate, not knowing the burning feeling digs into his chest.

Sky is very protective of Fi and the Master Sword, he doesn’t understand how someone like Time sees it as a curse.

Sky can actually feel/see the other hero’s spirits or the broken part. Sometimes his mind screams at him to do something, but he doesn’t know what. (it’s like a faint greenish glow)

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