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sabraeal · 11 months

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If the Mind Is Willing, Chapter 3

[Read on AO3]

Part three of 500 Follower prizes @bubblesthemonsterartist earned herself years ago! Only two more and I will have fulfilled all those fics...probably just in time to have a 1K follower raffle

Blue light washes her pink sheets pale, until it’s impossible to tell when cotton ends and her skin begins. The shadows pull longer in its glow, turning her own nearly skeletal as she reaches out a finger, hovering over the link.

“U-J-Kyo?” Chizuru’s mouth wraps around each letter, the sound of them tumbling softly into the muted glow. “But that’s just...?”

The university’s homepage. And her laptop’s, technically, now that Yamazaki helped her set it. Not something she’d normally associate with Souji’s interests, not unless he’s started some new hostilities with the provost’s office again. Their last open letter hung on the fridge until just before Thanksgiving, the second paragraph asking for “certain individuals in the student body“ to “show more conduct becoming of an undergraduate of a prestigious institution” highlighted proudly in lime green.

Dean Kondo dropped by the house only a few days later-- for a friendly visit, he’d said, smile as warm as she remembered. He’d stayed for dinner, complimenting the soup she’d made from their leftovers, and then talked with Souji out on the porch until the swing’s chains started to creak. The letter disappeared the next morning, unremarked, though Souji kept glowering at the bare metal every time he passed through the kitchen.

Chizuru swipes tentatively at the screen, messaging app blooming beneath her finger. The link’s innocuous, known, but Souji has a gift for slipping a sting into any handshake. And if he’s calling it a gift, well--

[ToudouDomination] omg holy shit dude nice knowing u hijikatas gonna kill u 4 sure 💀💀

Professor Hijikata’s taught her enough about Trojans to take that kind of present at face value.

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] *skullfuck u mean skullfuck ull b the most beautiful corpse at ur funeral bro

Her lips press tight, clinging to each other as close as the rubber case to her phone. If everyone’s acting like this about it, it’s better that she doesn’t look.

[ToudouDomination] MY funeral???!! what’s this got to do with me??!!

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] nah man im not talking ab YOU im talking ab dead man walking over here

She’d regret it if she did, probably.

[Dr 💖💋🤭] jfc I’ll say somethign nice at you’re disciplinery hearing

[ToudouDomination] Me??

[Dr 💖💋🤭] No one’s talking about you Heisuke

It’s an accident, really. Her thumb skims up the side of the screen-- scrolling past the sudden influx of skull and fire emojis the boys heave into the chat-- and the pad of it just barely brushes the link. It flashes under the pressure, blue then purple, selected, and well...

There’s no harm in just letting it happen, is there? It’s only the university homepage, nothing--

Ah. That’s what it should be at least. But instead of the azure and white, there’s text curling across the screen, a half dozen different hand-written poems in blue bic and college rule, tiled across every inch of the background. There’s coffee stains on them too, some in the corner, and some in rings, like they were more used to being coasters than literature. And in the center of it all--

“Oh.” She blinks, tilting her screen to get a better view. “A video?”

Hogyoku Open Mic, it reads at one corner, reflection on water. A strange choice for Souji; he’s never mentioned an interest in poetry, let alone live readings. Frowning, Chizuru tilts her phone, letting the video fill the screen.

It plays, and oh, several things become clear, all at once.

“My heart is pure,” the man on screen promises, words raking over the gravel of his voice-- how little of it there is marks his age more than the lack of lines on his face-- but Chizuru’s isn’t, not when she can’t do much more than stare, fingers numb around the rubber case. “I use my palm as an inkstone.”

The camera pans closer, and yes, above that black dress shirt-- open to its third button, oh goodness gracious-- is Hijikata. Not the one she knows now, the grizzled professor who kicks his feet up on the desk and uses profanity as punctuation, but--

But a much younger man, not much older than her, considering the last little bastions of baby fat clinging to his cheekbones.

[Dr 💖💋🤭] This muts be a hundred pakcs of cigs ago

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] 💯

[ToudouDomination] do moths feel desire or is that like a poetic thing he talks about rain a lot too whats that all ab

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] its a sex thing

[Dr 💖💋🤭] Shin don’t tell the baby taht

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] hes a growing boy he has to learn sometime better he hears it from us hijikata fucks 🍑🍆🍑

[Saito.Hajime] Can I please be removed from this group? Also, congratulations, Souji, on finding a new, creative way to die

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] no way if we all have to think think about hijikata fucking u have to suffer too

[Saito.Hajime] I am not certain I care for that logic

[Dr 💖💋🤭] Too bad, bud. Your stukc with us

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] yeah bro u signed the housing contract ur here til death comes for u or like u move out or smthn

Chizuru means to stop the video, really she does. It’s not something Hijikata would want them to see-- at least, she assumes so, considering the way he flushes every time Souji brings up his graduate school slam jams, threatening to expel him if he doesn’t ‘shut his damn mouth.’

But the one on the screen smiles as he finishes his set, smouldering out past the stage lights, and she-- she expects snapping, some cool cats with shades and berets nodding their heads to his truth or whatever mood this is supposed to give. A respectful silence, one that gives space to the idea he’s introduced to the space, but instead--

Instead there’s screams. A full audience of women-- and a few particularly enthusiastic men-- loudly voicing their appreciation for what she’s hoping is the poetry.

Ah, maybe Shinpachi is right. It is a sex thing. And she’s watched a full ten minutes of it.

Hijikata can never know. Or worse--

[Susumu Yamazaki] Take this down. Now.

[( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)] eat my ass

Her heart ricochets around her rib cage, panicked, before it lodges itself in her throat. It flutters there, queasily, and-- and there’s no way he could possibly know, but still, guilt seizes her. She shouldn’t have looked, not once she knew. She should have been the first to say it was wrong. Helpers can only help when they know there is a problem, that’s what Father would have said. If you cannot perceive it then you are part of it.

She could say something now. Her hand squeezes tight around the case. No, she should say something now. She has to, because father will ask. She’ll tell him about this frantic midnight showdown, and he’ll say, and what did you say?

And if it is nothing...

[Susumu Yamazaki] Take it down now. Or I will get university IT involved.

[( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)] you don’t have the fucking balls

[Susumu Yamazaki] Try me.

Even with her eyes closed, her failure is inescapable. The words flash behind her eyelids, no longer composed of ones and zeros but scrawled in neon lights instead, reminding her that if she were better she could have fixed this. That if she were good enough, she could have found the magic phrase to get them all to get along. But instead...

Silence, that’s what he’ll give her. A long pause where all his expectations weigh on her, piling on her chest like boulders on a criminal. A cluck of his tongue, and a soft, I thought I raised you better. Any moment now, her phone will ring, and Father will know what a disappointment she is because--

It’s Christmas. Just about everywhere but Hawaii. A couple other islands in the Pacific too, if she’s being fair. It’s Christmas, and he’s supposed to call because that’s the way it’s always been: her staying up late not to catch Santa and his Reindeer but Father emerging from his office. It’s her that would tromp down the hall with all the grace of an elephant, to fling her arms around him and yelp, Merry Christmas!

And it was him who had to be stern, who must put her back down on the carpet and scold her for being out of bed. Who has to wait until she’s nearly shut her door to stop her, to call out, Merry Christmas, Chizuru.

It’s supposed to be her first. The one given moments after midnight, the most real, and-- and--

And she’s spent the whole day waiting for an empty office.

There’s a part of her, one that’s still too short to reach the microwave and can’t bear the kindness next door, that thinks she missed it. That there’s some dead zone in the house that she unwittingly lingered in, or a notification that her phone somehow swallowed whole. That it’s her fault she never presented herself to be loved.

But there’s another part, one that’s growing every day, and that one--

That one’s just tired.

It’s tired that wins out, in the end.

There’s a weight that drags at her, urging her to stay within the cocoon of her covers, to let the night unfurl across her screen, each blow reported in black and white right before her eyes. A passive observer, an active disappointment, but most importantly: unmoving.

Even still, she gets up, throwing the cloud of her comforter back so that she can slide out from underneath it. Her heels hit the floor with a force that chatters her teeth; or maybe that’s just the chill of the air now that her body heat is no longer trapped up against her skin.

Her phone settles on the nightstand, cozening up to the lamp, and for a long moment, she thinks about turning it on. Every muscle complains as she peels her day clothes off and exchanges them for pajamas, her eyes straining to make out what’s a hole and what’s just dead air, and yet--

Yet it’s easier than facing herself.

The same weight drops her back onto the mattress, an anchor sinking into the endless depths of open water. She isn’t sure when she’ll hit bottom, but staring at the blank screen beside her feels entirely too close to it.

It’s with a trembling finger that she guides the volume from full to vibrate. Even that makes her heart race, makes her wonder if she’s just punishing Father for having priorities besides a fully adult daughter, the same one who had so happily told him she would support his sabbatical wherever it took him. What if he needs to get a hold of her? If there’s an emergency on Borneo or San Cistobal or whatever island his research took him? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just keep it on a little, just in case--

Her fingers flex. She deserves to sleep tonight, what little of it there is left. And if this is on...

Vibrate changes to mute. The phone flips over, screen pressed against the wood.

“Good night, Daddy.” She gives the case one last, small tap. “Merry Christmas.”

“Hey, jailbait.” Something warm nudges her shoulder, not gently. Chizuru has the space of exactly one breath to wonder what, before the same something grips both and shakes. “Get up!”

“Haah?” Her hands flail out, but whatever’s gotten hold of her slithers out of her grip, retreating past her arm’s reach. “What...?”

It’s bright when her eyes peel open, the sun already seeping through the curtain even though it can’t be more than--

“Class!” Her limbs fly out, wild as she tries to turn over, tangled up in the tight embrace of her covers. “I’m late for--”

“Hold up a slice, shortcake.” Souji looms over her, tall enough that his knees barely brush the bed to do it. “No classes today.”

“No...?” It’s not as if she has anything to say, brain moving at a snail’s pace that it is, but her mouth keeps moving anyway, as if just working her jaw might help get the gears moving. Which it does, oddly enough, reminding her it’s not a weekend but a holiday, and not just any holiday but Christmas, and--

And Father never called. Unless it came in the night, after she’d put herself to bed. After she’d not only turned off the ringtone but vibrate too, leaving him no chance to hear her voice, forcing any attempts for him to contact her straight to voicemail, like she didn’t even care--

“Hey.” Souji knees the mattress, jolting her outstretched elbow right into the corner of the nightstand. “Get up already.”

Painful tingles race up her arm, bouncing from elbow to shoulder and back and, oh, why is it called the funny bone when it’s not funny at all? “Souji, why are you--?”

A bleary blink turns the blurred numbers on her clock to something like sense.

“Oh!” She bolts upright on the mattress, sending Souji skittering back a step. No wonder he’s deigned to scratch at her door; Harada might be the oldest, but of the three of them, Chizuru’s the only one that can be trusted with the stove. “It’s late! Are you hungry?”

“No.” This close, it’s easy to see that furrow flash between his brows, the quick reassessment of his opinion. “Well, yeah. But that’s not what I want right now.”

This early, her brain’s as bleary as her vision, but it won’t clear no matter how much she blinks. “Then what...?”

He heaves a sigh; her only warning before long fingers clamp around her wrist, cold as iron. “Just come with me already.”

It’s a feat to get untangled from her blankets; there’s a knit one sandwiched between the top sheet and the comforter, plus another for more weight-- and heat, since she shares her thermostat with Shinpachi and Harada, whose bodies both run at a temperature verging on medically alarming if they think sixty-five degrees is comfortable. It’s harder still with Souji yanking at her the whole time; she’s not certain whether he does it because he’s impatient or because her struggling amuses him. Possibly both, knowing Souji.

Impatience, however, wins out. One foot wins free, planting itself on the bedside braided rug, and he snaps, “Hurry up. We don’t have all day.”

She’d love to, if only the comforter hadn’t swallowed her up to the ankle, cinching tight when she tries to pry it apart. “Ah, I know! Just give me one--”

Unless she’d meant to say second-- which she hadn’t, not at all-- Souji doesn’t give it to her. Instead he tugs, and she stumbles off the mattress, dragging half the blankets with her. “Good,” he huffs, barely glancing back. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Souji has a terrible habit of making things worse the longer he’s made to wait, but she digs in her heels anyway. Or, well, the one that isn’t still trapped in Poly-Fil. “Can I at least put on my robe?”

“Why? It’s not like there’s anyone to see your cute little Christmas--” he squints “--raccoons?”

“Tanuki.” She smooths her hand over the fabric, one of their round faces peeking playfully out from between her fingers. “They’re just so fluffy.”

Souji stares at her, stone-faced and silent, and-- and it’s longer than that his teasing typically takes. “Right,” he says, stilted. “Whatever. Just hurry it up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Chizuru is keenly conscious of every second Souji suffers her, all-too aware of how impossible it is to win a race against the limits of his patience, but she’s determined to make the most of what she’s given. It’s hopeless to aspire to Hajime’s cool efficiency, but she tries, keeping her movements sharp and purposeful, as if putting on her robe required the same sweeping grace as his kata, and yet--

Yet she barely cinches the knot tight before he’s grabbed her again. “C’mon, princess. We’ve got things to do.”

It’s a struggle just to keep her feet beneath her, but she manages a very eloquent. “Huh?”

His mouth quirks, too pleased, as he tugs and she stumbles, bare feet barely braced against the jamb. “People to piss off.”

Ah, well that’s hardly promising.

When all is said and done, he doesn’t drag her far. A cold comfort, considering.

“This is Hajime’s room,” she informs him. His grin assures her he already knows. “And, Ya-- ah, I mean, Su-- uh, um. S-susu...?”

The name’s foreign in her mouth, tongue stumbling and stuttering around it, and it’s-- it’s just odd not to use it, when she’s so used to Souji and Hajime and Heisuke and Shinpachi and even Sano, if it feels safe to say, instead of intimate. As if she’s letting all the rest of them close while keeping him at arm’s length.

Which isn’t true. But still, she can’t bring herself to say Yamazaki’s first name so casually, not when even Heisuke, who barely lasted three hours before asking if she was cool with nicknames, hasn’t managed it. With the syllables rolling around in her mouth, it’s almost...

Illicit. That’s it. “Is there a reason you need me here?”

Souji’s mouth curls, so satisfied she’s surprised she can’t see feathers between his teeth. “Yes, definitely.”

“But they went home for the holidays.” She frowns. “Did you need something in there? I’m pretty sure it’s--”

His leg kicks back, and with one smooth swing, he completely bypasses the need for a doorknob, the open door shivering from the force.

“-- locked,” she finishes faintly. “Oh my.”

One hand catches the door, long fingers splayed across the grain. “After you, jailbait.”

She nearly balks-- it’s not as if it’s his room; he hardly has the right to invite her-- but the door swings open, and she--

She’s never seen this before. Yamazaki’s room. Or Hajime’s, of course. A tour down the hallway would be enough to get a glimpse into any of the other rooms; Heisuke hadn’t even waited a day to drag her into his, pointing out all his favorite posters. Harada and Shinpachi took a few weeks longer, though she’d spent most of that visit with her hands clapped over her eyes. Even Souji tolerated her shuffling a step over the threshold, even if it was only to ask for him to help her reach one of the taller cabinets. But Yamazaki and Hajime...

Their door has always been carefully shut, not even the slightest gap for a peek. An easy habit to explain away; the both of them value privacy over accessibility, choosing to socialize in the common areas of the house rather than in their room, but still--

It’s almost surprising how normal it is. Not that Chizuru expected it to be wallpapered floor to ceiling with centerfolds, like Harada and Shinpachi’s room, or crowded with collectibles like Heisuke’s, but maybe white walls and stark sheets, monochrome and neat as a pin. The sort of room that would seem unoccupied, if it wasn’t for the monitors on the desks. Sterile.

Instead there’s posters. Not crowding the walls, so close that the corners overlap, but there’s personality, if not chaos. Enough to know that the boy who sleeps under the navy comforter likes movies with kimonos and swords or computers from the 80s, and that charcoal comforter likes wuxia and vintage medical diagrams. And books too, if the stack teetering on his bedside table is any indication.

Chizuru shuffles a step further into the room. It would be rude to rummage, but surely-- surely it wouldn’t hurt if she just read the titles. If she just stooped down the tiniest bit and--

And tripped over Souji, shoulder-deep beneath Yamazaki’s mattress. “W-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he grunts, annoyed. “A guy that uptight’s got to be hiding something. And not just the normal stuff. The kind of something that’s gotta be top shelf fucked up.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Oh come on, you know what I mean. Whips and chains.” He drags his arm out with a huff. “Autoerotic asphyxiation. Snuff tapes.” Souji reaches up, flipping over his pillows. “Yiffing. Who could say what a small-dicked little turd like him is into?”

Half those words are unrecognizable, and so it’s not until he’s on his feet, poking through desk drawers that Chizuru realizes, “You mean you’re looking for...for...” Her mouth works, cheeks painfully hot as she manages, “Girlie magazines?”

His fingers still, pressed into a sheaf of glossy page edges. “I’m trying to find porn, Chizuru. That’s what we call it this century.”

The book shuts with a snap, joining its friends on the shelf, and when he reaches for another, she blurts out, “Don’t people just watch that online now?”

Souji laughs, not kind, but abandons the bookshelf. “And everyone thinks you’re so innocent, huh, princess?”

Her hands clap to her cheeks. Ah, she hadn’t realized it could be painful to blush. “I, um...only, ah--” Souji flings open the closet “--I don’t think you should really be--!”

“Jackpot.” The hangers rattle as he slips something off the rack; with only the sunlight eking in around the blinds to light the room, it’s hard to see just what. “What do you think? Would it look good on me?”

The fabric’s black, limp and shapeless on its hanger, utterly unrecognizable. “I don’t...?”

“Nah, no way I could fit into that shrimp’s costumes.” The light might be dim, but Souji’s teeth practically glow when he says, “But you could, half pint. C’mon, get over here.”

She doesn’t have much of a choice, not when he grabs her wrist and yanks. “I don’t understand,” she murmurs, watching him separate a smaller piece from the whole, more uncomfortable by the second. “Why did you need me when you were only going to..um...?”

Steal seems a little strong for the moment. Scrounge falls a little short.

“Ahhh, see, kid, last night I left a little gift for the whole student body. Right on the main page, where everyone could appreciate it.” He steps entirely too close, the warmth of his body filling the space between them. “And our favorite little ass-kisser didn’t appreciate it.”

The scrap slips over her head, cool and smooth where it settles around her neck. “So he took it down. Or got some of his nerd friends to do it. Either way...” Souji shrugs. “It’s rude to give back a gift, isn’t it?”

His wrist twists, the cloth pulling tight against her skin. Tight enough that only a twitch guides her into a nod. “See? That’s what I thought too. Kid needs to learn a thing or two about manners. So that’s what I’m doing.” Souji grins, the fabric loosening as he lets it slip from his fingers. “Teaching him a lesson.”

“B-but...” Her focus stumbles as he steps closer, threading his hand beneath the few inches of her hair that don’t clear the fabric and pulling them free. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“It’s cute that you don’t know.” His smile could cut when he slips the cloth right up over her nose. “This is a hostage situation, jailbait, and you’re going to read from the script. Now look over here.”

She does, blinking right up into the blinding light of flash photography as his arm squeezes her close. “What...?”

“Perfect.” Souji’s lips slant to a smirk, phone pinched delicately between his fingers. “Now I just need to post this in--”

The lights flick on. Neither of them are near the switch.

But Hajime is.

“Just what,” he says, brows drawn down like a storm, “do you think you’re doing in here?”

There have only been three house meetings since Chizuru showed up on their doorstep, hair shorn and all her earthly possessions split between a backpack and a trash bag: the first, called by the professor, to announce that that there would be a new roommate; the second, to decide how exactly to handle the fact that Chizuru wasn’t a boy’s name, nor was she; and the third, well...

I’m not complaining that you invite girls back, Sano, Shinpachi had said, with all the gravitas of a judge, but you can’t let them wander around. She went through our trash, dude!

But this-- it’s different. Not just because of the Christmas lights, festively twinkling through their cycle, or Shinpachi’s sweater blinking through its own.

It’s that they’re all here, Christmas afternoon-- evening really, with how early the sun sets these days-- holidays cut short. Chizuru might not have anyone to spent Christmas with, but Shinpachi did, and Heisuke, and Yamazaki--

And instead they’re all here. Because of her. Not a single one of them is smiling.

It’s too much.

“I’m so sorry!” The words burst out of her, rushed, but it’s important to get them out before anyone else can speak, before they think she’s only sorry because she got caught. “I really didn’t mean to go in! I just...Souji said...”

“Narc.” It’s muffled in his shoulder, just loud enough for her to hear. And maybe others, the way Yamazaki’s brow twitches across the table.

“Chizu, Chizu. Come on.” Shinpachi holds up his hands, as if a half-hearted sweep like that could clear the slate of her worries.. “No one here thinks this is your fault.”

It’s kind of him to say, but that’s...impossible. Not when she’s so clearly transgressed. “I went into Y-Yamazaki and Hajime’s room without permission. That’s against the--”

“No, Yukimura, that’s not--” Yamazaki’s teeth clack down, hard. “I don’t mind if it’s you. Ah, I mean--” his ears flush the same angry pink that licks up the column of his neck “--it’s, er, different.”

“You are respectful of other people’s personal belongings,” Hajime clarifies. “There is no issue with you in our private space. Souji, however...”

“Oh, come on.” Souji kicks his feet up on the coffee table, baring every hole in the bottom of them. “It’s not like I broke anything.”

Yamazaki’s eyes hone onto him-- or rather, the parts of him only inches from Harada’s iced mocha, so close a flex of a toe could touch the coaster. “Right, you only stole something. Not like that’s a big deal.”

“Stole? Like I want--” with a sweep of his palm, Yamazaki clears the surface of appendages, so precise it doesn’t even disrupt the condensation on the cup “--hey!”

He doesn’t smile, but when Yamazaki glances up at the couch, his satisfaction shines just as bright as one.

“Souji.”

Hajime is not like Shinpachi, using his outdoor voice in every room no matter how small, or Heisuke, unable to control his volume once a conversation gets interesting. He’s soft spoken, serious; the sort of person other people lean in to hear, rather than ask him to speak up.

But today, he pitches his voice to be heard. “You cannot enter someone’s assigned private room without express permission.” With even graver inflection, he adds “It is against the rules put forth in the Signed Housing Agreement.”

Souji snorts, sinking further into the couch cushions. “No one pays attention to that crap.”

Air hisses between Yamazaki’s teeth. “That’s--”

“If I am not allowed to leave the group chat unless a member of the house boots me for a pre-agreed upon duration,” Hajime says, mouth pulling thin, “then you are also not allowed in my room.”

His glare is hardly aimed at her, but it comes close enough that she flinches. Souji doesn’t, refusing to acknowledge it that same way a cat declined to be caught on a curtain, as if reality was simply an opinion he did or did not hold. “I didn’t even touch your stuff. I don’t know why you’re trying to--”

“You did touch Yamazaki’s stuff, though.” Harada shifts in his chair, the vee of his sweater dipping deep enough to bare cleavage. It might be distracting, if it wasn’t already a relief that he was wearing all his clothes. “Which is against the rules.”

“Yeah, that’s fucked up, right?” Shinpachi cracks open a tall boy, cold enough that the beer fizzes out, threatening to drip right across the festive moose on his chest; HORNY AND WELL HUNG according to the words knit into his sweater. “There’s no locks on the doors, man. We’ve all got to trust each other.”

Chizuru blinks. “But I have a lock.”

He pauses, mid-sip. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You’re a girl, after all. Can’t have a girl be alone with a bunch of guys if there no--”

“My room also has a lock.” Hajime frowns, considering the socks Souji’s just returned to the table. “Hardly a good one, if Souji was able to bypass it with just his foot, but...”

“Me too,” Heisuke chimes in. “I just don’t really use it.”

“Wait, what?” Shinpachi swivels between them, lost. “Are me and Sano the only ones who don’t--?”

“I think the best course of action is to inform Professor Hijikata about the infraction.” Kneeling on the carpet next to Shinpachi’s luggage, Yamazaki’s hardly an authority figure, but when he raises his voice the room fritters to silence. “I’m sure he can take it from there.”

Harada hums, unconvinced. “I don’t know about that. Souji’s already got two strikes against him. If we report another one, I’m pretty sure Hijikata’s going to toss him out.”

They might be more suggestions than eyebrows, but still, it makes an impression when Yamazaki furrows them. “I don’t see why that’s any of my concern.”

“Aw, c’mon, Yamazaki.” They all might tease her about her pleading eyes, but it’s Heisuke that uses them now, as compelling as any puppy in a pet store window. “You know Souji doesn’t have anywhere else to go. You wouldn’t throw him out in the cold just like that, would you?”

His mouth pinches, bracing the way the rest of him is, squared off and utterly implacable. “Souji is a grown man who can make his own decisions. If those decisions lead to him getting tossed out, that hardly has anything to do with me.”

Souji snorts. “None of the people who complained are even here anymore.”

Yamazaki whips around, eyes so cold they could turn any other man to ice. Souji just smirks. “Yes, because of you.”

“Well, I don’t know...” Heisuke hums, thoughtful. “Ryu left because of that art program. You know, the one that had the scholarship.”

“Only after Okita shoved him off--!”

“Oh, c’mon.” Souji’s shoulder twitch, barely summoning up the energy for a full shrug. “That’s all water under the bridge.”

Yamazaki surges to his feet; only Harada’s hand, keeping him from jumping the table too. “You broke his wrist in three places! The only reason he didn’t press charges was because his foster father is somehow an even bigger asshole than you!”

Souji picks his grins the same way a chef picks his knives from the block: with the intention to cut. “No hard feelings.”

“Hard feelings?” Yamazaki chokes out. “You think this is about hard feelings? When Itou left, he--”

“Itou was a prick.”

Hajime doesn’t so much sigh as hum, raspy and dubious. “That doesn’t mean that what you did was right, Souji.”

His eyes narrow, annoyed. “Don’t pretend you miss him running around the place, acting better than everyone.”

“No, no. He’s got a point.” The easy chair grunts as Shinpachi shifts his weight back, crossing his legs ankle to knee. “They both do. You know I don’t want to kick you out, man, but you’ve got a bad habit of taking stuff way past funny right into, well...”

“An actionable offense?” Harada offers, wry.

A blunt nail taps at his can, uncomfortable. “Yeah, that. It’s not good, bro.”

Something happens with Souji’s mouth. A lot of somethings, actually; subtle ones, hidden in the corners and tucked into the cheeks, the sort that happen between one blink and the next. Missable, save for the fact that Chizuru never looks away.

There’s a jut of his lip first, not a pout but its more serious cousin, the kind that’s like a levee to a deluge: one tremble away from a flood. A scowl next, never quite reaching his eyes; good practice for the smile that follows, curving into a smirk the way steel takes an edge: like it’s meant for it.

“All right, all right.” His hands raise up, too lax for a peace offering. It might stand in for a concession, if she tilted her head and squinted, but only a little. “So you’re all mad at me or whatever.”

“For good reason.” It’s a strong stance for Harada; he’s usually the one who’s quick to compromise, so long as it keeps everyone civil.

“Sure, right.” Souji shrugs, unconcerned. “I get it. But consider--” fabric whips out from behind a pillow, matte and black-- “this.”

Chizuru blinks. “Wasn’t that in...?”

Yamazaki’s closet, she doesn’t say. Not when he shakes it out, turning it from cloth to clothing, a whole jumpsuit with fussy embroidery picked out in an even darker black.

“What’s that?” Shinpachi scoots to the edge of his chair, squinting. He must not have his contacts in. “Some sort of ninja costume?”

She knows better than to turn, to draw attention to the statue suddenly sitting across the table, but Chizuru can’t help it, not when Souji is so quick to say, “It is.” There’s enough relish in his tone that she can taste it. “And it’s Yamazaki’s.”

There’s a pause-- for effect, she’s sure, considering the way Souji grins. Like he’s pulled off some magic trick, making his troubles disappear in one hand and then plucking them out from behind Yamazaki’s ear.

“So?” Harada snorts, unimpressed. “Are you surprised? He’s been a ninja for Halloween like, what? Three years running? Since I’ve been here at least. What next? Gonna pull a sexy firefighter out of Shin’s closet?”

“Hey!” A hand presses right over WELL, leaving HORNY and HUNG peeking out from underneath it. “I’ve branched out! This year I was a sexy soldier.”

“How can you tell?” Heisuke mutters, hunched shoulders making his chest even narrower, more concave. “You’re only wearing like half a costume.”

“We’re not talking about Nagakura.” With all the subtlety of a bomb, Souji drops, “We’re talking about Mr Kiss-Ass and how he has like, five of these tucked away for a rainy day.”

It’s been three months since Chizuru managed to insinuate herself into the house, but not once has it been quiet. Even in the night there’s something: Shinpachi snoring, Harada’s flings trying to find the front door, Heisuke up entirely too late typing up papers or-- more likely-- playing video games. Something. But now--

Now it’s a ringing silence that’s left in Souji’s wake, an awkward air that has every shoulder stiff, every eye finding somewhere else to look besides the place where Yamazaki sits, still as a stone.

Or at least, until Hajime slides forward, dexterous fingers smoothing over the raised stitches of the sleeve. “Oh,” he hums, impressed. “Your skills have really improved since your last attempt. I take it this is for next weekend?”

“Ah...” He swallows, loud enough that even Chizuru can hear. “Y-yeah. The new kunai were too heavy for the belt, so I thought if I remade that, I might as well add a few more quality of life adjustments, and, er...”

“Oh my god,” Heisuke breathes, quivering like a corgi at the end of his leash. “Are you a real ninja?”

A broad hand cuffs him on the back of his head. “C’mon,” Harada mutters. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

If Yamazaki’s ears were painted pink before, they’re crimson now, hot enough to burn from touch alone. The square of his shoulders deflates, rounding with the slow leak of his confidence, but--

But Hajime simply nods, stroking his chin. “Perhaps I should look at my own as well. It hardly feels adequate next to all the work you’ve done.”

“Is this like...a sex thing?” Shinpachi’s eyes dart between the two of them. “It’s a sex thing, right?”

“No,” Yamazaki says, stern, immediately undermined by Hajime’s, “A little.”

It’s with a hefty heaping of betrayal that Yamazaki turns to him, glaring as he grounds out, “Absolutely not.”

Hajime’s mouth gives a dubious twist, and he opens it, perhaps to gainsay him, but--

But there’s no time, not when Heisuke practically explodes. “Are you a ninja too, Hajime?”

He blinks. “No.”

“Oh.” Heisuke deflates. “Okay, I guess...”

“I’m a samurai.”

“What--” Harada’s voice strains beneath the words “--is going on?”

“So let me get this straight.” Harada’s fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose, but by the wrinkle above them, Chizuru doubts it helps. “You two...dress up as samurai...?”

“I’m the samurai,” Hajime explains, so helpful. “Yamazaki is currently playing as a ninja. As he typically does.”

“You don’t have to tell them that,” he mutters. “That’s not really the point--”

“Right, of course, but...” Harada grimaces. “This is what you do on the weekends? For fun?”

A narrow shoulder lifts under Hajime’s tee, the closest he comes to a shrug. “An afternoon a month, to be more specific.”

“Once a month?” Heisuke asks, wide-eyed. “That doesn’t seem like a lot.”

“It takes a large amount of effort and dedication to keep up a long-form Live Action Roleplaying campaign,” he explains gravely. “That the organizers are able to run so often is a testament to their skill. And to run a weekend event--”

“So you mean you go there the whole weekend?” Heisuke blinks. “Like just forty-eight hours of samurai stuff?”

Hajime’s correction comes the same way as all his interactions: swiftly and without any judgment. “Seventy-two hours.”

Shinpachi goggles. “That’s a lot of fucking hours.”

“It is to aid with immersion.” Hajime isn’t a man of many words, but now he does not so much pause as he does breathe. “Unlike other games of its kind, Legend of the Five Rings does not focus so much on combat as it does internal conflict, and the robust worldbuilding--”

“This isn’t what they’re asking.” Yamazaki’s gaze darts wide-eyed around the table, never daring to stay longer than a blink. “You don’t have to--”

“--Is based on Sengoku Era Japan,” he continues, heedless. “As gratifying as it is to play on a regular basis, it really isn’t until a few hours into any session that people truly come to embody their roles. The court politics alone--”

“Saito.” Yamazaki may be seated at the opposite end of the living room, but his stare is enough to make even Hajime hesitate. “I think they get the idea.”

Harada looks between them, pained. “So are there...scripts or something?”

“No. Yes.” Hajime frowns. “It’s complicated. Each scene is improvised in character, but the organizers are present to facilitate the flow of the story. It is a collaborative effort.”

“But that’s it?” Heisuke asks. “You’re just like...samurai for a day? Or, er, three of them?”

“Yes.”

“And you do this--” Harada’s eyebrows furrow, pained “--for fun?”

Hajime doesn’t answer so much as cock his head, hands outspread as if to say, what else?

“That’s so...so cool!” Heisuke leaps to his feet, practically tripping over the table in his excitement. “Can I go? You guys gotta bring me!”

“What?” Harada blinks at him. “You want to go to this?”

“Uh, yeah?” His hands clench, too excited. “You get to be a samurai, Sano! Who wouldn’t want to?”

“Hey, so.” Shinpachi leans in, face pinched in curiosity. “Is this like...D&D or whatever?”

“In spirit,” Yamazaki creaks out, looking like death warmed over.

He nods. “Right, right. So like...a total sausage fest, or...?”

“The numbers on many tabletop games typically skews toward male,” Hajime explains, “but Live Action Roleplaying draws a higher percentage of female participants. Possibly due to the cosplay aspect.”

Shinpachi grins. “Oh, then count me in too, sensei.”

Harada stares at him. “Who are you?”

“What?” Shinpachi shrugs. “It’s math with babes. What’s not to love?”

“Ah...” Yamazaki waving hands don’t do much to hide his grimace. “I don’t really think this will be as interesting to you as you think...”

“He’s right,” Harada presses. “You may think it’s a good place to pick up women who aren’t afraid of, er, theoretical numbers--”

“They’re not theoretical,” Shinpachi huffs. “They’re real, it’s just the equations used to describe them are--“

“See? Already my eyes have glazed over.”

“I don’t know,” Chizuru hums, pitched just loud enough to be heard. “I think it sounds...fun?”

Yamazaki’s stare fixes on her. “Really?”

Even as a girl, Chizuru had never been one to play dress up, never been one to play pretend-- father didn’t approve, for one. Not when there were more direct benefits to be had from drilling flashcards or reading books. A second, her daydreams were vivid enough she hardly needed to act them out, not when Father was so apt to remind her, princesses don’t have to pass their medical exams.

But Yamazaki is as serious as they come, a TA for the dean of the pre-med department even before graduating. His acceptance to the medical school almost assured, and he finds this worth his time. Enough to have made a costume-- with his own hands!-- and sign up for a whole weekend away from his studies...

“Y-yeah.” She ducks her head, hoping to hide the heat that pricks at her cheeks. “I mean, as long as it wouldn’t be a bother for me to, um...”

“Ah, no! I mean, yes. Never.” Yamazaki shakes himself, pink staining the high arch of his cheekbones. “It’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, Chizu!” An arm clamps around her shoulders, dragging her against Shinpachi’s personal light display. “That’s right! Let’s all go. House field trip!”

Yamazaki’s jaw drops. “I don’t, er, know about that--!”

“Fine.” Harada sighs, getting to his feet. “If Chizuru wants to go. Count me in.”

“That’s the spirit!” Shinpachi claps him on the back, hard enough that even Harada has to cough. “Now, that just leaves...?”

“Uh-uh.” Souji’s arms fold over his chest, forbidding. “No way I’m going to your nerd party.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Shinpachi drops between them on the couch, arm pulling tight. “Think of it as a group bonding experience.”

Souji scowls. “What makes you think I care about bonding with any of you--”

“Well, if you’re going to be that way about it.” He squeezes tight enough to eke a squeak out of him. “Think about it as, ‘if you go we won’t tell Hijikata about you stealing shit.”

Souji glowers. “Fine,” he grumbles, shoving him off. “But I won’t like it!”

Shinpachi’s smile is all knives when he replies, “Wouldn’t expect you to.”

It’s dark when Chizuru stumbles out into the hall; there’d been daylight still when they’d piled into the parlor, but now night clings to the the edges of dusk, only enough light to gild the snow in golden shadow. It might bother her more if it wasn’t such a relief, a respite from having to scrape at the last reserve of her smiles. And so she takes it; one big breath and the muscles around her mouth slump, aching from use.

Any other night, she might worry about one of the boys following out behind her, but she can hear the ruckus shift from the parlor toward the kitchen, wheeled baggage and Shinpachi’s booming voice all tromping toward the back stair. Her day may have happened in fits and starts, but everyone else has been on the move, going from Christmas to short notice travel to fraught house meeting all within the space of hours. There’s no one who’s going to be worried about her.

Which suits her just fine. A few minutes lying face down on her comforter and she’ll be right as rain. Just a breath or two to herself, and--

Someone huffs behind her. Right behind her.

She whips around so fast, she nearly tumbles Yamazaki into the wall with her. Or at least his arm, half outstretched, now just hanging there in the air between them.

“Oh!” There’s no reason for her to shy back, but she does, guiltier with every inch. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“No, no. It’s my fault.” His hands aren’t large, not like Harada or Shinpachi, but the fingers are long and tapered, digging runnels through the shaggy bristle of his hair. “I should have-- ah, I mean, I just saw you, and er, wanted to make sure that you were all right. After, ah...all that.”

Her first instinct urges her to laugh, to let her nerves giggle out, there’s no need to worry about me--

But Yamazaki stares at her with the same careful intensity as he had in the kitchen-- you’re worth a good meal-- and Chizuru tries deflection instead. “I’m the one who should be asking you that! I went into your room without any permission and all, and Souji--” Yamazaki grimaces at the name “---I just...you have every right to be mad at me!”

“You?” he echoes, incredulous. “It’s not your fault, Yukimura. Okita’s the one who dragged you in there.”

She shakes her head. “I could have chosen to leave any time. I just was too curious to think to question him.”

“Curious?” There’s no inflection to the word, and with the shadows making a muddle of his expressions, there’s only the tilt of his head to tell here there’s a question. “Why would you be curious?”

“Ah, I’d just...never been inside before?” Her palms clap to her cheeks, and oh, she must glow from how hot her cheeks burn. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not! It’s just, ah...unexpected. I...” His mouth opens, as if he might say more, but with a lick of his lips, it closes instead. Or rather, his chin dips down and it follows, gaze dropping from her eyes to somewhere at her neck. As if...

“Oh, did I spill...?” She can’t actually remember what she’s eaten today, whether it could be something that she could walk around wearing, but Yamazaki’s already shaking his head.

“Ah, no, it’s just...you still have...” His fingers curl hesitantly in the air between them. “If you would let me...?”

Every twitching nerve of her stills as he steps close, fingers skimming past her shoulders. Only days ago she’d knotted his scarf, but it feels different now that he’s the one reaching, so close his hand meet behind her neck. He’s not bundled up now, no three layers of wool and thermal and parka to keep her from realizing that he smells nice, like...like something clean with a hint of eucalyptus, and it’s...

It’s a lot.

His fingers knit into the fabric at her nape, too slippery for him to find the end of it by touch. At least, the first time; he gathers it up, hiking it higher and higher until he can slide under it, the flat of his nails smooth and warm against her neck. Her pulse pounds so hard he must feel it, but Yamazaki doesn’t flinch, instead lifting it with surgical precision. The stretchy fabric threads right off her ponytail with no more than that initial brush of fingers, and she--

She stare. It’s the mask. The one Souji put on her. All this time, and she’s-- she’s just been wearing it, like some sort of...scarf. Right over her tanuki pajamas. In front of everyone.

In front of Yamazaki.

If she could melt into the woodwork, it would be a miracle. But as always, reality refuses to oblige her. “Oh, I hadn’t even...ah...”

“Please, don’t worry about it.” His fingers smooth over the fabric, mouth curving into a rueful smile. “It looked better on you than it does on me.”

“Ah!” Her gasp catches in her throat. “That’s not...um...” She hakes her head, hoping that might clear enough room for a sentence or two to compose itself. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Yamazaki glances up at her, amused, and oh-- she hadn’t meant to say that. Not like that.

“You know, I meant to...” He stops himself. Not abruptly, like she does, but a slow, thoughtful halt. Like a train pulling into a station rather than a car braking for a yellow light. “I mean, I don’t think I ever got around to saying it last night, and today, with everything...well”

He hesitates again, a breath hissing between his teeth. But this time his shoulders square, and even though his gaze is lost in the shadow of his brows, she knows he’s looking at her. “Merry Christmas, Yukimura.”

#yamachi #hakuouki #my fic #modern au #college au #If the Mind Is Willing #LARP au #FINALLY THE REVEAL IS HERE #writing a group scene with like six dudes is the absolute worst let me tell you that #and i have so many more of them to go next chapter #while having to explain an obscure tabletop game #BUCKLE UP KIDS IT'S TIME TO LEARN ABOUT BUSHIDO

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jin-c-stories · 2 years

Text

A Conversation With Death

Hey! I was in a reflective mood the other night and wrote this. It's not based on my religious believes but is just a fun story.

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A Conversation With Death

Everything before me was dark. I stepped into it, walking further into the darkness. Behind me was a bright light. It felt right to move on. I was ready.

A person was in that darkness. His face remained neutral as I approached. “Are you Death?” I asked.

“Is that who you think I am?”

Giving the question some thought I answered. “Not entirely, but I can’t be sure.” The absolute darkness in the distance was unchanging, but my human eyes caused shadows to dance and play. Teasing me with their games. “Are you the Devil, or God?”

“Do you believe me to be either?”

“No.” His energy was becoming more familiar to me the longer I talked to him. I had known him my whole existence. “Does that mean Heaven and Hell aren’t real?”

“What do you believe?”

I smiled. “I’ve never believed in them. The whole ‘your actions will be harshly judged,’ and ‘Hell is a hot place where you watch your skin melt off, Heaven is a place made of gold where everyone lives like celebrities’ never sat right with me.”

“What do you want Heaven to look like?”

Galaxies sparked at my fingertips. A book twirled from the nothing. “Infinite knowledge. Seeing everything from a perspective I couldn't imagine. That doesn’t feel fair to me though. Knowledge should be something earned, not given.” The book disappeared as a smile grew on my face. “Watch it be an existence that I can’t even fathom yet.”

“That’s not what you really believe.”

“No, it’s not.” I tapped colors into the void that quickly faded. A child’s happy squeal echoed. “Mama, mama!” My socks slide on the kitchen tiles. By some miracle I stayed up right.

“Hey Jinny.” My mother greeted me.

“Look what I did!”

“Did you draw this?”

I nodded.

“Awe, it's so pretty, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

I had forgotten this moment. My mother’s smile as she hung my picture on the fridge. Later I would find all those pictures neatly organized in a couple filing bins.

“To me, this would be Heaven. Living in my past for all of eternity.” The scene faded leaving us in darkness again.

“Some would see this as Hell.” My old friend responded.

“It is.” We sat in silence for what only felt like a second, but was likely an eternity. If time could even reach us out here. “Do you also greet dinosaurs?”

He looked at me perplexed.

“I mean if you greet all souls that die that would mean you’ve seen dinosaurs, dogs, and other animals right?”

A small laugh escaped the ancient being. “Yes, I have.”

“But you don’t greet them as a human. After all, humans are a more recent phenomenon. If I had been a triceratops would you have greeted me as one of my own kind?”

“That is what I did, isn’t it?”

“It was.” I smile. Turning back I study the light I came from. “I have a lot more to learn before I come back here.”

“You do.”

I turned back to him. “I was probably the easiest soul you convinced to go back, wasn’t I?”

He remained silent.

Taking that as my cue to leave I stepped towards the light.

“May I ask you one last question before you go?”

I glanced back at him, hoping he would stop me. “Yes, of course.”

“What do you believe the afterlife really is, and my role in it?”

The void stared at me from behind him. From it came whisperings from a life nearly forgotten, but that I already knew. “You are a guard. You stand on the edge of nothing to guide lost souls back to the last paradise. The last of what used to be many. When I come back I will try to create another, I promise. This time we will get it right, we humans may be destructive but I know we can do better than our predecessors.”

He nodded. “Me too.” His eyes were filled with hope. “Until the next time we meet, farewell.”

I walked alone into the light, prepared to learn all I could, for the next time I met with death.

#short story #writing #books #a conversation with death

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benevolentcalamity · 3 years

Text

Dragon x Human (Female) Reader

I’m bored.

This is gonna be a two-parter, just FYI.

You’d learned the legend of a dragon that lives in a cave at the top of the mountain. Dare you say you had visions or even dreams of it flying over your village, not to harm but simply to remind your neighbors that it is there, alive, and far from a myth. Though you were known to be different - a bit weird, even, so your father practically challenged you to find this great beast.

“Dragons like music and fancy things, right? So take your harp with you... Just hope he brings you back! Hahaha!” It’s easy for him to laugh over a good ale.

So you’re here, ascending the mountain path. Carved for adventurers like you, more or less, but it’s the first clue you may find something. Which would be a relief, considering your knapsack, which mom packed because there was no stopping you, weighs a ton and you want to sit down.

Something falls on your nose, and you flinch, peering up for a moment before more drops on you, until your face is nearly drenched. The clouds above turn dark, lighting flashing in the distance but fast approaching, and your hair stands on end in fear as you run as fast as your legs will allow as the rain beats down on you and the ground below.

“If you’re not back by tomorrow night,” Your mother’s words echo in your head, “We will send someone to find you. I might not be able to stop you but I am still your mother.”

Yea, thanks...

Opting for shelter wherever you can find it, you find an enormous cave just when your legs are ready to give out, lumbering into it and plopping down once you’re somewhere dry.

Leaning back against the cave wall, you take your knapsack off, setting it beside you and your harp on the other side. Thankfully it’s not ruined by the rain, but it’s still wet. It’ll need time before you can properly operate it again.

Reaching into your bag, you find an apple and a small wedge of cheese. Deciding not to be too greedy, you set the cheese on your leg, biting into your apple. It’s crunchy and sweet despite everything, soothing you from the thunder and lightning burning the sunlight away from the remaining white clouds.

Finishing all too soon, you decide to chuck the core out into nature, bringing the cheese to your lips. Much to your relief you only eat half of it, putting it back in your bag and settling back in. Finding your cloak, you drape it over yourself, yawning.

BOOM!

The thunder sends you upright, shrieking for a moment. Deciding to get away from the noise, you pick your bag up, adjusting your cloak as you go further into the cave, swallowing as it grows darker seemingly with each step. It’s confining, but you don’t wish to face the lightning when it frightens you so.

You blink, and there’s light eventually after a sharp turn. Torches light the walls, leading into an enormous area filled with... treasure.

It’s more than you’d seen in even storybooks, from gold coins to ancient necklaces, to even mirrors and gems and everything in between. Mesmerized, you venture closer, before you trip on a goblet and into the pile, freezing up at the resulting noise.

A breeze, hot as if to warn of fire, soars through the cavern, and you helplessly stand, bag and harp falling from your arms as you hear dull thuds echoing through the cave.

Something’s coming toward you, or this place. Something... huge.

“It would seem I have an uninvited guest,” A gravelly, fatigued voice growls. “Human, let me ask: Would you like it if I entered your home without a proper invitation?”

All you can do is tremble. “N... No...”

“Then why, pray tell, do you intrude?” The scales reflect the fires’ light, and the deep blue serpentine eyes stare down at you, as if daring you to answer. “Think you can haul my treasures away, do you? Touch a single coin or stone and I can promise you now that you will not live to see the dawn.”

You swallow. “I’m not here to steal anything...”

The large head tilts, before lowering until it’s in view of the light. It’s spiky, implying the dragon has been in battle and evolved to survive, the scales a perfect black to blend into the shadows. It stares at you quizzically, as if trying to solve the answer to a riddle.

“Then what is it you seek, human? I warn you, clever words will lead you to a fast grave.”

The feeling slowly returns in your hands. “... I need your name.”

It blinks, amusement entering its eyes. “My name would mean nothing to you, regardless of how our encounter ends.”

Taking in a deep breath to keep calm, you peer down at your harp, then back at the dragon.

“I ran into this cave seeking shelter from the storm. I was unaware that I was intruding into your home, and thus I would like to make an apology in the form of song. If you would allow it, of course, for I hear it’s common for dragons to take a liking to music.” It’s a gamble, but worth trying if this is where you should meet your death.

Curiously, the dragon straightens its head, before exhaling through its nostrils.

“Maythyr.”

With a soft smile, you bow your head. “[Name]. It’s an honor.”

“Indeed it is. Now, you’ve a harp, and my attention.” To emphasize this, Maythyr lowers onto the mountain of coins, laying his head down so he’s closer to you. “Play your song.”

Picking up the cue, you kneel down, tugging the harp into your arms. Poking your tongue out to moisten your lips, you pull a few strings, until a song begins pouring from your fingertips.

youtube

As the notes flow through the air, Maythyr’s eyes close as his head sways to the song. His breathing is slow and calm, with the occasional yawn that sends some small sparks to fade on the treasure below.

Noticing his sleepiness, your song comes to a halt. Standing back up, you move to retreat away, when his eyes snap open.

“Did I say you could stop?”

Sitting back down, you continue your song, but his eyes remain locked on you.

“You’re from the village just down the mountain, correct?” He asks. You nod. “Then I am fortunate, that you are not far. I think I would enjoy it if you would play these songs for me should you return.”

Blinking, you tilt your head. “Do you mean to invite me?”

“Consider it more of an order from a superior beast,” He chuckles. “I ask myself why I haven’t burned the village to cinders, then a human like you shows themselves, and then I remember why. You amuse me, greatly so, and as such not only will I spare you, I welcome you to return.”

You’re not sure whether this dragon’s favor is a blessing or a curse.

“But what if I’m not allowed to return?”

His teeth show, but more in a grin than a ravenous intent to eat you.

“Then I shall wear your kind’s skin, and seek you out by your melody. That is my word as a dragon, that I am bound by. I look forward to our next times together, little songbird.”

You reflect his smile, but more out of nervousness of what’s to come than excitement.

Oh... my...

#dragon x reader #hi #my writing #monster x reader #monster x you #dragon x you #dragon x human #dragon story

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travissimblr · 3 years

Text

Sims 3 Performance Guide

Lately I have found the direction of The Sims 4 to be rather lackluster. Let’s face it. The game is boring. Still looking for that “Sims Fix” I found myself going back to playing The Sims 3. The Sims 3 can be tricky to get running correctly on modern computers so I figured I would share what I learned over the years. I made this guide a few years ago for another forum so I’m always open to new suggestions/edits etc. Some things may work well for others while some may not make a difference at all. I have applied all of these fixes in my own game and I still experience lag so this is by no means a guide to completely eliminate the lag in the game but a guide to perhaps help your game run a little bit smoother. All of these tips have been gathered from all over the internet and also some things I have picked up on my own over the years. I own a legit copy of the Sims 3 and have never owned a pirated version so I can't say whether or not these settings will work with a pirated version of the game. I also only have a PC so I don't know if any of these settings will effect the Mac version of the game. If anything I hope this guide brings people back to The Sims 3 or allows people to give the game another chance. The guide will be pretty extensive and I take no responsibility if you mess up your game :P

Limit Game FPS - This one has been a godsend. I was experiencing major lag especially in build/Buy mode. My computer is way over spec for this game much like most computers today. What would happen is that while in Build/Buy Mode my FPS would spike into the 200's! During these spikes the game would almost be un-playable.

To fix this issue:

Download this file: https://rd.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/34]https://rd.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/34

I know it says it's for Skyrim but it will also work for The Sims 3. After downloading it unzip the antilag.cfg and d3d9.dll into X: > Program Files (x86) > Origin Games > The Sims 3 > Game > Bin if using Origin. If you have the steam version of the game use : X: > Program Files (x86) > Steam > steamapps > common > The Sims 3 > Game > Bin . By default it is set to limit the game to 30FPS. I have been using this and it works fine. You can change it to 60FPS if you want by opening the antilag.cfg using notepad. I haven't had a chance to test the game at 60FPS but its not like The Sims 3 is a First person shooter or anything so IMO its probably not necessary. Run the game and your FPS should be capped at 30.

Alternately you can try turning on Vsync in either Nvidia Control Panel or AMD Catalyst software however I wasn't able to get it working. I'm using a Geforce 1080 and the latest Nvidia drivers. When I turned it on in the control panel it did nothing in the game.

After installing this fix I no longer experience massive lag spikes while in Build/Buy Mode the whole game also seems to be running a little bit smoother as well. Unfortunately there isn't much we can do about EA's terrible coding of the game so there will still be lag but this one has helped my game more then any of the other fixes as of yet.

**It also must be noted that FPS fix uses the same file as Reshade, d3d9.dll. I haven’t tested if this works using the d3d9.dll file from Reshade but I can assume it probably doesn’t. I do however believe there is a frame limiter built into reshade which should accomplish this same thing as this mod.

In Game Settings

1. Graphics

Resolution - You should always play at the native resolution for your monitor. Most monitors today use a native resolution of 1680x1050 or 1920x1080. If your game is struggling at this resolution you should always lower the graphics settings not the resolution.

Windowed? or Fullscreen? - This one is something that you will have to test. Some people say that the game runs better for them in Fullscreen and some say it runs better in Windowed Mode. My personal game runs better in Windowed Mode.

Object Hiding - Enabling this can help to increase performance especially if you have a large house. Essentially what this does is that the game renders every object on the lot you are in even if you aren't on that floor. So if you are playing on the first floor the game is using resources to render the items on the second/third floor etc.

Reflection Quality - Setting it to Mirrors and Water will work well for most people but adjusting this lower can offer a slight performance increase.

Edge Smoothing - I personally have not noticed much of a difference in performance adjusting this setting but this is the Anti Aliasing settings for the game. Try lowering it and see if it makes a difference in your game.

Visual Effects - According to the game "Controls the quality of particle effects on objects, Sims, and the town" Medium would be the recommended setting for Visual effects. It offers a happy medium between performance and visual quality.

Lighting and Shadows - Adjusts the shadow quality in the game. I run this on high in my game as there isn't a noticeable difference in performance between medium and high settings. Turning it to low will give a slight boost in performance but the shadows will be ugly.

Tree Detail - Keep this setting on high as there really is no difference in performance between settings. All you end up with are some ugly trees and no real boost in performance.

Enable Animation Smoothing & Enable Advanced Rendering - Both of these items should always be checked. Enable Animation smoothing makes no difference in performance and Turning off Enable Advanced Rendering can actually decrease performance.

Draw Distance - Keep this on high as it does not effect performance.

High Detailed Lots - With this turned up all the way I noticed a fair bit of stuttering in my game. I have mine set to 4 lots but this is a setting that should be tested to see what works for you.

Texture Detail and Sim Detail - Most computers should be able to handle both of these settings maxed for a small boost in performance you can lower the texture detail to medium. Sim Detail should always be set at Very High as lower this setting has only a very small boost in performance that probably wouldn't even be noticeable.

2. General Settings

Enable Shop Mode - This will disable the Sims 3 Shop from In-Game. Turning this off can help with stuttering.

Enable Lessons - Turning this off can possibly help with performance. I haven't noticed a difference but at this point we all know how to play The Sims.

Memories - Disabling Memories can offer a boost to performance and reduce in game stuttering.

**Alternately you can try using this mod if you don’t want to completely disable the memory system in The Sims 3

No (or fewer) automatic memories by velocitygrass on Mod The Sims

https://modthesims.info/d/446281

Enable Interactive Loading Screens - Turning this off has been said to reduce some in game stuttering. Besides nobody wants to play that stupid game anyway.

3. Online

Keep Me Logged In & Enable Online Notifications - Turning off both of these settings will help game performance and reduce stuttering.

4. Advanced Demographics Options

Enable Story Progression - Turning this off will reduce stuttering in the game. If you like this setting you can use the NRASS Story Progression explained further in this guide.

Advanced Settings

I will try to guide as best as I can with these but always MAKE BACKUPS of every file modified in this section.

In order to make this process easier be sure that "Hide extensions for known file types" is unchecked in the Windows Folder Options. In Windows 10 Click on View > Options > Change folder and search options. Switch to the view tab and under Files and Folders uncheck "Hide extensions for known file types"

Edit GraphicsRules.sgr - This setting will help the game run smoother and make for faster clothing changes.

1. Got to X:\Program Files (x86)\Origin Games\The Sims 3\Game\Bin

2. Copy the GraphicsRules.sgr file and back it up in either in a safe location or even in the same directory just name it GraphicsRules.sgr.orig. Click yes when prompted with the rename.

3. Now Open GraphicsRules.sgr with notepad (not the copied version)

4. You will see four lines that look like this: seti cpuLevelUber 4

seti cpuLevelHigh 3

seti cpuLevelMedium 2

seti cpuLevelLow 1

5. Change the four lines to this: seti cpuLevelUber 4

seti cpuLevelHigh 3

seti cpuLevelMedium 3

seti cpuLevelLow 3

6. Save in Notepad and close Notepad.

Edit Sims3.ini - This is how you force the game to use more then 2GB of RAM. I noticed a massive improvement in both CAS and Build/Buy mode with this. Clothing,Objects etc load almost instantly when this is changed. The Origin version of the game has already been patched to use 4GB of RAM however adjusting this value to reflect your systems total ram amount if above 4GB can be beneficial. If you currently have 4GB total of RAM and are using the Origin version of the game you can skip this step. It’s questionable whether or not this makes a difference in the game as The Sims 3 is a 32 bit game that only uses 4GB to begin with but it seems to actually make a difference in my own game.

1. Go to X:\Program Files (x86)\Origin Games\The Sims 3\Game\Bin (same as GraphicsRules.sgr)

2. Backup the Sims3.ini in the same method as the GraphicsRules.sgr

3. Open Sims3.ini in Notepad

4. Under [ResourceSystem] you will see this:

MemoryUsageLimit = 20000000 ( 10000000 for legacy/disc versions)

5. Ignoring the zeros this is showing that the Sims 3 is only using 4GB of ram (2gb for Legacy/Disc versions of the game). Depending on the amount of ram in your system you should change it to half of your total amount of ram. Examples:

8GB Total Ram MemoryUsageLimit = 40000000

16GB Total Ram MemoryUsageLimit = 80000000

32GB Total Ram MemoryUsageLimit = 16000000

**Be Sure to only change the first number not any zeros. For 32GB+ its the first 2 numbers. Putting this too high could cause your system lock up or crash and possibly do damage**

Modding

First go here and follow the instructions on this page to set up your Mods folder: https://www.carls-sims-4-guide.com/forum/index.php?topic=9187.0

1. Must Have Mods - Even if you don't plan on putting any CC in your game these Mod is highly recommended if not needed in order to keep the game running Smoothly.

NRAAS Master Controller -

https://www.nraas.net/community/MasterController

This mod is a must have. It fixes many of the errors in the game and helps immensely with game lag and stuttering.

Under Modules Download: (Not Required but useful)

MasterController Cheats - Adds "cheaty" functions to Master Controller.

MasterController Expanded Tatttoo - Expands the number of locations provided in Tattoo CAS

MasterController Progression - This mod adds progression related interactions to the "Master Controller" menu. Addition to Story Progression (below)

MasterController Integration - (Must have if you install a lot of sliders) This mod replaces all the CAS interactions in the game with the one managed by MasterController, including the "Create-A-Sim" button in "Edit Town".

Now go to this Page and download these other “Must Have Mods” by NRAAS

https://www.nraas.net/community/Mods-List

Overwatch - (Important) Contains error correction and periodic game maintenance/clean up to reduce issues and improve game longevity.

Error Trap - (Important) Core-Mod that performs save-game corruption cleanup, while catching and reporting unhandled script errors.

Traffic- (Important) Controls autonomous vehicular traffic such as the Food/Ice Cream Trucks, and provides some minor vehicle routing settings.

Saver - (Important) Adds autosave function to the game.

Register - (Important) Replaces the EA Role Manager with a custom version that corrects several bugs and allows for greater flexibility.

Other Useful Mods at NRAAS (Optional) Same page as above:

Story Progression - Basically a less buggy, less performance heavy replacement for the EA story progression in the game. Be sure to tick off “Story Progression” in the In Game options as stated above. (Install all the optional modules as well)

Decensor - We all know what this does

Dresser - Adds automated outfit control for inactive sims, adding accessories, and restricting CAS parts.

WooHooer - Alters the romance and woohoo interactions, provides greater flexibility and attraction scoring.

Retuner - Provides fine tuning of many settings in game like autonomous settings, pricing etc. This one can seem daunting at first but there are plenty of Returner settings to be found out there and its really isn’t that difficult to change the settings in game albeit time consuming.

Be sure to look over the other mods if you see something you like download it. Any of these mods should be safe to add to your game with little to no performance impact.

After that extract the files you just downloaded into \Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 3\Mods\Packages\Overrides If you don't have an Overrides folder create one. The “Overrides Folder” is essentially a priority folder. Mods put into this folder will be loaded before any other package files you may add to the game.

In-Game NRASS Settings

These are just some settings to change to improve game stability. This is by far not comprehensive. For Retuner settings I would suggest a Google search of other users settings or consulting the NRASS help section for explanations of how to use this mod.

Click on the Town Hall in Map View Under NRASS

Traffic

Ice Cream Truck - I hate that creepy Ice cream truck so I change everything to false and set Max Ice Cream Trucks to 0. If you like having it around still change the Max Ice Cream Trucks to 1

Routing

Allow Performance Career Limos - False (Limos create a lot of lag in the game)

Allow Use of Cars During General Routing - True (if disabled your sims will only use cars when you tell them to)

Always Use Taxis for Inactives Lacking Vehicles - False (Townies will no longer use Taxis)

Allow Immigration - False (Random Townies wont move into your town keeping the population down and helping to keep performance from decreasing as sims move in.

Animal Control - Change the settings below for a performance boost

Maximum Deer - 2

Maximum Raccoon - 2

Maximum Stray Cats - 3

Maximum Stray Dogs - 3

Maximum Unicorns - 0 (Sorry Wild Horses and Unicorns add a good deal of lag to the game)

Maximum Horses - 0

Custom Content (CC)

Much like any other Sims game moderation is key. The more CC you download and put in you game the slower your game will perform. I'm not going to go into detail about how to install CC in The Sims 3 in this guide. These are just a few important tips to take into account when installing CC,

Try to install Sims3Pack files as much as you can. Sims 3 automatically merges these files and this leads to better game stability.

Merge you package files. Girl Meets Pixels made a great guide here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIZ2LdoT-HY]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIZ2LdoT-HY

Keep an eye on the size of your Sims 3 Folder in /Documents. It may seem crazy to imagine but massive CC shopping sprees can lead to a massive folder to the tune of 30GB+. Skins and Hairs are a killer. These files are usually rather large sometimes in excess of 80 - 100mb. My suggestion would be to find a default skin you like and just use that. Don’t install any non default skins. Also go easy on the hair. You don’t need 20 different variations of the same ponytail in the game. Clothing is usually fine but pay attention to the size of the CC. That cute dress you found on Tumblr that’s 65mb more then likely has way too high of a poly count and will just lag and be slow to render in the game. Sure it looks great in screenshots but it wont be practical in game. I’m not sure of the exact cut-off for CC but eventually the folder gets too large for the game to handle and it will lead to issues like save corruption or in some cases not being able to save the game at all because the game has run out of memory. Sadly if this happens there is no fix for this and you will lose all of your progress and possibly your save file as well.

Advanced

World Fixes EA left many routing issues in a lot of their worlds that are known to cause lag and often times crashing as Sims bunch up in broken routing areas on the map.

All the World Fixes can be found on Ellacharmed's Wordpress page. Follow the instructions very carefully and install the fixes for all the worlds you have installed in your game.

https://ellacharmed.wordpress.com

Other Useful Tips

Delete your cache!! This one can't be stressed enough. I delete mine before every game play and never have issues starting the game up. A guide can be found here: http://simswiki.info/wiki.php?title=Game_Help:Sims_3_Delete_Cache_Files

Turn off Origin In Game - This will give a noticeable improvement.

Close all other programs running in the background.

Turn on Game Mode or Silent Mode on your Antivirus

Useful Sims 3 Programs

s3pe http://www.simlogical.com/ContentUploadsRemote/uploads/189/

Sims 3 Dashboard Tool http://modthesims.info/download.php?t=387006]http://modthesims.info/download.php?t=387006

CC Magic http://modthesims.info/download.php?t=461888]http://modthesims.info/download.php?t=461888

Delphy's Sims 3 Pack Multi-Extractor http://modthesims.info/download.php?t=364038]http://modthesims.info/download.php?t=364038

Save Cleaner by Kuree http://www.simlogical.com/ContentUploadsRemote/uploads/1532/

#ts3 #s3 #s3cc #sims 3 #tutorial #guide #the sims 3

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lilithsrecord · 3 years

Text

𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖑

part 2

♱ 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

outward appearance means nothing if your are unable to carry yourself with grace and confidence. it’s important to radiate an aura that is unique to u and is beautiful and enchanting to others. find your essence. are u an ethereal innocent angel or a bombshell femme fatale? Just by channeling in a sort of character in your demeanour can drastically change how other people view you. you might be wondering “hey this is a bit much just for school,” and ur right but it’s all fun at the end of the day

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝔣𝔢𝔪𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢:

femme fatale: noun

an attractive and seductive woman, especially one who is likely to cause distress or disaster to a man who becomes involved with her.

"a femme fatale who plays one man off against another in pursuit of money"

a femme fatale is a women who shows power through how well she can toy with a mans brain. in hindsight she might seem like a women catered to the male gaze due to the strong enchantment she has upon men, but do not be fooled. a femme fatale is a strong willed and powerful women who only caters to her own needs. she achieves her goals by seducing her pawns to use them to her own advantage. channeling in the characteristics of a femme fatale can make one feel powerful, sexy, and oh so alluring. to become a femme fatale you must ooze with seduction. femme fatale examples include gilda, from the movie “gilda”, jane smith from “mr. and mrs. smith, and amy dunne from “gone girl”.

feel powerful when you walk from one place to another. let other people stare at you while they feel intrigued by ur allure but never completely give them what they want.

make your appearance look bold and striking. be sexy. dress to show off what other people want for themselves. wear dark and luxurious colours. let your hair be free and voluptuous. a bold lip and sharp eye makeup brings attention to the most seductive parts of your face. a femme fatale is nothing without a striking appearance

have your voice sound like smooth whiskey. speak slow to captivate others. make sure your voice comes out prominent and clear. add a slight rasp into your voice. each word u speak should be carefully chosen. people should be addicted to hearing you speak. be sassy and smart but always with class.

smell expensive. pick a scent that exudes class. examples: black orchid by tom ford. mugler alien. good girl by carolina herrera.

a femme fatale makes sure to always get her way. don’t be afraid to use ur seductive quality’s to get what u want whether that is good grades or social status. [ however do not put urself in dangerous positions. please don’t sleep with a teacher lmao ]

𝔠𝔬𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢

coquette: noun

a woman who flirts.

in my own definition a coquette to me is a girl who is delicate and radiates innocence. she is more commonly known as the girl next door or the pretty girl. people become attracted to this essence due to the childish ways of a coquette. though that sounds concerning, a coquette isn’t a women who tries to act like a child on purpose. she is just a women who is naturally sweet and innocent. they hold onto a childlike quality that the rest of us have lost and so desperately crave. the allure of the coquette is ultimately her adorableness. her demeanour is light hearted and youthful. no one feels the need to do her wrong because she is just too cute for any harm. she is an ingenue. examples of coquettes are lizzy grant, cat valentine from “victorious”, alice cullen from “twilight”, and marilyn monroe.

wear clothes that make u look cute. the coquette aesthetic has been around for quite a while. the main aspect of a coquette outfit is its innocently teasing nature. wear bright colours that compliment ur skin like a blush pink, bright reds, and pretty lilacs. make people around u appreciate ur innocent look but know that there imagination is running wild. the makeup for these looks are more natural and rely on the condition of ur actual skin. take good care of ur skin. have a set routine but remember that it’s completely okay if u have pimples! you can still be a pretty little coquette even with acne.

vanilla or any kind of sweet scents are a staple for the coquette essence. ariana grandes perfumes are perfect for making people mouths water for a sweet snack when u walk by. olympea by paco rabanne is my personal favourite.

be kind and sweet to people who deserve it. people need to see u as a sweet and innocent doll who can do no wrong. but don’t be afraid to be risky and be the complete opposite of that once in a while. the rare moments where u show ur femme fatale side will have people incredibly intrigued by you.

perfect your voice. your voice should sound pleasant like some sort of princess. make your voice sound higher but not ear screeching high. add a beautiful mix of air and softness to ur voice. a breathy voice is incredibly intoxicating and suits the coquette.

𝔭ê𝔩𝔢-𝔪ê𝔩𝔢

pêle-mêle: adverb

in a confused, rushed, or disorderly manner.

also known as the manic pixie dream girl, a pêle-mêle is the essence of a girl who is described as whimsical, eccentric and is quite literal the life of the party. though at first glance she’s all rainbows and sun shine, the shadow side of the pêle-mêle can be described as a tortured artist. her optimism is delightful. she is not afraid to take risks. she’s a mess but people can not help to be intrigued by her free spirited ways for she is a drug to people who crave adventure. examples of a pêle-mêle include ramona flowers from scott pilgrim vs the world, mia wallace from pulp fiction, harley quinn from the DC comics, and holly golighty from breakfast at tiffany’s.

don’t be afraid to take risks. risks and adventure is what the pêle-mêle lives off of. be brave. do things you are afraid to do. start small and work your way up like from riding that roller coaster your so afraid of to having a motorcycle race with your friends (trust me those are so fun!). show people just how daring you can be and immediately people will be magnetized to you.

wear clothes that are unique and you feel comfortable with. the pêle-mêle rejects conformity and the way you appear should reflect that. wear clothes that harmonize with your crazy personality. be daring and bold with your makeup. make sure you stand out from the crowd and that you do not care what people think. the alternative style perfectly suits someone who embodies this essence.

be confident. obviously this rule applies to all the essences but confidence and self love is at the core of the pêle-mêle. you need to show people that you do not care what they think of you and that at the end of the day, you are just here for a good time. the more you practice self love, the easier it will be for you to express yourself without the fear of judgement from others.

be a socialite. don’t be afraid to speak your mind to people. pêle-mêle’s are usually people persons. they love good company that they can go on adventures with. make friends by being your true self and don’t hold yourself back. even a few mishaps by saying the wrong thing from time to time can make people fall in love with your clumsy nature.

obviously there are plenty of other essences you can achieve for yourself but these are my top three favourites. to find out who exactly who you want to become try the few tips listed below!

how to find your personal essence

what kind of people captivate you? what type of personalities do you see that you wish you could be? do you find yourself being envious of the pretty girl next door, the man eater, or the mysterious persona? figure out what kind of a person do u wish to truly become and inherit their manner. find out the characteristic of ur desired essence to the littlest of detail. this can include from the way you walk, talk, eat, sleep, look, smell ext. think of this as becoming your ideal best self. take the female archetype quiz to get a better understanding of your self.

what kind of aesthetic catches your eye? do you enjoy the glamorous high fashion life or do you like the softer cherry coke and heart shaped sunglasses niche? maybe you enjoy completely different things or a blend of a few. live up to this aesthetic. do this by expressing this aesthetic in the way you dress to how u decorate your room.

what kind of environment do you feel the most comfortable in? are you someone who loves education and school? or do you love the idea of being free and living in an RV for the rest of your life? maybe you just want to live in a cozy high rise new york apartment or a huge mansion up in beverly hills. envision where you see your ideal self in 10-20 years. your ideal environment can reveal a lot about what kind of lifestyle choices you want to make.

you might be thinking to yourself hey these aren’t the best tips for school. and at an educational standpoint you’re right. but it’s important to embody your best ideal self to truly enjoy this lifetime. these are little things that can be used to motivate you. i believe that inner self work should be prioritized over your school work though both are important. make sure you are taking some time out of your week to find out more about yourself and who you want to become. be the best you.

#dollette #nymphcore #coquette #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #highschool #backtoschool #lolita #lana del rey #lizzy grant #grunge #soft grunge #lawofattraction #spurituality #advice #pretty

280 notes · View notes

becomewings · 3 years

Photo

BTS Universe Timeline

« previous |

TIMELINE GUIDE

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers from all BU media

Revisions and additions will be made as necessary, so please visit the original post for the most up-to-date version (update log is included at bottom of post)

All names are provided as fully as known

Bracketed dates are inferred or calculated from references in the text

While the timeline is presented here as objectively as possible, I acknowledge that there is a level of subjectivity in choosing which information is significant enough for inclusion and in certain connections drawn between entries

Please inform me of any suspected errors; I will investigate and correct them

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

School Years: Together & Apart

- March Year 19 through 10 April Year 22 -

2 March Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Ten days after returning from the U.S., SeokJin and his father visit the principal’s office at his new school. SeokJin learns that he will start one grade lower due to the different education systems. SeokJin’s father grips his shoulder while the principal explains that school is a “dangerous place” that needs to be “tightly controlled.” He asks: “You know you have to keep me informed, right? You’ll be a good student, right?” SeokJin squeezes out a “yes” and his father lets go. Both ChangJun and the principal laugh. SeokJin looks down at their shining shoes, wondering from where the light is coming.

Note: SeokJin’s 25 June Year 19 entry in Notes 1 specifies that his father attended the same high school. JiMin’s 23 July Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals that, according to a comment he finds on an online news article, ChangJun and the principal were in school at the same time and fought with each other “as if it would only end when one of them dropped dead,” but they appeared to get along later due to politics.

3 March Year 19 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.1

On the first day of school at Songju Jeil High School, the Dean of Students berates the six latecomers lined up outside: SeokJin, NamJoon, HoSeok, JiMin, TaeHyung, and JungKook. YoonGi arrives even later. The Dean assigns them one month of community service as punishment. When he notices SeokJin, he clears his throat and says he is letting them off because it’s the first day: they must all assemble after classes to clean the annex, a classroom turned into a storage room. This room becomes their meeting place and hideout even after their punishment is finished.

Note: Their punishment for being late is referenced in JiMin’s 12 March Year 19 entry in Notes 1, when he escapes to the old classroom again and finds the others already there. He observes that it feels as though they’ve been “hanging out together forever.” The punishment scene is also similar to a moment in the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR. Although it includes a few extra students and cannot be confirmed as BU content, it does mirror the canonical detail of YoonGi arriving last.

28 May Year 19 Notes: Answer

In the classroom hideout, JungKook asks everyone what their dreams are because he has to write a paper about future hopes. SeokJin wants to become a good person, and YoonGi says it’s okay to have no dream. TaeHyung poses on a chair and says he’s going to be a superhero. HoSeok scolds him and adds that he wants to find his mom and live happily. JiMin asks him if he is unhappy now, and HoSeok pulls an exaggeratedly worried expression. “Is that how it works?” JiMin is flustered when HoSeok asks what his dream is and remembers that when he was in preschool he wanted to be president, but didn’t know what he wanted after that. Everyone looks at NamJoon, who shrugs and confesses that while he wants to say something nice, he doesn’t have a dream either and just wishes that his part-time job pays more. JungKook looks down at his assignment, divided into sections for “student” and “parent,” and wonders what he hopes to become. He can’t think of anything to write.

12 June Year 19 — The Sea Notes 1

YoonGi’s entry:

All seven boys cut school and decide to go to the sea. They have little money between them, so they must walk to the train station. As they leave, YoonGi almost bumps into JiMin and realizes that he is standing frozen with a trembling face. JiMin stares at a sign that reads “2.1km to Grass Flower Arboretum.” YoonGi flatly tells him that it’s too hot to go to the arboretum. He has an “instinctive feeling” that they should avoid it. He observes that JiMin walks away like a little kid, head bent and shoulders hunched.

JungKook’s entry:

The boys arrive at the beach. They hang around under a torn parasol until HoSeok holds up a discovery on his phone: a large rock that is supposed to grant your dream if you stand atop it and shout your dream out to the sea. TaeHyung encourages them to go. While they grumble in the heat on the long trek, JungKook reflects on how he had recently asked the others what their dreams were. (See 28 May Year 19.) None of them really have a dream to pursue.

YoonGi tells JungKook to stop biting his nails or else they’ll become like his. Then he asks JungKook what his dream is. Having never thought about it, JungKook doesn’t know. He hesitates and then asks what a dream is. HoSeok rattles off a few definitions from his phone. YoonGi questions, “How can something that you want to achieve most in your life and something that is unlikely to come true both be called a dream? … Don’t ever try to have a dream.” JungKook asks why. At his glance, YoonGi stops biting his nails and puts his hands in his pockets. “Because it’s tough having one.” JungKook is curious about why YoonGi bites his nails but doesn’t ask. He recalls that it has been a habit since his childhood to hurt himself. He remembers cutting his finger on a knife badly enough that his mom took him to the hospital, but she didn’t take care of him after they went home. His wound healed slowly because he kept pressing it; the pain helped him feel awake. Even now, he sometimes feels hollow.

TaeHyung asks how much longer they have to walk. HoSeok is puzzled, saying they should be close. They gaze around the empty, pebbled beach. JiMin sighs and reads aloud from an article on his phone. A resort will be built on this beach, and the construction company blew up the rock. They notice the cordoned off construction zone. They try to reassure each other to remain positive, but they all feel the disappointment of walking all that way for nothing. JungKook notices YoonGi biting his nails again and tries to stop him, but he is interrupted by a loud drilling noise. JungKook looks past him at the sea and all that remains of the dream-granting rock, the pebbles under their feet. “Is the world tough for you, too?” he asks, but YoonGi can’t hear him. JungKook screams again. “Do you want to give up on this world, too?” HoSeok and TaeHyung laugh at their mimed conversation. They all look out to the sea and shout their dreams. The drilling is so loud that they can’t hear each other. JungKook cannot even hear his own dream. When the noise stops, they cut off abruptly and laugh. SeokJin suggests that they take a photo. He sets the timer and runs to join their row, the sea behind them. They walk back to the train station. JungKook asks if he can keep the photo. SeokJin writes “June 12” on the back and gives it to him, telling him that his dream will come true. JungKook asks if SeokJin knows what he shouted to the sea, and SeokJin merely taps his shoulder and strides ahead.

BTS Universe Story : The Boy on the Threshold, ep.3

JungKook’s memory of the beach trip follows a similar structure to the scene in Notes 1, plus a notable addition. After they fail to find the dream-granting boulder, JungKook climbs up on the pier railing. He thinks: “I’ve always liked walking on the edge of walls or on top of lines. Focusing on centering my gravity means that I don’t really think of anything else, and the boundary—not quite a part of either place—always felt like where I should be.” Someone grabs his arm while he precariously balances. YoonGi tells him not to do that, and JungKook assures him that he won’t fall.

“YoonGi would often grab my arm when I walked on railings. The others would look after me, too, after seeing him do that. I liked their helping hands. It felt like they were telling me that I should go to them. That this wasn’t my place. Maybe their hands were why I walked on the railings.”

25 June Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Alone in the classroom hideout, SeokJin finds a plant by the window. He takes pictures with his phone but doesn’t think they capture what the human eye sees. He notices that “HoSeok’s plant” is scribbled on the floor beneath the pot and then realizes that the window sills, walls, and ceiling are covered with graffiti and drawings, messages left behind by the students who once passed through that room. He wonders if there were past teachers who used violence and endless tests or students like him who ratted out their friends to the principal. Since his father also attended that high school, SeokJin looks for his name on the walls and finds it with a phrase written underneath: “Everything started from here.”

Note: TaeHyung, JiMin, NamJoon, and YoonGi discover several other familiar names near Kim ChangJun (SeokJin’s father) on the classroom wall in TaeHyung’s 23 July Year 22 entry from 7’s album Notes and the extended version in Notes 2.

30 August Year 19 Notes: Her

JiMin plays in HoSeok’s shadow while he is on the phone, reflecting on how HoSeok has accompanied him on the two-hour walk home since the beginning of the school semester. JiMin eventually realized that HoSeok didn’t live in the same direction but never questioned him, simply hoping that their time walking together would stretch the day out a little longer. HoSeok finishes on the phone and chases after him while the cicadas sing and their ice creams melt. Suddenly, JiMin is afraid, wondering how many of these days are left.

20 March Year 20 Notes 1 (TH)

TaeHyung sneaks up on NamJoon in the hallway by their classroom hideout. He stops when he hears SeokJin’s voice inside, apparently informing the principal about how TaeHyung and YoonGi had ditched school and got in a fight over the past few days. SeokJin throws open the door, phone in hand, and looks flustered to see NamJoon standing there. TaeHyung hides in a corner and is shocked to hear NamJoon assure him, “It’s OK. There must’ve been a good reason.” HoSeok and JiMin find TaeHyung in the hallway, and HoSeok pulls him into the classroom. NamJoon beams at TaeHyung as though nothing strange has happened. Believing that NamJoon “must have his reasons” because he is more intelligent and mature, TaeHyung decides not to tell anyone about the conversation he overheard.

15 May Year 20 Notes 1 (NJ)

NamJoon visits the classroom hideout on his last day of school. Two weeks prior, his family decided that they needed to move due to complications with his father’s health and their overdue rent. NamJoon tries to write a message on a piece of paper. He scribbles “I must survive” before the pencil lead snaps. He crumples the paper and writes in the dust on the window instead.

“No farewell message would be enough to let the others know how I felt. At the same time, no farewell message was needed to make myself understood. ‘See you again.’ It was a wish, rather than a promise.”

Note: “I must survive” is a recurring message tied to NamJoon in the BU MVs. See also 17 December Year 21.

7 June Year 20 Notes: Persona

TaeHyung’s two month old puppy Dubu slips out of the leash and disappears while he is distracted on his phone. TaeHyung runs around the neighborhood looking for him, first angry at the puppy and then blaming himself. When Dubu returns on his own, TaeHyung is filled with the unfamiliar feeling that he is someone who can be relied on.

11 June Year 20 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.5 Everyone’s Place

In the classroom hideout, JungKook listens to YoonGi playing the piano. The sound of the music makes him feel as if YoonGi understands how he feels and is trying to console him. The Dean of Students forces the door open, demanding why they are there. He berates and slaps JungKook, knocking him to the floor. YoonGi steps between them and shoves the teacher’s shoulder. The dean warns him that he had better be prepared for the consequences of putting his hands on a teacher and then leaves. Despite his throbbing cheek, JungKook smiles because it is the first time someone has protected him, and the feeling of getting closer to YoonGi makes him giddy. For the next two weeks, YoonGi does not come to school.

25 June Year 20 Notes 1

JungKook’s entry:

JungKook tries to play the piano in the classroom hideout, unable to make it sound like YoonGi did. He reflects on the rumor that YoonGi was expelled after the events of 11 June and wonders if YoonGi would still be here playing the piano if JungKook had not been there that day when the teacher appeared.

YoonGi’s entry:

Breathing hard, YoonGi arrives at his bedroom, removes a half-burned piano key from an envelope in his desk drawer, and throws it into the trash can. He remembers a day four years ago when he returned to their burned down home and found a skeleton of the piano where his mother’s room used to stand. He noticed several piano keys on the ground and took one of them, wondering what note it was and how many times her fingers touched it. In the present, YoonGi thinks how unbearable living under his father’s rule is and recalls what happened that day: he is officially expelled from school. He picks up the piano key again and hurls it out the window.

“I couldn’t hear the piano key hit the ground. Now I’d never know what note it made. It’d never make a sound again. I’d never play the piano again.”

17 July Year 20 Notes 1 (SJ)

At the end of the last school day before summer vacation, SeokJin tries to leave quickly but is hailed by HoSeok and JiMin. No one knows that he was pressured by the principal and revealed their hideout, which led to JungKook and YoonGi being discovered (11 June) and the latter’s expulsion (25 June). HoSeok wishes SeokJin a good vacation and to keep in touch, but he can’t reply.

“My first day at this school crossed my mind as I passed through the school gate. We were all late and got punished. But we were together, so we could laugh together. I had ruined all those memories we shared.”

Note: Variations of the sentiment “we can laugh when we’re together” recur throughout BU.

15 September Year 20 Notes 1 (HS)

In the hospital emergency room, HoSeok wants to explain how JiMin had a seizure at the bus stop to his mother, Sim SeonMi. When the doctors wheel JiMin’s bed out, HoSeok begins to follow until SeonMi thanks him and touches his shoulder. He feels like she has drawn a line between them that he cannot cross. He falls to the floor, and when he looks up, JiMin’s bed is gone.

Note: The name of JiMin’s mother is specified in his BTS Universe Story arc, Stopped Time. JiMin’s 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1 reflects that he blacked out at the bus stop after seeing the window of the Grass Flower Arboretum shuttle bus open. His 12 August Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals the real cause of JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop: he sees the boy that he left behind at the arboretum warehouse on 6 April Year 11. Though the boy’s empty eyes no longer speak to JiMin, this chance encounter awakens his memories of that day.

28 September Year 20 Notes: Her and Smeraldo Books Twitter

JiMin, heavily medicated, has lost track of how long he has been back in the hospital. But he considers this a special day because he lies to the doctor for the first time about not remembering anything.

Note: He is lying about not remembering what triggered his seizure at the bus stop on 15 September and/or what happened at the Grass Flower Arboretum when he was a kid (see Notes 2 comments above). This lie is also referenced in his 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1.

30 September Year 20 Notes 1 (JK)

A teacher hits JungKook with an attendance book when he refuses to admit that he still visits the classroom hideout, reminding him of when YoonGi was beaten. Later, JungKook stands outside the room and imagines that the others are waiting for him on the other side. He opens the door to only find HoSeok, clearing out what remains of their belongings. HoSeok walks him out, and JungKook realizes that those days are gone and will never come again.

25 February Year 21 Notes: Her (HS)

HoSeok watches himself dance in the mirror. He has danced since he was around twelve and discovered an ecstasy that came from inside himself. Outside of the mirror, HoSeok is a person who collapses everywhere and takes medicine he doesn’t need, who smiles even when he hates it and isn’t happy. But when he dances, he truly becomes himself, casting away all that weighs him down and feeling that he can become happy.

2 May Year 21 Notes: Persona (JK)

Biking along the Yangjicheon riverbank, JungKook thinks about how his friends left him one by one and that no one at home or in the world smiles at him anymore. He stops in the shadows under a bridge. Nobody comes to this kind of ruined place, and maybe that is the reason no one comes to him either. He feels most comfortable alone in the complete darkness where no one will look for him and wants the moment to never end.

9 August Year 21 Notes: Persona (SJ)

SeokJin walks along a Los Angeles beach and photographs the ocean. It has been a year since he fled Songju and moved to his mother’s family’s home, where he grew up as a child. He doesn’t photograph people anymore and didn’t bring any photos from high school with him, afraid to remember who he was at that time or to wonder about how his friends are doing and whether they still think of him.

17 December Year 21 Notes 1 (NJ)

This lengthy entry details events that transpired since the autumn of Year 20 when NamJoon’s family moved to the village, framed by moments on 17 December itself as NamJoon leaves on his own. His family chooses this village because it has a nearby hospital for his ailing father and employers who will hire someone without a high school diploma. NamJoon serves as a delivery boy for an eatery, competing for work with the other local boys. They grow a strange sense of solidarity, and he privately dubs one of them “TaeHyung,” even though the boy’s discontent, outward behavior is more akin to YoonGi’s. (Quotation marks added to the name here for clarity.) Competition slackens when snow falls in winter. NamJoon and “TaeHyung” are the only ones poor enough to risk the road up to the mountain town’s rest area when orders are phoned to the village below. On an afternoon forecast to have heavy snowfall, the restaurant owner dismisses “TaeHyung” due to his bruised face and gives the deliveries to NamJoon. The old delivery scooter fishtails on NamJoon’s third trip down the mountain, throwing him off. More anxious about the scratched scooter than his cut ankle and aching body, NamJoon finally gets it to restart and returns to the eatery. “TaeHyung,” who has been hanging around this whole time, approaches and asks for a favor. Before he can answer, NamJoon receives a call from his mother relaying that his father went outside alone and fell, requiring a trip to the hospital. NamJoon understands that his father was only trying to keep his dignity but is still frustrated because he can’t earn any more much-needed money this day. He hands “TaeHyung” the keys and leaves to take his father to the hospital.

The next day, NamJoon learns that “TaeHyung” was in a fatal accident during one of the deliveries up the mountain. The police officer blames him for being a poor driver and not wearing a helmet. NamJoon does not speak up that he has never seen the helmet the owner now has placed out on the counter. He visits the scene of the accident, thinking that the white outline on the road could be his if he was the one to make the next delivery—just as it could be his family mourning in the village instead of “TaeHyung’s” mother. On a later trip carrying his father home from the bus stop, NamJoon pretends not to hear his father’s frail voice over the noise of barking dogs. A week after that, NamJoon is making steady deliveries up the mountain. During what is ultimately his last delivery, he speaks with a stranger at the rest area, who cautions him to take care. “Do you know what’s really dangerous? Calcium chloride and wet leaves, not the snow itself,” the stranger blurts as NamJoon departs. NamJoon drives carefully back, not looking at the scene of the accident. This is not out of safety, as he tries to convince himself, but guilt: guilt for surviving, for his relief of being the one alive, for not defending “TaeHyung’s” driving skills. He also wonders if he is “a hypocrite pretending to have a guilty conscience.” Because he scattered wet leaves and sprinkled calcium chloride to prevent the road from icing over where he fell that afternoon, believing that he would be making the next delivery. If he did not do both those things, would “TaeHyung” be alive?

Mind and body numb, NamJoon makes it home from the delivery detached from the world around him. The barking dogs snap him out of the daze, and he remembers his father’s words that he pretended not to hear and dwelled on daily despite trying not to think about them: “Go, NamJoon. You must survive.” The next morning (17 December), NamJoon sneaks away to the bus stop. He is running away from his family’s misfortunes, from his own resignation to his fate, from poverty. The bus is scheduled to arrive in Songju in a few hours—the city he left with no notice and is returning to once more with the same. NamJoon wonders if his old friends still live there and how they are doing. On the frosted window, he writes with his finger: “I must survive.”

Note: The village boy’s real name is JongHun according to NamJoon’s 12 June Year 22 entry in Notes 2, which also reveals that he visited JongHun’s home to give his condolences before he left town.

1 February Year 22 Notes: 7 (SJ)

Summoned by his father without explanation, SeokJin flies back to Korea from Los Angeles. Although he has addresses in both LA and Songju, neither place feels like his home.

———————————————————

Update Log

Posted May 5, 2021

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pardy-dardy · 3 years

Text

some thoughts on Kris

DELTARUNE SPOILERS DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVENT CAUGHT UP YET!!!

TLDR: Kris is a lonely second-child who has lived in the shadow of their brother their entire life, causing them to act out on occasion to get attention. They somehow gain the power to create the Dark Worlds (which allows them to become as important and loved as they feel they should be), alongside the curse of us, the “Player,” which can influence their decision-making to a certain extent.

Depending on how you, the “Player”, choose to proceed, you are either working against Kris’ natural inclination toward mischief and cold-heartedness (pacifist), or working with and actively feeding it (genocide thru the manipulation of others).

It’s not hard to see that Kris has some problems. When playing thru Deltarune, it’s told to us that Kris is known to pull some pretty mean-spirited pranks on folks (eggnog/mayonnaise swap, for instance). Some of the dialogue options given to us are mean as shit as well, and I have a feeling that if the “Player” wasn’t there to push them toward better choices, they’d be meaner than Susie, easily. Also, they carry a fucking knife with them everywhere, and Chapter straight up starts out with a fake-out slasher scene. C’mon now.

But they’re not all evil! After all, they’re shown to deeply care for their brother (going as far as googling when Asriel will be home on summer break), as they seem to be one of the few people in their life who treated them like someone normal. I would not doubt it being the situation that Kris was given the “oh, you’re Asriel’s sibling, right?” treatment all their life.

They love Asriel so much that I’d bet you Ralsei is a manifestation of the goodness he impressed upon them. After all, Ralsei mysteriously isn’t affected by the same worldly rules as other Darkners (with the turning to stone thing), and physically appears just like the Boss Monsters we know from Undertale. Ralsei is always pushing Kris toward the path of light if he can, and I’d say that’s a reflection of the love they have for their absent brother.

In light of their parents’ messy-sounding divorce, a town full of people entirely physically unlike them (right up to the fact that they cannot use magic while everyone else seems to be able to), a natural difficulty making friends, and a massive hole in their heart where Asriel used to be, Kris has become a bitter, cold teen who finds themself lapsing into their own imagination just to escape their melancholy reality.

Somehow, this imagination turns into real, tangible power. Kris finds out one day that the worlds they create are just as real as anything else, and that they can be brought into existence anywhere they please, so long as they strike the earth with their knife. In these worlds, Kris is able to live the ultimate escapist fantasy-- they are the one true protagonist, the unequivocal hero of every story they would ever want to tell (no matter how nasty their actions during said story). They are important, they are at the center of it all, and they will save every world they create without fail.

And you know what? Everyone else who is able to be pulled into Kris’ Dark Worlds agrees! Being a hero and saving a crazy, wacky world is far better than the bitter realities they live with. Berdly says it, Noelle says it, Susie says it-- and though Kris doesn’t appear to say anything, it’s pretty apparent that they agree (dialogue options point toward Kris being in the same boat). The only person who doesn’t agree at all is Ralsei, and that’s because he understand something more about the nature of the Dark Worlds than we, the “Players”, do (but perhaps not Kris).

But by the end of Chapter 2, we are given in-game confirmation that it’s Kris who is making the fountains. Why would they do this, given that there’s a good chance they know everything Ralsei seems to know?

It’s as I said-- Kris wants to make their fantasy real, however twisted that might be. They get the attention they feel they deserve, and as we play through the story, Kris also realizes that they can make friends that way, too. It becomes the strongest social tool they have, to a point where if you go Pacifist, you even befriend BERDLY of all people. And, as icing on the cake, everyone agrees with Kris that the Dark Worlds are a better alternative to the real world. They are going to continue the cycle as both creator and savior at the very least, so that every day can scratch that psychological/emotional itch for them.

Even if you go the new Genocide Path, the “Player” validates and feeds the nastier part of Kris’ nature. It, again, makes sense that Kris would want to floor the world in Darkness. They can continue to act out their nasty fantasies, hurting who they please and turning worlds to ruin because in the end, they will be the master of the world.

And when they forcefully rip us from their body, Kris is reminding us of who is ultimately in control. No matter what we do, what direction we help push Kris toward, it all feeds into their end goal.

In the Pacifist route, it can be interpreted as something they have to do, something they do in opposition to the “Player” so that they can keep feeling important. Hence why they let us back into their body once they’ve done the deed, instead of leaving us out to dry.

In the Genocide route, it can be interpreted as them asserting dominance over us, since we clearly also want more worlds to decimate. Even though we’re willing to aid them in their plan, they want us to know, again, who ultimately decides what happens. Again, they let us back into their body once they’re done (and can make sure that there’s no risk of interference) to show that we’re in on it together, but that they see us as a variable they can’t fully trust.

God, this story is getting so fucking interesting. Toby Fox you god damn fuck head let me pay you for these chapters already bastard dog

#deltarune #undertale #kris #ralsei #this fucking dog keeps making such good stories and it amps my brain into fucking overdrive every single time

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Dani and Jamie first argument. Maybe the first time one of them sleeps on the couch (and doesn't sleep at all)

It’s such a stupid fight, Jamie thinks even as they’re having it. Such a stupid argument, she doesn’t quite know what kicked it off. Months and months on the road with Dani, months and months of learning all the little particulars of her--taste in music, dislike for repetitive tapping sounds, unpredictable sense of humor, awful propensity for replicating in private the accent of whatever state they’ve landed in today--and never once did they argue. Not really. She was beginning to think they never would--that Dani’s peculiar burden, her own peculiar resistance to logic, would keep them both safe from that which befalls all couples.

Silly. Silly to imagine, with the lovesick eyes of that honeymoon stage, and sillier now. The Dani she’d been met with at the start had been alternately strange and sad, hopeful and haunted, but she’d always been new. There’s a certain sweet charm that comes with novelty, making even the most irritating traits shine. Everything can be wiped clean with a kiss, when it’s new, or with wandering hands, or with a well-timed joke.

But months fade into more, and before she knows it, there’s nearly a year behind them. A year of them. A year of Dani’s smile growing stronger, of Dani’s hands shaking less, of her own belief that this is...good. Better than she could have imagined, letting her guard down. Better than anything she’s ever been granted in her life.

And now:

Now a fight. Stupid. Small. Not like the closest they’ve come before now--Dani rolling her eyes at Jamie’s inability to make a bed, Jamie scoffing over Dani’s oddball methods of sorting laundry--but...stupid, nonetheless. She’d been tired. She’d snipped. Dani, unexpectedly, had snipped back.

And suddenly, they were arguing. Genuinely, for the first time, arguing--about Jamie’s tendency to shut doors, about Dani’s irreparable need to feign a smile. Both of them spotting that urge in the other which is so easily reflected in a mirror: to fix at all costs. To close off paths to darkness. To make it better, even if it means doing it in silence, or doing it alone.

Dani says, “If you’re going to keep walking away in the middle of a conversation--”

Jamie says, “Well, it’s not like you’re talking--”

It’s stupid. It’s silly. It shouldn’t be happening at all. Tired, she thinks. Tired, and it’s been raining for days, and the shop hasn’t been pulling the customers they’d expected this quarter. Dani has been quieter lately, it’s true, though not the way she’d been those first few weeks. Not the quiet of miserable baggage. Not the simple weariness of looking into the jungle for the eyes of a beast.

Jamie can understand that. Jamie’s gotten good already at searching out those moments, at taking Dani’s hand--or leaving her to her peace--as needed.

This, the normal of it all. This, she isn’t ready for. She’s never had a normal relationship, exactly; there had been bone shards and broken promises in the last one, and secrets tucked carefully away, and smiles that never met bright eyes. There had been a lot to unpack, to offer up on the altar of her own dignity. But normalcy? The normal edge of a woman’s voice when she’s just too tired to say the right thing? The normal cut of her own words when she’s just too off to play diplomat in response?

It’s new, and it’s weird, and it sits badly in her chest when Dani throws up her hands and says, “This isn’t getting us anywhere. I need a minute.”

She watches her stalk away, down the hall to the bedroom. Dani doesn’t slam the door. It almost makes it harder; if she’d done that, the intention behind the act would be clear, impossible to miss. If she’d done that, Jamie could piece it together: a shut door means keep out, means stay away, means don’t follow.

The Dani who wakes from shuddering nightmares always wants her close.

The Dani who’d just shaken her head in exasperation? She can’t be sure.

A part of her wonders if this isn’t all her fault--if it’s the mark of a bad day she should have seen coming. She’s better about this, normally. She’s better at all of this. The woman who had just snipped and sliced, whose smile had been bitter-edged, isn’t unrecognizable; she’d known her so well from a year-old mirror. The woman who had threatened violence at every irritation. The woman who had grown thorns to prevent her own puncture wounds. Not a woman she’s ever been with Dani, really, but do these shadow parts of a self ever die? Has she tricked herself--tricked them both--into believing Dani’s love was enough to bury thirty years of habit in the ground?

Dani hasn’t shut the door, but she hasn’t come slinking back out with apology in her voice, either. And maybe that’s as it should be. Maybe that’s right. Hadn’t it been Jamie who had started it? She can’t be sure--there’s a strange fog around the conversation, an adrenaline-pumping, threat-level-high intoxication eating away at the memory already. Anger has a way of banishing good sense, and all detail along with it. Maybe she hadn’t started it, but she sure hadn’t let it die with a single snide remark.

And now, she thinks, sitting on the edge of the couch with a spreading unease, Dani can see. For good, for real, the bits of her she’d managed to hide away for a year. Dani can see the part of her she’d tried so hard to keep leashed since a meltdown in a rose garden.

Dani can see it, and doesn’t Dani carry enough? Isn’t Dani tired enough, without this added burden of someone else’s anger?

It’s not...peaceful. It’s rage. She shakes her head, presses a hand to her mouth, remembering the shiver in Dani’s voice. And maybe this hadn’t been rage, exactly--neither of them yelling, neither throwing things or landing harsh blows--but it hadn’t been peace, either. It leaves a sour taste in her mouth, a tremble in her legs, how little like them the evening has felt.

The door is open, but she can’t hear Dani moving around. Maybe she’s gone to bed. Maybe she’s decided enough is enough for one night.

All right. It’s one night. What’s one night? There will be others--probably. Never any certainty to a thing like that, but she’s as near to sure as she can be. There will be other nights, and they’ll talk it through, but...not now. Not with Dani having left her here. Not with Dani sitting silent in the other room, probably letting her own anger twist around her like a shroud.

The couch isn’t so bad. The knit blanket is too light for the spring chill, maybe, and the throw pillow is too small beneath her head, but she’s had worse. Years on a prison cot, for one. In comparison, this couch is paradise.

A quiet paradise.

A quiet, miserable paradise.

She exhales, reaching to switch off the lamp. One night. Admittedly, sleeping alone for the first time in a year feels wrong--incredible, how quickly she’s come to rely on the pressure of Dani’s arm around her middle, the soft brush of Dani’s breath against her shoulder--but she had started it. She’s almost certain now. She’d started it, and Dani had rightly left her to think on her mistake. Dani had rightly walked away and left her to mull it all over.

It works. It has always worked. Worked just fine back then, leaving a shadowed greenhouse for a few days to get her head on straight. Maybe Dani’s right about that tendency to shut doors, to lick her wounds in private. Maybe Dani’s right that it’s a habit too ingrown to break.

Probably.

She’s too aware of everything--the breeze through the cracked window, the hum of the refrigerator, each creak-and-settle of the walls around her--in the dark. Too aware of how small she feels, stretched out beneath a thin blanket, her hands folded awkwardly on her stomach. Too aware of the way Dani had thrown up her hands, headed back down the hall, left her to pace the cage of her own stupid anger alone.

What was she even so upset about? That Dani had...what? Looked at her askance? Shaken her head? Not quite modulated her tone, and come out sounding as though the business taking a bit of a dip is Jamie’s fault? Dani hadn’t meant it like that. She’s sure neither of them had really meant any of it like it had come out--that, sometimes, words and tone get all muddied up and blow holes in things that ought to be strong enough to withstand any attack. Hadn’t they been over it and over it in therapy? That she needs to stop and breathe and calculate the intent, not the impact, of a person’s behavior?

Intent: mild irritation. A bad mood. Offense taken and dealt without really looking.

Impact: Dani in the bedroom. Her on the couch. Sleeping apart for the first time since leaving Bly.

She closes her eyes. Tries to breathe. Tries to remember what it was like sleeping alone, all those months ago. Tries to remember how naturally it had come, stepping back from the others, going home to her own flat.

That woman feels even further away than the one who’d used anger as armor. That woman feels too far to reach.

“What are you doing?”

She jumps. Dani is standing in the hall, backlit by the bedroom light. Her expression is washed out, unreadable.

“Sleeping,” Jamie says in a voice not quite calm, not quite stable. Dani makes a thin noise.

“On the couch?”

“You--” She sits up, clutching the blanket for support. “You said you needed space.”

“I said...” Dani takes a step nearer, and another. Her brows are drawn, Jamie can see now, her arms wrapped around herself as though for warmth. “I said I needed a minute.”

“Right.” This doesn’t feel like them. This feels even less like them than the argument had--because that, at least, had been petty and dumb. This feels too much like open water, uncharted, unexpectedly deep. “Wanted to respect that.”

“By sleeping on the couch.” Dani has stopped, still hugging herself, just out of reach. Jamie gropes up for the lamp, switching it on without looking.

“Well...yeah. You said--”

“A minute, Jamie.” Is it her imagination, or is Dani trying not to smile? “You thought a minute meant the whole night?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is suddenly tight. Dani is looking at her, not with irritation, not with a fed-up grimace, but with a burgeoning smile.

“Haven’t you ever had a weird spat with a girlfriend before?”

Not trusting herself to speak, Jamie shakes her head. Not one like you. Not one carrying too much to manage. Not one I’ve fallen in--

“Well--neither have I, I guess.” Dani is almost grinning now, though there’s something jumpy about her eyes. Something like she’s trying, even now, to hide behind old habits. “That was...that was weird, right?”

“It was,” says Jamie carefully. She’s too off-kilter to read between the lines of Dani’s rictus grin. Too unbalanced to see what Dani is really trying to ask.

“It was weird,” Dani repeats, as if trying to convince herself. “And weird happens. Weird doesn’t mean...weird doesn’t mean we...”

Ah. There it is. She may have lain out here staring at the ceiling, parsing out her own guilt, but Dani was in there doing something worse. Dani was in that bedroom trying to determine how much of that fight was even her--and how much, maybe, belonged to a particularly weighty ghost.

She unfolds from the couch slowly, not sure if Dani is quite ready to be touched. She’s rocking a little, Jamie can see now, back and forth on her heels. Like she’s trying desperately to hold together. Like she’s coming ever-closer to unwinding.

“Fights happen,” Jamie says. “Dumb ones, more’n most. I’m sorry for starting it.”

“You didn’t,” Dani says. “Did you?”

Her grin is loosening a little, the struts falling out along the way. In a minute, the whole thing is going to come down, and the expression waiting beneath will--Jamie suspects--look an awful lot like a woman freshly haunted.

“I don’t know,” she says honestly, taking a hesitant step closer. “Does it matter? Sorry either way.”

“Me too,” Dani says, her voice small. “It was a--a bad day.”

“Yeah.” Her fingers are twitching at her sides, itching to reach out. Dani glances from her face to her hand, her smile flickering at last.

“Can you, um. Can you come to bed anyway? Even if it’s not okay. Even if we’re--”

“We’re okay,” Jamie says, and knows it. Stupid, petty arguments full of bitter, petty words mean so little when stacked up to how Dani makes her feel. Even on bad nights, Dani makes her feel safer than anyone she’s ever known.

She hopes Dani can say the same. Is determined, if Dani can’t yet, to make sure she leaves that exact legacy on Dani’s life. Safe. Secure. Loved.

Dani is reaching out, pulling her close, her breath fast and sharp. “Can we make it a rule?” she asks into Jamie’s shoulder, her forehead pressing down hard.

“What? Never go to bed angry?”

“Never go to bed apart.” With every stroke of Jamie’s hand across her hair, she seems to settle a little more. Seems to breathe a little easier. “You can be angry, I can’t--we can’t always help that. But come to bed anyway. Kiss me goodnight anyway. Can we make that promise?”

She sounds uncertain, and Jamie knows she’s remembering a final conversation with another person she’d loved. A last she hadn’t known was such until it was too late to take back. There hadn’t been room for forgiveness there, or apology, or a goodnight kiss.

“Promise,” Jamie says, and knows it’s one she’ll keep faithfully to the end. However long they get. However much time. If they fight once a year or once a month, it won’t matter. Never go to bed apart. That’s doable. It’s the least she can do.

“Does this mean,” Dani asks, voice muffled, “we’re official now?”

“Officially what?”

Dani shrugs one shoulder. She seems unwilling to remove her face from Jamie’s shoulder, to pull free of Jamie’s embrace. “I dunno. Isn’t this what real couples do? Argue?”

“Maybe.” She’s not sure either of them is standing on firm enough ground to say what real couples do, or don’t do, or shouldn’t do. She’s not sure relationships have enough ground rules to be drawn out and catalogued as such.

What she is sure of is how Dani makes her feel. That she has, over the past months, been stepping closer and closer to a line. That she will, soon enough, tip over it into something that looks an awful lot like always.

She could say it now. It might soothe Dani, to hear the words for the first time. But it wouldn’t feel quite right. Wouldn’t be quite what Dani deserves. It can wait.

“I don’t think that part matters,” she says instead. “The arguing. I think the part that counts is what comes after.”

“Where I can’t stand five more minutes without you hugging me?” Dani sounds shaky, embarrassed. Jamie grips her a little tighter.

“That even when you want to throttle me, you still want me in that bed more.”

That, she thinks, is the mark of a relationship. Of their relationship, at least. Not the bickering. Not the silliness or the pettiness. The desire to make it right again as soon as it’s over.

“Don’t like fighting with you,” Dani says. Jamie gives her a gentle shake.

“I do hear it improves the sex.”

“I like the sex,” Dani says, almost sullenly, and Jamie laughs.

“Well then. No reason to change things, is there?”

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #this week has been way too long and I've been way too tired to do much proper writing #but this sort of thing has been requested more than a few times #so I figured why not

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akitokihojo · 3 years

Text

Monster - Chapter 15

chapter index

..... sorry guys

She’d been having strange, ominous dreams for days now. Dreams that were so vague, Kagome could barely describe them to Inuyasha once she’d come out of it. He’d said she seemed uncomfortable in her sleep, woke her up once or twice to see if she was having a nightmare, but the moment Kagome roused, it was like the pressing vision faded. She recalled bits and pieces, but she couldn’t remember the emotion present, she couldn’t remember what was happening, and she wasn’t even sure if she knew what was going on while in the dream to begin with.

All she could remember was red.

Everything was in red.

Her hands were red.

The sky was red.

The world was red.

And, waking up to see natural colors, to see the light shade of Inuyasha’s tied back hair, to see his golden eyes reflected with the humble flames of their midnight fire was almost like a shock.

She’d blink, she’d take deep breaths that she wasn’t able to while captured by the vivid nightmare, and after just a few moments, Kagome would come down and forget anything that wasn’t red. She was fine. She’d fall back asleep just fine, and unless she was dragged right back into the vision - which had only occurred once - she’d rest well, thereafter.

Kagome had reduced it to nothing more than an odd string of subconscious play. They were dreams without a meaning. Only a couple of times had they really stolen any energy from her, but other than that, Kagome dismissed what she couldn’t remember and apologized for worrying Inuyasha.

The hanyou chose a high tree branch to perch in one night. Something was off, he could physically feel it, but there was nothing in the air that could guide him to what stung at his instincts. He’d covered Kagome in his crimson robe, and she’d been curled up on her bag as a makeshift pillow, undisturbed and about as comfortable as she could get. Not a single line creased her brow, and her lips were relaxed as she slept through the night, the hoot of owls, the chirp of crickets, and the crack of burning logs the only sounds that stood the potential of waking her. But still, Inuyasha couldn’t shake this feeling. Something was wrong.

There was a sharp twinge of dread hitting his chest, so he stood from his seat, trying to get a better eye over the tops of trees to hopefully spot something. Nothing. There was a scent, but he couldn’t place it. There wasn’t noise to back it up. He heard no yelling, no conversation, no roars, or calls, or even the crack of twigs being broken from the weight of bodies stepping over them. In fact, with this sensation of apprehensiveness hanging over him, the silence was only making it worse.

Below him, there was a small shuffle from Kagome and immediately his eyes fell down to her. She’d merely readjusted herself, laying more on her back now than her side. Her cheek hit her shoulder, one arm was at her hip, and the other rested over her stomach - his robe only managing to cover her belly and down now. Taking a moment to observe her carefully, he gathered the steady rise and fall of her chest. Everything seemed to be as it should. She was fine. So, steadily, his attention shifted back out to the horizon of the forest they dwelled in.

That aroma. He knew it. It was coming closer, and the nearer it grew, the more powerful it became. At this point, it was all a matter of patience. With the direction his body faced, the scent was coming from his right. It smelled of the woodlands and an extremely subtle campfire that he could have easily dismissed as his own immediate surroundings. The only thing that tipped him off was the staleness of the fragrance. It was old, it was laced with an abundance of sweat, and just as he caught the startling odor of that monster appear, the metallic smell of blood singed at his nose.

Kagome opened her eyes, feeling her feet on the hard, packed dirt of the forest. There were whispers around her, but she couldn’t tell what direction they were coming from, feeling incoherent, even dizzy where she stood. She stared at the setting, again shrouded in a haze of red, but everything was so blurry. No matter how many times she blinked, nothing would focus. The world was spinning around her, growing deeper in shade, bringing Kagome to feel nauseous and slap the heels of her hands around her temples to silence the blaring headache that slammed into her out of nowhere.

Her feet stumbled backward, unable to keep her footing, not knowing left from right, up from down, and her back hit the rough bark of a large tree, scraping as she inadvertently slid down to a squat. That was where she was safe from falling, safe to keep her eyes squeezed shut.

Where was she? This time, she was in her own body, she could tell. With a little wiggle of her ankle in her boot, Kagome felt the shape of her father’s blade rub against her, she felt the top beneath her shirt that kept her chest secure with each heavy inhale that pressed her ribs outward, she heard her own voice as she grunted shakily from the bile that threatened her esophagus. Why? What had she done? Where was Inuyasha? Where was she?

The whispers were beginning to reach her ears more clearly now. Kagome could feel the nausea gradually passing. Her fingers still trembled, but they were steadying little-by-little with each focused breath she exhaled. Again, she blinked her eyes open, noticing that now her surroundings were more centered. But, why, why was everything red again?

It felt like looking through stained glass. Every direction she turned was hued all the same. No greens, no browns, no blues, or violets, but the shadows of the night still remained black, terrifying, menacing in this particular environment.

The voices were no longer whispers. They were clear. Two women. From somewhere behind her. Kagome pushed herself from the tree, appreciative to have her own mobility this time around. She moved carefully, watching her step, walking as lightly as possible so as not to give her position away.

“Don’t take me back to him.” One said demandingly. The voice was deep, weighted, muttered between alarming breaths. “I don’t want to die in his arms.”

“I only need your blood. While it’s warm.” This voice was stable, somber.

“Don’t come near me!”

“Look, I didn’t want to do this! I had no choice! I’m telling you he didn’t request for your body; he just wants your blood!”

“For what!?”

“Proof!”

“No!” She sobbed. Kagome recognized that waver, that desperation. She’d known it all along, but had been too in denial to accept that this may be a possibility. Kikyo.

It was Kikyo.

Heedless with her movements now, Kagome rushed through the trees to close the distance, physically stopped by a forcefield that felt to grasp her and hold her captive as soon as she turned the corner and caught sight of the actual scene. It felt as if invisible vines had wrapped around her body, gluing her arms to her sides, immobilizing her and wrapping around her mouth so she couldn’t make a sound - forced to watch but not allowed to interact.

Kikyo was on the floor, trying to sit up against the trunk of a tree, bleeding profusely from her shoulder and chest, covered in sweat and crimson and tears. Her large, beige blouse was sullied horribly, drenched, clinging to her thin frame as if to emphasize her life-threatening wounds.

“Kikyo, I have to! He’ll kill me if I don’t!” She was a tall woman. Beautiful. But, her eyes radiated fear. Her skin was peached, complimented by the moonlight, her short, brown hair tied half up, though strands had escaped to fall down by her cheeks in their charade. Her lips had been painted with a dark rouge, faded but stained.

“I’m not going to survive this! Is that not enough!?”

Kagome tried to scream, to fight, to let this woman know she had a new opponent to take on, to let Kikyo know help was here and she’d be okay, but she couldn’t do a thing. This felt like more than restraints now. She felt like she was under a spell. Or, that maybe she wasn’t even actually there, merely watching on through a red-tinted window. Neither of them had acknowledged her loud footsteps approaching before she’d been caught, neither of them had turned to see her as she ran into the narrow clearing. Even if she was being held at bay right now, the enemy should have at least noticed her.

Quickly, she’d deduced that this was Kikyo’s dark magic at play. And, for the first time, she wished she knew at least a little so that she could subdue the opposite conjurer’s and stand a chance at saving her.

“It’s not! I’m sorry! You know him as well as I do, you know it isn’t enough for him!”

“You’re his creation! You’re practically his child! Don’t act like you pity me! That only makes you appear more vile!”

“You think I care how vile I look right now!?” The enemy snapped, screaming brokenly. “I had no choice, Kikyo! He’s got a little girl in captivity! If I die, what chance does she stand!? I am the only thing protecting her right now, so if it’s between you and me, I choose me! Do not mistake my obedience as admiration for that monster! I hate him! I loathe him! Naraku is the bane of my existence, and I wholeheartedly wished for you to kill him! He knew you were weak, though! He made the call! He sent me alone, because he knew with that little girl’s well being on the line, I wouldn’t come back without my objective complete!

“I do pity you, conjurer. You deserved better. And, I’m sorry I had to do this. Now, I’ll ask again: May I take your blood while it is still warm? Or, must I force it?”

“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him. I hate - I hate him.” Kikyo had shattered. Her strong demeanor crumbled into little pieces on the earth, her blood slowly beginning to pool at her seat. The powerful confession shifted to one of saddened pleads, and she wept. She trembled and she wept. “I - I hate him. I hate… I hate…”

The demon respectfully kneeled down, taking the presumably white feather from the bun in her hair and bowing her head an inch. “I am sorry.”

“You promise not to take my body?”

“I swear to you, I will leave it here.”

“You won’t tell him where you left me?”

“If he asks, I will have no choice but to say. But, knowing Naraku, he won’t have the courage to face you. Dead or alive.”

“This is the end?”

“Unlike me, you are free now, Kikyo. Be free.”

“Take my blood. See this through. Protect the girl.”

The woman dipped her feather in the gaping wound of Kikyo’s shoulder, dousing the ends in the thick liquid that seeped out at an unforgiving rate.

“Go.” Kikyo ordered. “I wish to at least be in peace.”

Without another word, the demon nodded, rising to her feet. She didn’t bother to brush the dirt from her black dress before using her powers to create a large feather to fly off on, a powerful gust of wind taking the woman up into the sky to disappear over the treetops.

Within seconds, the world was back to normal. The stained glass had been smashed, and Kagome was looking at the setting in the normal hues their luna provided. The vines had released her so aggressively that she was nearly dropped to the floor, stumbling on her feet and to her butt as she failed to catch herself. But, she wasn’t thrusted back into the reality she’d expected to be. This wasn’t a dream. Ahead of her sat a crumpled Kikyo, trying to hold herself up as she grew weaker and weaker, more and more pale, pained, melancholic, and destroyed.

Scrambling, Kagome crawled as far as she could before she forced herself to her feet to hurry over to the conjurer. Her emotions were all over the place, like she didn’t know what to feel first, if anything at all. Panicked, horrified, angry, anxious, helpless, and they all got in the way of her nonexistent action plan.

“Wh-what? What?” Was all Kagome could stammer. Was she really here? Was this really happening? “Kikyo, you’re… what happened? I don’t -“

“I’m sorry.” Kikyo cried, breathing erratically in the hopes to swallow her own fear. “I couldn’t fight anymore. I just couldn’t fight anymore.”

“Where are you hurt!? What happened!?” Kagome frantically implored, trying to be gentle at first. It was too difficult to see in the night, and there was an awful amount of blood that made it impossible to avoid. It was terrifying, but with a swallow that Kagome forced down her throat, she grabbed Kikyo’s shirt and ripped the buttons apart, looking for the wounds to see what she could do.

The gashes were massive in comparison to her frame. They stretched from her right shoulder to the center of her chest, wide, like cracks in a carefully sculpted clay pot that could no longer contain the contents inside. It brought Kagome to gasp so horridly she choked, coughed, quaked with trepidation.

“I couldn’t fight anymore.” Kikyo repeatedly sullenly. “I’m so sorry, Kagome.”

“You’d been trying to get my attention.” Kagome said in realization, her voice low, broken, her brown eyes never leaving the large wound on Kikyo’s chest. “You needed my help.”

“No, you were too far. I had to find myself closer.”

“You needed me. You were trying - and - and I - you needed my help.” Kagome began to cry, the tears burning at her eyes as they fell to mix with the blood.

“There was no saving me.”

“I could have done - you needed me.”

“I needed you to heed my warning.”

“What - what warning?”

Kikyo took her stained hand, mustering as much energy as she could to softly brush Kagome’s cheek and pull her attention away from the ghastly wound. “That I’m out of picture now. That the responsibility is yours.”

“No.” Kagome’s bottom lip quivered as the words penetrated her mind. She didn’t want to allow them to ring with validity. This wasn’t reality. “No. No, no, no. That’s not true.” She shook her head, softly pressing on the worst portion of the wound and gradually applying more pressure. Kikyo grunted loudly from the pain it added, but didn’t move to stop Kagome as she tried to halt the bleeding. “I can still save you! Inuyasha - he can - I’ll go get Inuyasha! I’ll have him bring my bag so we can patch you up! We’ll take you to a healer! You’re still here, Kikyo! You can still live!”

“Kagome!” She cried. “It’s over! You know as well as I that there is no closing up this wound! I’ve lost too much blood as it is! Please! Just -“ Her voice died down some, gurgled slightly as she coughed and blood rose out of the corner of her mouth.

Kagome moved to sit her up some so she wouldn’t choke on it, putting all of her muscle into pulling Kikyo into her arms to support her body weight.

“I am not afraid of death.” Kikyo whispered as the blood trickled from her lips. “I’ve been dead for years as it is. I don’t have to run anymore. I don’t have to hide or - or fight. I’m tired, I’m so tired. Naraku cannot haunt me anymore if I die.” She smiled. And, Kagome clung to her tighter, trying to stifle her sobs.

“Yeah,” Kikyo breathed, almost happily. “He can’t haunt me anymore. He didn’t win. He merely released me.”

“I’m sorry.” Kagome wept, losing the battle against herself. “If I had figured it out sooner -“

“No, Kagome. I wasn’t asking for help. I needed you to - I needed you to know. I wasn’t running to you to seek your assistance. I showed you bits and pieces only to test how far I still was. It was like a map that guided me your way. I needed to show you, myself. I’ve done all I can. The rest - the rest is on you. And, I truly believe you are capable.”

“I can - I can go get Inuyasha.” Kagome offered again, fruitlessly. It felt wrong to give up, it felt wrong to accept this fate, but she could feel in her gut, in her heart, in her brain that there was nothing she could actually do to fix this. To save her.

“Please, no.” Kikyo breathed. “I don’t want to die alone. If it’s not too much to ask, stay with me. Stay with me, Kagome. Speak of beautiful things.”

“Okay.” Kagome agreed, hugging the conjurer a little closer. She tried to stabilize her breathing, but her heart was breaking. She shook and she gasped, sobbing over Kikyo, but no matter what, she was going to tell her everything wonderful in this world that she’d seen. Everything that had nothing to do with Naraku. Kikyo wouldn’t end her life with that horrible creature tainting her final thoughts, her final breath, the final beat of her heart. Kikyo was going to leave this realm in serenity. “I-I’ve never seen so many flowers as I have since leaving home. Most of the flowers in my area are weeds, or dandelions. Some roses, maybe. Tulips are so pretty. And, I really, really love night flowers. The ones that bloom under the moon. I - I don’t know what they’re called.”

Kikyo smiled, unbothered by the pause Kagome had to take to breath, to calm herself, to allow tears to fall so they didn’t hinder her sight. She reached up, carefully stroking tears from Kagome’s cheeks, apologetic for the blood she stained her skin with in its place.

“A few days ago, I saw a bear cub for the first time. It was so cute, but I think that’s the most scared I’ve ever seen Inuyasha.” Kagome giggled wetly. “Where there’s a cub, there’s a mama. He backed off the trail so fast, Kikyo.”

Even the dying conjurer laughed. “You and he.” She spoke, her voice raspy and weak. “Your chemistry is strong. You make a good team. I was entirely wrong.”

“I love him. And, I’m really glad I didn’t listen to you.” Kagome cried, her smile wavering.

“If that’s the case, then so am I.” She wept. “Not all love is bad.”

“No.” Kagome shook her head, searching for anything she could speak of to bring Kikyo’s smile back. “Kaede. Kaede, she’s - she’s incredible.”

“My sister?” Kikyo asked, her eyes large and hopeful, brimming with tears that streamed down her face.

With a nod, she continued. “She’s headstrong, and brilliant, and a quick thinker, and I’ve never seen a woman bully so many men and put them in their place before. It’s inspirational.”

Kikyo giggled. “Tell me more about her.”

“You’d be so proud of her. The texts about - about enchantments that she got while you two were still together, she never stopped learning them.”

“She didn’t?” Kikyo inquired with astonishment.

Kagome shook her head in reply. “No, and she helps so many with what she can do. People like us, and like Inuyasha. Those who deserve a chance, who haven’t done wrong to deserve the hands they’ve been dealt. She sets up these - these deterrents around her village and it wards demons away from scents they may be tracking, and she has special rooms designated for those on the run. Kaede’s a savior. The first time I met her, I was sick. I used too much strength and hurt myself, so Inuyasha took me to her. She had some remedies at the ready and took such good care of me. She’s sweet, Kikyo. Kaede’s a good person. She’s such a good person.”

Kikyo was reduced to sobs, but the sadness was of her own regret. Of how she couldn’t have witnessed this for herself. Overpowering that was her happiness. Kaede was healthy. She was fighting for something. She wasn’t this frail girl that hid behind people, but in fact was the person others stood behind instead.

“You’ll also enjoy that she constantly puts Inuyasha in his place.”

“I thought they were friends.”

“They are.” Kagome giggled. “But, she’s a take-no-shit kind of woman, particularly with the opposite gender, I’ve noticed. It doesn’t seem to matter who you are, if you step out of line, she’ll be the first to remind you to back up.”

“She’s always been like that. I’m so happy to see that it hasn’t gotten her into any trouble. I was always worried about that.”

“No, Kaede holds her own just fine.”

“I am. I am proud of her.” Kikyo confirmed quietly.

“I think she’d be proud of you, too.” Kagome whispered.

Kikyo trembled as she cried.

“I think she’d be unbearably proud, Kikyo. And, I think she’ll understand everything better than you think.”

“Does she know yet? About our last discussion?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Please - please tell her I love her. Add that in. Tell her I said I’ll meet her under the willow tree.”

“The willow tree?” Kagome’s voice cracked as she clenched back her sob.

“In our - in our village growing up, there was a willow tree. We always sat beneath it.”

“I’ll tell her.” She promised, gently stroking the matted hair from Kikyo’s sweat-soaked cheeks. “I promise, I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you. Thank you so - thank…”

More blood was seeping from her mouth. Kagome was drenched in it. It was warm and thick, dressing her hands, her arms, stomach, and legs. Kikyo’s skin was ghostly white, and her eyes lost any vibrancy they held before. Every swallow could be seen as it went down harshly, her throat bobbing with the movements, and it was more like she was looking through Kagome now. Not at her.

“Shh, maybe you shouldn’t talk anymore.” Kagome hushed, stroking her hair. She spoke as her own mother would to her when she was emotional, when she was devastated; softly, soothingly, patiently. The world could wait for just one moment. Right now, it was just the two of them. That’s all. That was all they needed. Just for right now. “Everything’s okay now, Kikyo. You fought so well.”

Hot tears streamed from her eyes, and the dying conjurer looked up toward the sky. The moon was so big even though it was completely full just two days prior. It felt like a greeting from mother nature. A kind, forgiving smile from the goddess that held her hand out for her to take, her long, black hair swaying behind her feminine frame with the breeze.

“I’m s- I’m sorry.” Kikyo breathed brokenly.

“Don’t be.” She whispered in reply. “You did your best. We’re all so proud of you. Thank you, Kikyo. Thank you so much.”

Kagome continued her tender brushing, holding the woman closer to her so she could hopefully feel her own warmth. Kikyo was cold, was small, her hands unable to grasp onto Kagome’s shirt any longer.

“Everything’s okay.” Kagome repeated sadly, but sweetly. “You’re going to be okay now. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

Kikyo’s eyes fluttered closed.

Her breathing came evenly.

Slowly.

Not as it should.

“You don’t have to fight anymore. It’s okay now. It’s okay.” Kagome was sobbing, shaking, fading away.

Her grip on the woman was growing weaker, she could feel it slipping. With Kikyo’s life dwindling, so was the power she used to keep Kagome to her. Carefully, she set Kikyo down so she wouldn’t chance dropping her, continuing to pet her cheeks, whispering the same, kind statements over and over until she couldn’t physically feel her cold flesh beneath her fingers any longer.

There was a moment of pitch darkness. As she blinked her eyes opened, coming to consciousness, it seemed as if all sounds followed. The song of the crickets, the fire popping just feet away. Kagome was back in her camp, her head against the bag that served as a pillow where she’d fallen asleep just hours before.

It was a dream. It was just a dream.

A nightmare.

Either way, it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real. I couldn’t have been.

Slowly, timidly, Kagome moved her arms, instantly feeling the uncomfortable drench of her soddened clothing sticking to her skin. It caused her heart to pound inside her chest, it caused her panic to return, and as she lifted her hands above her face, she saw the blood that stained her skin.

“Inu - Inuyasha.” She couldn’t even call out for him, she was so terrified. Her voice came out small and broken, raspy, as if she’d been screaming for hours and this was the aftereffects. “Inuyasha. Where are you?”

He’d heard her from below, movement, but it wasn’t until he’d caught the desperate whisper of his name that his ears twitched in her direction and he looked down. She was slowly sitting up, looking at her hands, and he smelled blood. A lot of it. Instantly, he jumped down from the branch, landing on his feet so roughly that he stumbled forward but never stopped on his scramble to her side.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m right -“ He froze. He was right. The blood. She was covered in it. How? There wasn’t an inch of clean skin on her hands that he could see, her charcoal shirt sticking to her chest, her abdomen, stained with such a deep red that it had his stomach sinking at a drastic rate. Frantically, Inuyasha yanked his robe off of her lower body, looking to see if there was a source, only to find her legs and boots soaked, as well.

He couldn’t speak. A huge lump had formed in his throat from the fright he felt, and his gaze climbed up her body to find her large, weeping eyes.

It had taken a moment to push passed his initial dread in order to think rationally again, but he knew the smell of Kagome. He knew the smell of her blood. This wasn’t hers. This was the metallic odor he’d caught before. He smelled the familiar scent of a person he couldn’t pin, he smelled a horrible amount of blood, Naraku, and then within a split second, it was all gone. It had him further on edge than he’d been before, but he watched. He waited. All for nothing to rise again. He’d felt like he was in a simulation of sorts and he’d just witnessed a glitch in the system.

So, how the fuck was Kagome now soddened in the very same blood he’d just smelled moments before? She was asleep. She was safe. She was under his watch. Nothing could have gotten her, so how in the hell was she looking at him with finger streaks of blood painted on her cheeks that her tears didn’t even bother to clean?

“Kikyo.” Kagome sobbed, holding her hands out before her as if she was afraid to touch herself, or him, or anything in between. “It’s Kikyo. She’s - she’s dead.”

Kikyo.

That was who it was. He knew he’d caught it. It was only once that he’d met her though, so his olfactory system wasn’t familiar enough to have memorized it.

“What do you mean she’s dead, kid?”

“She’s dead.” Kagome repeated, unable to bite back any emotion. “I saw. I was there.”

“H-how?”

She presented her hands, her arms as if they were statement enough. “Her - her magic! It was one of Naraku’s underlings! They killed her! Inuyasha, they - they -“

He closed the gap, pulling her into his lap, holding her tight. He didn’t care about the blood, or the mess. He couldn’t just watch her shatter like that. Inuyasha didn’t understand the magical aspects that some people were capable of, and he’d come to terms with the fact that not everything could be comprehended by others who didn’t experience it firsthand. He didn’t need to understand. He just needed to listen. Kagome had witnessed Kikyo’s death. There was no possible way she could be lying about that while she sat there bathed in the opposite conjurer’s blood.

Kagome shook inconsolably, sobbed loudly, but she clung to Inuyasha with an unmatched urgency. The heaves that wracked her chest became painful, but it felt like no matter how tight she held onto him, she couldn’t feel her hanyou over the liquid that smeared her body. Kikyo was still out there. Her body was still on the ground. She was cold, and alone, and nobody deserved to be left like that after death. If she was able to pull Kagome next to her in such a physical manner, that meant she was close. Very close.

“Can you - can you find her?” Kagome asked Inuyasha between gasps of air.

“What do you mean?” He asked with a gentleness he rarely presented, using the backs of his knuckles to caress her cheek.

“She’s close. She had to be in order to perform that magic. Do you smell her?”

“I did. Before.” Inuyasha admitted. “You were asleep, and I caught her scent for literally a second before it disappeared. Minutes later, you’re waking up like this.”

“But, do you smell her now? She can’t create a barrier anymore.”

Apprehensively, he spoke. “I - I can’t smell anything over you.” And, as wrong as it felt to slide her from his lap and let her go - horribly, sickeningly wrong - he did so, rising to his feet. “Give me two seconds.”

Inuyasha jumped back up to the tree branch he’d occupied before, taking it a step further to go just a bit higher. The breeze should carry something his way. He really had to focus. His instincts were glued to Kagome, his brain only bringing the noises she made, the aroma off of her his way, and he’d had to mentally shove that aside in order to concentrate on their surroundings. The moment he’d caught the heavy scent of copper, Inuyasha locked on the direction they needed to head in, memorizing what he could. He knew the moment he jumped down to grab Kagome, it’d be hard to smell Kikyo out.

His feet hit the floor, and he quickly grabbed the conjurer’s hand. He hadn’t expected her to be on her feet, he hadn’t expected her to be able to run. She was so unsteady in his arms, he’d fully anticipated carrying her, but the woman had relatively pulled herself together so quickly. They left everything at their camp aside from their weapons, and she followed him as far as he could lead. For a while, she had to stay behind him, downwind from Inuyasha so that he could scout the path, reduced to walking now as they trekked through dark, shadowed trails they could barely see through.

It was vague, but there was a sense of familiarity that Kagome felt twinge in her stomach. She wanted to say she knew where they were, but she’d only seen it in red, so how could she be sure? Noticing some disturbed dirt next to a large tree, she reached for Inuyasha, clutching his shirt to stop him so she could crouch down and look without him going too far.

She’d been here. This was where she’d dropped down. This was where she’d almost puked. The disturbed dirt was where her boots had dug into the earth as she’d sunken and scratched her back on the bark of the tree. She did know where they were.

Kagome took off running, rushing in the direction she recalled from earlier, knowing they weren’t far at all.

And, then she abruptly halted. Her feet stopped worked. Her muscles jolted painfully, and her lungs clenched in her chest. The only thing she could feel was an icy sensation swarm over her and the pounding of her heart as it was being forced to slow.

Kikyo laid motionless in the exact position she’d left her in. The moon shined on her, but it illuminated no color except for the crimson Kagome didn’t want to see. There was no pink in her cheeks or on her lips where there should have been at least a slight hue. She was gone. Kikyo was gone. It was real. This hadn’t been a nightmare at all.

She forced herself to amble forward, her chin quivering as she grew nearer the corpse.

“Baby -“

“No. Don’t protect me right now.” Kagome said with a melancholic shake of her head. She’d already suffered through the worst of it. She’d already witnessed the death of someone she never saw falling. If she’d wanted security, a safety net, she would have never asked Inuyasha to find Kikyo’s whereabouts. She would have stayed in camp, continued clinging to him for dear life, closed her eyes and pretended it had never happened.

Inuyasha respected her wishes. He understood this feeling completely. Right now, Kagome didn’t need someone to stand behind, to shield her, but someone to stand directly beside her in support. He could do that. He would do that. If that was what she needed, it was already hers.

The conjurer stopped just a foot away from Kikyo, noticing the markings she’d left behind before she’d returned to reality. “This was - this was where I… I sat here.” Kagome admitted, feeling the hot tears brimming again as she glanced over her shoulder at Inuyasha. “I held her. While she - while she died. I told her about Kaede.”

“You held her?” The hanyou couldn’t help the sympathetic curve of his brow, or the frown that pushed at his lips.

She nodded, looking back at Kikyo’s body. “She didn’t want to be alone. She was just so happy to not have to be haunted by Naraku anymore.”

“Those dreams you’d been having. They’re connected aren’t they?”

“It was Kikyo. She was using our connection to find me. She wanted me to know what was happening first hand, but she needed to be closer.” Kagome found herself kneeling down at Kikyo’s side, feeling like the right thing to do was pick Kikyo right back up into her arms and continue comforting her, but she resisted. If she’d done that, there was a strong chance she wouldn’t have been able to put her down. “That means, she’d been running, and hiding, and doing everything she could to stay alive for days. What’s it been since the first vision? Four? Five?”

“Kagome, it’s not your fault.”

“She should have told me where she was. We could have helped her.” Though tears streamed from her eyes, she didn’t sound to be sobbing. Her tone was so sunken, so sad it was almost devoid of all emotion.

“But, she didn’t. That’s not on you. What did she tell you? She had to have given some sort of explanation.”

“She said she knew she wasn’t going to survive. That she just wanted me to know that - that she was gone. That she couldn’t fight anymore.” Kagome blinked away the sadness that refused to stop flowing through her eyes. Naraku didn’t win. He wasn’t allowed to even think he’d won. All he’d done was set her free. Much like Kikyo said, he’d released her. “I think it was Kagura. The woman that killed Kikyo. She was apologetic. Remorseful. And, she mentioned having no choice but to do this because she had a child’s safety to ensure. That means Sesshomaru’s family is still alive. They’re okay.”

“Don’t worry about that right now, kid.” Inuyasha sighed, sauntering over to kneel beside her. He didn’t like the way she looked right now, how she wouldn’t even glance at him anymore. Her eyes were dull and listless, drowning in grief. He wished she’d weep again. He wished she’d crumble. At least that way she’d be getting all of it out of her system. But, this? This was the works of the sorrow taking her hostage. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t want to think about me right now.” She confessed. “This isn’t about me. Later. I promise.”

“Okay.” Inuyasha breathed, accepting her compromise. He took a moment, sealing his lips, pushing her hair behind her ear as she stared on at the corpse. With the way her fingers twitched forward, he could tell she was wanting to feel Kikyo again, hold her, console her. Like, she was trying to come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t necessary anymore. She was dead.

“We should,” He sighed. “We should bury her. You want to do that?”

Kagome nodded. “Yeah. But, not here.”

“Not here?” He echoed, more for a reach into her mind to understand.

“Kagura told Kikyo that if Naraku asked where her body was located, she’d have to tell him. Kikyo doesn’t want Naraku to have her body. I don’t want him to find her.”

“Okay. Let’s find some place else, then. Come on.” Inuyasha held his hand out for her, waiting patiently until she took it.

He let her guide their way. He didn’t mind the silence, or the loose grip she had on his fingers. He didn’t mind her minor stumbling, or how she was aimlessly wandering. Inuyasha would be able to find their way back, and he would walk however far Kagome deemed appropriate.

They came upon a hillside that overlooked a valley. It was green, dewy from the moisture in the crisp air, and peppered with wildflowers. Instantly, he knew Kagome’s attention was on the single tree just to their right. Before she’d even pulled him in that direction, he knew.

“In the daytime, she’ll be shaded, but at nighttime, she’ll have a clear shot of the stars. What do you think?” She asked. She’d finally stopped crying, her cheeks positively stained with streaks of old blood and salt. Yet, she was still capable of being kind, of being compassionate. Kagome didn’t choose a spot at random, but put some thought into the scenery that felt right.

“I think it’s perfect.” He answered. Pointing to a spot that he felt would be best covered by the branches above, Inuyasha asked, ��Here?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t the easiest, but they dug a whole that ran deep, one the average demon's nose wouldn’t be able to catch a whiff of the deceased through. One Inuyasha felt would properly shield Kikyo from Naraku within. They traveled back to grab Kikyo, and Inuyasha was careful with how he carried her, handling the former conjurer with extreme care as Kagome followed immediately behind with her discarded bow to bury her with.

The sun was beginning it’s ascent as they returned to the gravesite, and by the time Kikyo was fully laid to rest, the sky blended with awakening tints of pink and blue. Inuyasha remained quiet, respectful as Kagome continued to pat the dirt to ensure it was packed firmly. It was easy to tell she was hesitant to leave Kikyo. He could physically feel the remorse she waded through, but still, he wished she’d shed tears again. It hurt so bad to watch her suffer in silence, to watch her shut down, to watch her fingers tremble while he could do nothing to ease her heartache.

It was one thing to understand a person you knew had died. It was one thing to learn of it from another, or even to witness it from a safe distance. But, to hold them as it happened? To see the light fade from their eyes, to hear their voice trail away, to feel them grow heavy in your arms, it was an entirely different story. It was traumatizing. He’d been there. He held his mother. He held a few strangers he’d found mauled, on their final breath, and so afraid to die alone. It was hard. He knew firsthand that Kagome was going to continue to feel the weight of Kikyo in her arms throughout the duration that she mourned, as if the woman were still present and there. He knew firsthand that Kagome was going to wash the blood from her body but still see it as if it had seeped through the first layer of her flesh and she’d need to scrape it all off until her skin was angry, raw, and prickling with her own blood. And, there was nothing he could do to save her from that. Those feelings were going to demand her undivided attention, and the only thing Inuyasha was aware he could offer was his unwavering support. No matter how badly he wanted to protect her, even steal the emotions away to be felt as his own so that she wouldn’t have to shoulder them, he knew he couldn’t.

In no way did he plan on allowing her to sink into those dark thoughts he was all too conscious of. The ones that dragged you down while you were weakened by a state of grieving, that made you feel like there was no amount of sunlight that could brighten the darkness. As time had passed and Kagome merely stared at the grave, silent, motionless, the hanyou made the call. It was time to go.

At her side, he held out his hand. “Come on, Kagome.” He’d spoken so softly. Her dull gaze slowly shifted to his extended fingers, and by instinct, she went to place her hand in his, but paused halfway.

It was the guilt. That she got to continue living while Kikyo did not. That Kikyo would be left here alone. All alone. Kagome’s hand faltered back and forth between taking Inuyasha’s and touching the dirt that bedded the former conjurer. All the while, he was patient. He knew she would understand that she couldn’t stay here forever, and he didn’t have to articulate the reminder. Kagome would choose to move forward.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered to Kikyo, and before long, her fingers slid within Inuyasha’s gentle grasp.

The hanyou assisted her to a standing. “She doesn’t have to fight anymore. She’s at peace now.”

“I know.” The surviving conjurer replied quietly. He could tell, at the moment, his statement was in one ear and out the other. She wasn’t in the right state of mind to receive reassurance. Her walls were up. And, he had a feeling he’d know when she was ready.

They made their way back to their campsite to gather the few things they’d left behind. Inuyasha knew she wouldn’t want to stay. He didn’t need to kick out what embers may have still remained because they’d long died off on their own. Instead, he took the bag before she could secure it over her shoulders. He couldn’t do much for her right now, but the least he could do was remove the physical weight from her back.

Kagome wasn’t talkative in the least, didn’t even make a sound when she’d accidentally tripped over a root and stumbled into his arm, the gasp she’d released so light even he had hardly caught it. She needed to rest, he was more than aware, but he knew that if he verbally made the suggestion, Kagome would shake her head to decline. She’d closed herself off so much, he was certain she didn’t even realize they were still covered in dried blood and dirt. As far as he was concerned, it was his executive decision to make. So, he sought out a river, or a lake, or any small body of water they’d be able to wash off in.

He’d thought he’d been following the sounds of a stream, but as the rushing water became more thunderous than expected, he’d realized they were at the bottom of a waterfall. It was secluded, it was peaceful, it was where they were calling it a day. And, he meant that. He didn’t care if she wanted to keep going after they’d cleaned up, and he didn’t care if they got into an argument because of it; Kagome needed to sit down and rest. She hadn’t gotten much sleep as it was, and she couldn’t just walk this feeling off. She, of all people, should know.

To his surprise, as they forced their way through bushes to come out onto the greenery that surrounded the pool, Kagome seemed to have no objections. She knew what they were there for, and as he set the bag down, removing the sheath of his sword from the loop in his belt, she dropped her bow and quiver from her shoulders to the ground beside them. After placing her father’s knife in the pile, she followed the hanyou into the water, neither yet bothering to remove any clothing.

Inuyasha reached for her hands, which this time she didn’t hesitate to take, holding the both of his as he pulled her in deeper. For the first time in hours, Kagome sighed out heavily, a little shakily. The pool was cold, it was a shock to the system, and it served to both cleanse her person while jolting her out of the bleak depths of her depressive state.

The hanyou gently began washing her palms off, taking meticulous care, and finally he heard her voice. It was cracked, it was small, but it was her voice.

“I can do it.” She claimed. And, he gave her a small grin of acknowledgment, releasing his meager grip to give her space.

Kagome dunked her hands in the water, beginning to rub the filth on her fingers away. Some of it washed off easily, but a good portion was stuck to her skin. It would have been easier if she had a rag, or maybe something coarse. Something that could lift the crimson stain so she’d never have to see it again. Utilizing the next best thing that she had, Kagome removed her shirt, balling up the ruined cloth and plunging it into the pool. For some reason, she’d tried to rinse it the best that she could, no matter how much of a lost cause it was from the start.

Grabbing an end that wasn’t stained, Kagome used it to scrub at her hands, finding it helped substantially. She continued up her arms, taking her time, but during which, finding her stability wavering. As she washed the remaining evidence of the last of Kikyo’s life away, she revisited the wounds that marred her flesh, her final words, the way her eyes faded, and hot tears quickly brimmed that had to be blinked away.

“I’m gonna dive.” Kagome mentioned, warning Inuyasha so he wouldn’t worry.

She took a deep breath, and down she went, kicking off of the rocks beneath her feet to swim deeper into the pool. Coming up to the surface, Kagome treaded in the water for a moment, quickly acclimating to the temperature now that she’d fully submerged. She backed up until her feet could reach some of the loose, mossy floor beneath, and then continued until she was only engulfed from the chest down. Even the cold didn’t help anymore. Kagome couldn’t silence her grief, tears streaming from her eyes as her breathing became heavy and sputtered once more.

Kikyo was gone. She was gone. She could still feel her in her arms, she could still hear her cries. She was told it wasn’t her fault, but if that were true, why did Kagome feel such a horrible sense of remorse in the pit of her chest? Why did she feel so guilty? Just because Kikyo felt she couldn’t be saved didn’t mean Kagome shouldn’t have tried. Why hadn’t she figured out the visions were coming from Kikyo? How could she not have pieced that together sooner? It didn’t matter that she had never experienced the detrimental tint of red before, it didn’t matter that she was apparently seeing things through Kikyo’s eyes for just small glimpses at a time. They were reoccurring and precise. How could she have dismissed them as nothing more than dreams without a meaning? She was smarter than that. It felt insensitive to have belittled them as such, it felt cruel of her to shrug them off and carry on with her day while Kikyo had been fighting for her life. Kagome had failed. She’d failed herself, and she’d failed her friend.

Her sobs were beginning to wrack her body, like hyperventilated breaths that made it hard to actually attain oxygen. This sadness, this thick sludge of loss was impossible to ignore, and instead of trying to regain control over herself while it wasn’t necessary, instead of reaching for composure that was miles away, Kagome turned around to face Inuyasha.

He’d been watching her. Carefully. Closely. All while minding her space. He, himself, had removed his shirt using it to scrub clean, but he never had his eyes off of her for more than a second at a time. Each gasp he heard her breathe as she began to cry was like a thorn to his heart. It was difficult to respect the distance she’d created, but as the water rippled, and she turned his way, looking at him with such a sorrowful expression, that was all he needed in order to know that he no longer had to. She was ready for him.

Taking his cue, Inuyasha waded over, his arms catching her as she closed the distance herself by bounding into his chest.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He whispered soothingly into her hair, tightening his hold around her as she cried against him. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Inuyasha kissed her head, stroked his fingers over the soaked backside of the top that supported her breasts, gently pet her hair, and waited patiently. He would have stood there holding her all fucking day and night if that was what it took. He didn’t care. If this was what Kagome needed, then nothing stood the chance of pulling him away from her.

As her weeping gradually died down, and the aftershocks of hiccups shook her core, his hands began to massage at her upper back, creating tiny ripples of water with his skillful movements. Her arms had slackened some around his waist, but Kagome still nuzzled into his chest.

“I can’t get all of the blood off of me.” She mentioned, her words raspy. Broken.

“You got most of it. I saw. You want my help?” Inuyasha spoke sweetly.

“Please.” Kagome nodded against him, leaning back the tiniest bit. “Is it - is it still on my face?”

Inuyasha didn’t answer just yet, dipping his hands in the water before bringing his thumbs up and gently rubbing against her cheeks. “Not anymore.”

He didn’t say anything else before his hands traveled downward, washing her chest, applying a little more friction to the mess on her stomach, all the while placing a tender kiss to the center of her forehead.

“I’m sorry. I have to ask this.” Inuyasha whispered into her ear. “But, I wasn’t there, so I don’t know the situation. Were you hurt, kid?”

In response, Kagome shook her head. “Kikyo protected me with her magic. Kagura didn’t even know I was there.”

“Then, what’s this on your back?” He asked, gently rubbing over the scraped area as he had numerous times already.

“That was me.” She said, tucking herself back into his arms so he’d rest his chin on top of her head. “I stumbled into a tree.”

It wasn’t until her nerves had died down and she began to shiver that Inuyasha made the decision to guide her out of the water. Their soaked clothes were set out to dry, and the both of them were soon donned in fresh apparel, sitting around a fire she’d insisted on being the one to build.

Kagome hadn’t wanted to deal with her hair, finding herself growing impatient just by brushing the damp tangles away. As soon as the last of it was smoothed out, she grabbed her hair tie and set to braiding it, uncaring of the uneven chunks of hair that she grabbed while she started at the crown of her head and worked her way down.

“That’s cute.” Inuyasha smiled, crouching before her and taking it upon himself to fix her loose bangs. The only reply she could muster was a lazy crinkle of her nose, bringing a chuckle from his lips as he got some fish cooking over the fire.

At first, he’d figured she didn’t want to talk about anything, but before long, Inuyasha realized it was more that she couldn’t. Kagome looked exhausted. Her emotions were justifiably all over the place, and in her state, how could she be expected to be able to put them into words? He wasn’t the least bit bothered by her silence or how far she seemed to sit from him. Truthfully, he figured it was all absentminded action. At least now she didn’t seem so sunken inward. Her irises were still dull, but there was the glimmer of Kagome in them again. He suspected that slowly, steadily, she would return at her own rate. And, Inuyasha would be right there when she did.

Kagome managed to eat more than he’d expected of her, and though he’d left her alone to rest, he knew she was fighting it. Couldn’t say he blamed her for that. It was twilight, but a monotonous one. No gorgeous colors glowed in the sky to end their day, and from their position behind the mountain, they couldn’t even see the sun as it fell. Before they knew it, the two of them were shadowed completely, the air quickly growing crisp as it lost the warmth that the sun provided.

It was chilly. She sat near the fire, but being so close to the waterfall had a draft hitting them that was hard to ignore. Kagome was trying not to make it obvious. She knew Inuyasha was already worried about her, and he had been so kind, and sweet, and diligent all day, so she was scared that merely shivering would exacerbate his concern. She’d considered laying down, trying to sleep, but it was hard to close her eyes for more than a second without seeing Kikyo’s body. Even now, there was still a hard lump caught in her throat that made it difficult to swallow. She was just all cried out for the moment. Her eyes burned with fatigue, her chest ached from the hiccups that had taken forever to go away, her muscles felt sluggish and heavy, and her head throbbed horrendously.

For some reason, her attention kept shifting to Inuyasha. He was leaning back against a tree, sitting nonchalantly as he gazed up at the sky. Why were they so far apart? Why had she sat alone? Maybe because she was worried about bothering him further or seeming clingy. Would Inuyasha actually mind if she was clingy for a little while? She honestly couldn’t see him being bothered by it. At all. She didn’t want him to just allow it because she was in a bad state of mind at the moment, though. Like he pitied her. She didn’t want pity. She wanted compassion. But, this was Inuyasha. This was her Inuyasha. If she wanted to be near him and didn’t act on it, and he found out later, he’d probably call her an idiot. No, he’d call her worse. If she wanted to touch him but kept to herself out of fear of bothering him, Inuyasha would give her the look. The look that said more than his mouth ever could, and that was saying something given Inuyasha was probably the most outspoken person she’d ever met. It was a glare that scolded, a slant of his eyes that condemned her, but there was no frown. His lips were set straight, pulled in no direction, and it was probably what made the expression worse since she couldn’t read what level of upset he was actually conveying. It was rare that he ever looked at her that way, but she’d seen it twice, maybe three times, before. And, it was the one thing he could do to make her truly pout in shame.

Resolved and hopeful for an inkling of peace she knew his arms would provide, Kagome picked herself up from her spot, sauntering over to the hanyou. His eyes shifted her way, and as she grew closer, a small, welcoming smile appeared. The empty spot beside him didn’t suit her liking, though. As odd as it seemed, it just wasn’t close enough. Feeling a rush of shyness mix into her already-swarming emotions, all Kagome could bring herself to do in order to communicate was glance down at his legs while she stood in front of him. Verbal communication was far out of reach, but she knew Inuyasha was the only person who’d learned to understand her with or without.

Inuyasha’s grin only inched wider when she gave such a subtle signal for him to take. She wanted his lap. Honestly, he was just happy she wanted to be near him right now. He’d fully accepted that she needed her space and was going to respect it, but he’d be a lying sack of shit if he didn’t admit that he wanted to at least be within arms reach for his own sense of comfort. Having her sit across their camp was hard while he knew she was struggling and all he wanted to do was help, but he was more than willing if it was what she’d wanted. But, now she wanted him.

He outstretched his bent legs, patting on his thighs for her to lay on as she had several times before, but this time Kagome gave a small shake of her head. At first, Inuyasha was a little confused. He’d read her correctly, right? She does want his lap, right?

“Not like this?” He asked. And, Kagome replied with a shake of her head in confirmation. “Did you want to sit?”

She gave a small nod, pointing in between his legs. In another attempt to get it right, Inuyasha bent his legs as they’d just been, spreading them wider so she had room to sit between his thighs. Again, she shook her head, a bashful flush heating her face as she bit her bottom lip.

“Oh,” He chuckled. “I know what you want.”

Of course. It was foolish of him not to think of it first. Kagome didn’t want to just sit with him, or lean against him. She wanted to be held by him. She wanted to be tucked so securely against him that nothing stood the chance of harming her. She wanted, just for a moment, to not have to put up a strong demeanor. She wanted to shrink into his chest, his arms, she wanted to close her eyes, and she wanted the sound of his heartbeat to mute all other thoughts her mind could threaten her with.

Inuyasha folded his legs, watching the tiniest smile pull at the corners of her lips when he opened his arms to invite her in. She carefully crawled into his lap, her own legs folding over one of his thighs as she curled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling against him.

“Better?” He asked just before kissing her temple. Kagome granted him a hum of approval, sighing out deeply as he hugged her close, tight, safe.

Inuyasha relaxed back against the tree, enjoying the feel of how her breath hadn’t yet synced to his. The push of her lungs met his abdomen in disagreement with his own pattern, matching their own rhythm, and it brought him a sensation of tranquility. When their breathing matched, it wasn’t that he didn’t love it. It was more that it just became too second nature and he had to focus to make sure her lungs were really doing their job. But, when she opposed his own, he didn’t need a reminder. He could feel it.

Quicker than he’d expected, Kagome’s weight began to increase against him. She was falling asleep. His arms were snug around her, his chin was resting on top of her head, and if he didn’t risk pulling her from that in between state, he’d be kissing her goodnight right now. It was that in between state that he knew was the most worrisome, though. Where you weren’t quite unconscious so the thoughts that you barely kept at bay during the day could sneak up on you at any given moment without so much as a barrier to hold them back. All Inuyasha could hope for was her serenity. Kagome deserved that much. She deserved to rest right now. And, as he felt her breathing deepen, a small twitch from her fingers on his backside, he knew she’d gotten past it without harm, sleeping soundly in the refuge of his protection.

—

It would be an understatement to say Kagura was shaken. The choice of vocabulary was laughable in comparison to what she’d actually felt. She was no saint. She’d done horrible things in her lifetime. Before she thought to escape her “father,” Kagura had done his bidding without so much as blinking an eye. She’d murdered, she’d robbed, she’d come home covered in blood belonging to numerous people at a time, took a bath, then moved on with her life without feeling an ounce of compunction. It wasn’t that she could claim she had a conscience. In fact, she was sure she was deliberately created without one. If Naraku surely didn’t own one, how could she? That didn’t mean she wasn’t smart enough to know right from wrong. That didn’t mean she wanted to be the same sort of beast Naraku was. That was where he’d made his mistake in creating her. He’d given her a mind of her own.

Naraku was more than vile. His twisted laughter at another’s expense caused her stomach to churn and ache, his malicious smile made her welcome the dark so she’d never have to see it, his unforgiving brutality had her wishing for her own death at times, and it wasn’t all that long after her rise that a switch flipped in her brain and she realized she wanted to be as far removed from him as she could possibly get.

Maybe that meant she did have a conscience. Maybe she’d developed one after so many pleading screams had echoed in her ears. Maybe running away and experiencing love was both the best and worst thing for her, because killing Kikyo was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

It was too easy. It was entirely too easy. Why was she ordered to kill Kikyo when she was on her deathbed as it was? The conjurer had run herself dry, depleted her energy, and was so far gone that no matter how well she’d tried to take care of herself thereafter, there was no coming back from it. Kikyo would have died on her own in just a matter of weeks if things continued as they were. So, why the hell did Kagura have no other choice but to savagely murder her?

She knew the story. She knew how Naraku attempted to corrupt Kikyo, how they’d met when she could still be considered a child, how that monster upheaved her life, flipped it upside down, and burned any future she may have been able to create for herself. Naraku had singlehandedly made that woman’s world hell, and Kagura was furious that she had to personally see to the end of it. Naraku killed her spirit, and Kagura killed her heart.

And, she knew what was about to happen. She knew Naraku too well not to know what sort of reaction waited for her on the other side of the manor. As disgusting as it was, while he was still human, he truly did harbor some sort of affection for Kikyo. And, Kagura had her blood dripping down her fingers.

She took a deep breath, easily shoving aside her conflicting emotions so that she could get this over with. She’d been gone for too long as it was, so any feelings that slowed her down were useless right now. Kagura’s heels clicked along the hard floor, a frown curving at her stained lips as she approached the study and entered through the cracked door.

He’d smelled it. He’d smelled her coming, and he smelled the liquid oozing from the feather she held and down her hand. That was why Naraku was already staring at the door, that was why his jaw was hard and set, that was why his red eyes were more piercing than she’d ever seen in her entire life. Kagura instantly understood that she had underestimated the situation. From the way the half demon bristled at the other end of the room, from the way his tentacles curled malignantly, and the spider legs that grew out of the free space of his back appeared and stiffened, from the way his demonic energy began to swirl like she’d only felt a handful of times, things were already appearing to be worse than she’d imagined. It’d caught her off guard. She froze in the entryway, apprehensive, her breathy gasp caught in her throat to emphasize the hollow.

“That - that’s -“ It seemed like her master was in a state of shock. Kagura had never seen his lips twitch this way, or his chin quiver in the manner it did now. “Did you…”

“Miss Kagura, you’re -“ Rin’s small smile of greeting faded as quickly as it had appeared as the man standing just a few feet away from where she sat on the floor playing with dolls screamed at her so loud, his voice cracked.

“SHUT UP!” Naraku had curled his spine some, his thick fingers positively quaking. “Did you do it, Kagura!? Is she dead!?”

“She’s - yes.” Kagura answered unsteadily, eyes wide and breath trembling. “Yes, I did it. Kikyo’s dead.”

“And, that’s her blood?” He didn’t need to ask that question. She knew his sense of smell was somehow stronger than her own.

“It is.”

“You’re unscathed. How? Kikyo is strong, you should have come back half mangled! You’re lying! You betrayed me again, didn’t you!? You made a deal with that cunt and took some of her blood to try and fool me! She’s still alive out there, isn’t she!?” He raced over to her, grabbing Kagura by the throat and pinning her against the wall before she could so much as think to react. She’d had to ignore the little girl’s scream, her broken cry, praying she’d keep the promise they’d made when she’d first arrived. If Naraku were to ever do anything to Kagura, Rin swore to keep her distance. Rin swore never to run up and try and do something her father would, because Naraku wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her. “Isn’t she!?”

“N-Naraku.” Kagura gurgled, trying to push him off, to pry her neck from his grip with her free hand while preserving the evidence she held in the other. “Kikyo’s - Kikyo’s dead.”

It was another moment before Naraku’s eyes went blank, his fingers gradually releasing Kagura, and a thick swallow had his Adam’s apple bobbing.

She gasped in some air, recovering as quickly as she could to give the explanation he was looking for before he could grow angry again. “Kikyo did strike me.” She said, pointing to a tear in her gown on her arm that she’d received days before. “It’s just healed already.”

“She’s a conjurer. You should have been dead from her strike.”

“She was dying, Naraku. She hardly had any power left in her.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know the logistics of their kind. She looked passed the point of fatigue. When I had appeared, she had this look in her eyes. Like, her final chance had just been stolen away. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I saw hope, but I saw it gradually fizzle the nearer I got.” Kagura said. “You were the one who’d told me she was weak and sick. Why is this coming as such a shock to you?”

“Such impudence to question me!” Naraku yelled, slapping the back of his hand across Kagura’s face. Forcefully, he jerked the feather from between her fingers. “This will tell me if you’re lying.”

The monster hovered the stained, white object close to his face, observing it intensely, intimately. His red irises traveled over each minor detail of the feather, gazing at the blood with a sense of dedication that steadily shifted into desire. It was grotesque. It was disturbing. It had Kagura pressing herself flush against the wall in an attempt to further separate from the madman.

Dreamily, Naraku dragged the feather over his tongue, the conserved blood coloring the surface of which before he closed his mouth and took his time studying the taste. His eyes blinked hazily, sort of rolling into the back of his head as a vicious grin turned at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t wide, it wasn’t tooth-baring. It was minute, subtle, but speaking volumes of the pleasure he felt. Kagura had to swallow her shudder, tensing her entire body so she risked no involuntary, negative reactions from her muscles.

“I can taste you.” Naraku breathed.

“You sliced her.” He chuckled.

“Your demonic energy is mixed with her mortal essence.” He moaned.

“She still tastes as good as she did before.” He licked the feather again.

“Fuck,” He groaned pleasantly. “I can practically taste her final breaths.”

“She was so pathetically weak when she died.” Naraku laughed, stumbling backward as he grew intoxicated by the blood. “She’s dead. The bitch is dead! She’s dead!” But, then his glee began to dwindle, his crazed eyes glued to the feather as he began to furl his spine forward. The extra appendages on his back began slithering, growing, twitching erratically. His mental state had slipped, his footing was unstable as he continued to stumble backward, to the side, forward, stopping in the center of the floor when his spider legs planted roughly and supported him. He neither blinked nor swallowed, drool with the slightest tint of red dripping from his opened lips to dribble down his chin while his smile fell into a horrible, enraged frown. It was processing. His ex-lover was deceased. She was no more. Kikyo’s existence was gone, and even he, with the decrepit heart that beat within his chest, felt the pain of loss. “She’s dead? She’s dead? She’s dead. She’s - she’s - no.”

With a quick a demanding snap of her fingers, Kagura looked to the terrified and crying girl on the carpet, directing Rin to run to her side immediately with a point. The patter of her feet was rushed as she scrambled up and away from her spot, opening her arms wide for Kagura to grab her and pick her up, securing her against her body.

Naraku’s energy was soaring. It was so irate that a literal strength circled around him, building, growing, sending objects flying, the jar on Naraku’s desk holding Moryomaru’s still and rotting heart shattering against the far wall.

“Kikyo! Kikyo, my beloved!”

As quickly as she could, Kagura tucked rin’s head down against her shoulder and raced out of the room to safety. She’d never seen him like that. She’d never witnessed just how insane Naraku could be. She’d thought she’d seen it all, she’d thought she’d lived through the worst, but the entire place was shaking with his rage, and she wondered if killing the conjurer was truly worth it now.

—

Inuyasha turned to check how far behind him Kagome was trailing. Seeing she was within arm’s reach, regarding him with a small smile had his chest feeling a little lighter. It hadn’t yet been a full week since Kikyo’s passing, just a day shy, and he couldn’t quite claim she was back to normal, but she was handling herself well. He knew the further they got from the place it all happened, and the further they got from the date, the more Kagome’s state improved.

Just recalling how she was a few days ago had a heavy throb making home in his heart. She’d wake up and her irises would seem dull and spiritless, she’d either lay or sit there for a long moment before really coming to, and then she’d check her hands. Every day, she had to make sure they were clean. Kagome said her peripheral vision was playing tricks on her. In the corner of her eyes, she still saw red staining her skin, and first thing in the morning her not-yet-functioning brain would convince her she hadn’t succeeded in cleaning it all off. He’d quickly made it a habit of checking behind him to see where she was. He was so used to her by his side that when she was missing it was unsettling, but he also comprehended that keeping up was a little more difficult at the moment than when she was mentally sound. Inuyasha didn’t want to make her feel like she needed to hurry along, though. Right now, he didn’t mind taking it easy. Their next destination, one he hadn’t brought up to her for the sake of her momentary sanity, wasn’t necessarily one he was eager to get to anytime soon, anyway. As important as it was to get there soon, it wasn’t pressing to get there now. They had a few days to spare; it could wait that long.

Kagome still broke down. She wasn’t an empty shell of herself, and sometimes the pain in her chest became too much to bear and she’d crumble where she stood. It wasn’t difficult at all to be patient, and he hushed her whenever she apologized between shuddering sobs. If she’d stop while walking and crouch down to cry, Inuyasha would stop too. He’d kneel right next to her and either stroke her hair or rub her back. He wouldn’t say a thing unless prompted, because he knew very well that this was just a form of release. If she allowed it to build up, if she swallowed it and pushed the feelings away like she used to, it would eventually become too much to bear and potentially grow worse. It would ultimately effect her mentality, and her spiritual power would be difficult to control. Kagome couldn’t allow her emotions to pave the way, so she had to let them out.

Inuyasha knew that sensation. He knew that stuffiness in the center of your chest where it felt like a literal weight was making your entire body seem heavy. He knew how quickly it expanded, how bleak it made everything seem, how it made you feel like you would never recover and you were bound to be stuck with this burden forever. So, he was glad Kagome was taking care of herself. He was glad Kagome was crying. He was glad when she looked at him with those reddened, puffy eyes and that pouting, bottom lip that jutted out just a tiny bit, and she allowed him to clean the tears from her face and express just how tender he was capable of being.

Gradually, as the days passed, she cried a little less, she fell behind a little less, she replied a little more, she smiled a little wider, and her laughter was beginning to return. Inuyasha reached behind him now, accepting her modest grin by grabbing for her hand.

“Need a break?” He asked.

“I need a snack, is what I need.” Kagome said with a little grumble

“You’re hungry?”

“I mean, I could eat.”

Inuyasha chuckled, squeezing his grip on her hand. “Okay, we can climb down the mountain for some fish and actually sit down to eat a lunch, or we can eat some berries and hope that tides us off for a while. Option A will take at least an hour given we’re pretty high up from the river, option B will take about ten minutes because I’m pretty sure I saw some bushes with berries not too far back. I’m just not sure if they were the poisonous sort or not.”

“Berries!” Kagome chose with a small bounce.

“Okay,” The hanyou had to look away then, standing no chance of subduing his flush. In such a short time, her happiness appeared so far away from him that now that she was beginning to show it again, to be herself again, it made him stupidly flustered. She was cute. Too fucking cute. Irritatingly cute. “How about I go grab the berries and you find a spot to relax?”

“You don’t want me to go with you?” She questioned.

“Nah, you don’t need to. Don’t wander off too far, though.” He replied, slipping his hand out of hers and turning around to backtrack the trail they’d traveled.

Kagome felt a tug on her heart as he grew further. She’d felt so absent this past week that she actually missed Inuyasha, and he’d been right next to her the entire time. He’d kissed her head numerous times, her cheek, her temple, and once even on her hand, but right now she wanted that little bit of affection she’d been too far gone to receive and reciprocate. So, Kagome spun around on her heel, albeit bashfully, as she played with the sleeves of her shirt.

“Hey.” She called out, stopping her hanyou in his tracks.

Inuyasha looked over his shoulder at her, cocking a brow as he waited for her to say something. But, no words came forward. Instead, she pursed her lips, starting small until she lifted her chin, making it evident she wanted a kiss. His heart gave a delightful thud, but his entire body grew uncomfortably warm.

“Use your words.” He teased, trying to swallow his own rush of shyness. She had too much power over him and he was pretty sure she knew it. She knew he was wrapped around her finger just like the red string that knotted around their pinkies, tying them to each other. That didn’t mean he was always going to present himself as the goo his brain turned into. He was still a hard ass through and through, and he’d been nice enough where necessary. Right now, he felt well within his rights to play around with her a little.

Kagome’s mouth fell into a minor pout, finding herself just a bit too timid under his stare to say anything now. He was just taunting her to be a jerk, she was well aware of the games he played. But, she wanted a kiss, dammit. If she gave in and asked, he would only tease her more by saying something like, “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” There was no way Kagome could give him that sort of satisfaction, so again, she tried to communicate her wishes by pursing her lips, this time letting out the smallest whine.

“Is that any way to get what you want?” Inuyasha laughed.

With a skeptic arch of Kagome’s brow, her lips falling into an expression that easily said, obviously, she nodded.

He couldn’t help his sputtering laugh. Yeah, she definitely knew the effects she had on him. With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, Inuyasha walked right back over, rushing her at the tail end so she’d squeal and jump back just as he grabbed her, pulling her into a kiss.

“There,” Inuyasha spoke between a peck, his word murmured against her lips. “Happy?”

“Wait, one more.” Kagome replied, just as muted by his affection. “Okay, now I’m happy.” She giggled.

“I’ll be right back.” He lightly stated, giving her rear a small tap before he went to walk away again.

Kagome smiled, turning around to find a good spot to sit down for a moment. They could always just park it on the floor, which they may very well have to do given the trail they were currently on, but it was at least worth looking for a better spot.

They’d been heading uphill for a while already, and she was glad Inuyasha offered a break. She knew she’d been slowing the two of them down for days now, but it honestly couldn’t be helped. And, while she was aware he more than understood her current state, that didn’t mean she wanted to request more stops just because her legs and ass were on fire from the steep mountain they traveled on. If he hadn’t have brought it up, Kagome would have pushed through it all without complaint.

Down below, she could just barely hear the river. It was still so full from all the rain it had recently received, moving wildly along its course. As she traveled just a bit further, Kagome noticed a slim peek of rock through a break in the bushes and trees. It looked like a cliff that extended outward, overlooking the scenery - a wide one that had no previous accessibility until this point, and even now that accessibility was narrow. Still, if she were right, it would be the perfect spot to sit down and rest for a moment.

It wasn’t until she grew closer that she began to feel like something was off. It felt like an object was very subtly radiating demonic properties, yet it wasn’t a demon, itself, she was sensing. In essence, it was similar to Inuyasha’s blade, but for some reason, it also felt very different. Curious, Kagome pushed through the thick shrubbery to come out most of the way onto the cliff - extending longer than she’d anticipated. Immediately, her brown eyes landed on a man at the edge, facing away from her, his hair long, waving, darker than her own, and ruffling in the breeze. Despite the large amount of noise she’d made pushing through the bushes, the man hadn’t seemed to notice her, and if he had, he didn’t bother to turn around. Not straightaway. He was leisured as he slowly glanced over his shoulder, and it was only after the noise had completely died.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kagome said, trying not to stare into his red irises as he gradually turned around to fully face her. She’d never seen any quite like that. Not where the pupils were white. It was piercing. Intimidating. But, the gentle smile he wore contradicted that, and that was what she chose to focus on. “I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here.”

The man still didn’t speak. His thin lips didn’t even part as if he wanted to say something. He merely gazed on at her, his head leaning ever so slightly to the side.

His silence was unsettling. Worse, his never-dying grin was becoming so, as well. What once was gentle was now disturbing. With the way he stared at her, it would be normal to perceive it as him looking straight through her, but he wasn’t. Kagome could feel it. This man’s eyes were right on her, studying her, eating her up.

“Are you - are you okay?” She asked nervously, unable to help the way her fingers fidgeted. What she truly wanted to know was if this man was mentally present. He was standing unnervingly close to the ledge. One misstep, and he was gone.

To her surprise, he chuckled. His voice was deep, silky. “I can’t even remember the last time anyone’s bothered to ask me that.”

That, alone, had Kagome feeling substantially more uncomfortable. What had he been looking at before she came? What had been running through his mind? What was this man contemplating just before she disturbed his silence and came trudging through the thickets? Her eyes, yet again, fell down to the edge of the cliff just behind his heels, then shifted back up to his face, his mouth.

“If you’re worried I’m going to jump, don’t be.” He said kindly, showing a little more personality with the way he smirked and looked away in amusement. “That’s quite the opposite of what I want. Really, it’d be counterproductive.”

“Oh,” Kagome breathed. While she wanted to feel relieved, there was something off-putting about the man. Severely off-putting. What was the object that drew her attention? She saw nothing on his person. No weapon was belted to his hip, nor his thigh, nor his shoulder. He held nothing in his hands, nor was there a bag strapped to his back. Maybe, it was something else she sensed. Or, maybe she should heed the warning her gut was receiving and leave it alone, back away, find Inuyasha, and rest on the very far side of the mountain. “Well, I apologize for bothering you.”

“You don’t have to leave.” He said before she could even move.

“I have to go find my boyfriend. I promised him I wouldn’t walk off too far.” She quickly stated.

“Then, why did you come out here?”

Kagome tensed. “I - Well, it looked like a nice spot to rest, and the scenery would be pretty. I wasn’t aware you were here, though. The last thing we’d want to do is disturb you. Besides -”

“You want to look at the scenery?” The man offered, his smile widening an inch as he turned to look over the cliff, at the mountains opposite, the green, the trees, the blue sky. “Come. Look. No need to be shy, Kagome. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, but I -“ Kagome froze mid-step, turning around to exit through the bushes when it hit her. As a chill ran down her spine, she pushed herself to look back at the man, her lips still parted, her brows furrowed in question.

He chuckled. “You’re not as easy to find as I’d thought you’d be.”

“How do you know my name?” She asked apprehensively.

“Isn’t it funny, maybe even a little ironic, that I would figure out who you were before you would me?” He carelessly ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you even bother to ask what I looked like? Given you’re a conjurer, I’m assuming your vendetta is with me. Of course, that could very well be my arrogance talking.”

No. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be…

“Oh, there it is.” He laughed, chest and shoulders bouncing with the amusement. “The face of someone realizing just who they’re talking to. So, am I right? Was it me you were looking for?”

Kagome didn’t answer, an alarming sensation igniting in her core. Was this really Naraku? How did he know they were looking for him? Was it because she and Inuyasha had killed Moryomaru and it had gotten back to him? Or, had she been betrayed?

“You look to be in a state of shock. Disbelief? Kagome, it’s really me. Baby, honey, sweetums, pookie, I’m the man you’ve been searching for. In the flesh. Why don’t you seem happier?” He taunted jeeringly.

“Naraku?” She asked. She couldn’t help her skepticism. If she was in the presence of Naraku, why hadn’t she felt his demonic energy? Why hadn’t Inuyasha? It wasn’t a being she was sensing, but an object, and Inuyasha should have picked up his scent given she wasn’t all that far from where they’d parted. But, he hadn’t smelled anyone. Otherwise, the hanyou either would have warned her to be careful, or just purely wouldn’t have left her alone. This couldn’t be right. Naraku was supposed to be insanely powerful, so why wasn’t she feeling him. Was he able to conceal his powers? Was that possible?

“Good job, boo boo.” He said mockingly, smiling.

“But, how?”

“You killed Moryomaru. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Naraku shrugged his brows. “If you wanted my attention so bad, there were other ways to go about it. So, what’s up? What did you want to talk about?”

Kagome didn’t know how to read him. She was so thrown off, her perception of this reality was distorted. She needed to get a grip fast, she needed to draw her weapon, but she felt so solid, so confused, so afraid by not only his presence but his carefree demeanor.

“Come on, spit it out.” He wagged his hand in a rushing gesture. “God, for someone with a target on me, you sure seem scared. You sure you can do this?”

“Stop.” She finally spoke. “What are you doing? How are you talking so lightly right now?”

“What do you -“

“You know what I mean!” Kagome intentionally shouted, hoping to catch Inuyasha’s sensitive hearing. “You’re a mass murderer! You’re evil! You’ve been committing genocide, and you want to stand there spewing jokes at me as if nothing’s happened!”

“Yes, yes, yes, and yes.” Naraku nodded, agreeing to everything she’d just listed. “But, see the thing about being evil is, you don’t really care. I know that’s a difficult concept to grasp, what with the whole conscience and all.” He sneered with a light roll of his eyes.

“And, what for? What’s the purpose of all of this? World domination or something?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He curled his upper lip in slight disdain. “Sounds like a lot of responsibility. I would probably have to say power. And, recognition. Like, imagine another region saying, ‘Hey, you’ve heard of Naraku, right? Yeah, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him either.’ To see everyone fear me, to be unbeatable, to know that if I did someday want world domination, I could attain it with the flick of my wrist. Yeah, that’s probably what I’m shooting for.”

“Oh, screw you. You said that all as if you didn’t already know. As if you started all of this because you could.”

“That’s the thing, Kagome. I did. I had the power, so why shouldn’t I be the one to rise to the top? In doing that, I’d have to dispose of the waste, silence the challengers, make a few demonstrations to get the word out, so on and so forth. See, you conjurers are weird folk.” He pointed. “Acting like you’re better than anyone else. It doesn’t make sense to me. What’s that about?”

“We don’t kill for fun.” Kagome replied, a deep scowl forming on her face.

“Oh, no, see that’s not what I’m getting at. Sure, you gotta kill to survive sometimes, self defense, I get that. But, like, you guys act like you’re the peace keepers of the world just because you have the power to purify demonic entities. If you think about it, it’s kind of like you guys are acting like you’re the superior species. It’s the same shit.”

“It’s not the same.” She fired in defense.

“It kind of is.” He chuckled.

“You’re just trying to get me to react.” Kagome said, sighing out a deep breath to regain her bearings. “You really can’t put us on the same level as you. The only thing I heard you admit was that we’re competition. Our existence is a threat to yours.”

“Your existence,” He began, his tone taking a slightly darker note. “Is unnatural.”

She didn’t say anything, utilizing the silence to allow her bow to slide down her arm and into her hand. It would have been impossible not to notice, she was sure, but Naraku mentioned nothing about it, not even bothering to glance down at it in her grip.

“Humans aren’t purposed for supernatural abilities. You guys are the bottom feeders. In the game of the wild, you’re the boars intended for demons to hunt and cook over fires. And, yet here some of you are, popping out of the womb with spiritual powers as if you’re archangels placed on Earth to fight, good versus evil. Allow me to set you straight, Kagome, there is no competition between you and I. Whomever told you that was spitting a pathetic attempt at a lie that you idiotically fell for. If no one told you that and you truly feel I think highly of your kind, you’re delusional.”

“Then, what’s your reason for killing us all?”

“Simply because you’re no archangel. I am as close to a god as you’ll ever get, but you’re meant to join the fallen. So burn, Kagome. Burn.”

“You say it, but you don’t look like you mean that.”

“And, you want to pretend you know me well enough to make that determination? You didn’t even know what I looked like just minutes ago.”

“You’re putting up a front. I know how to read emotions, and you’ve got plenty. What you’re trying to do is conceal them all behind a wall of big talk. Yes, you think my kind is unnatural, but you honestly do think highly of us. I can say that with confidence, because if I recall correctly, you asked a certain conjurer to join your fight toward the very beginning. You thought combining your power with theirs would make you significantly stronger. If you really considered us bottom feeders, you’d have never contemplated such a suggestion. You’ve experienced years of struggle fighting against that conjurer, and have since deemed us all a threat. You’re afraid of us.”

Naraku laughed malevolently, almost appearing taken aback by her insinuation. “Fear. That’s bold to suggest since you’re currently too nervous to even pull an arrow from your quiver.”

“I am afraid.” Kagome admitted without apprehension. “My pride’s not the thing up for question right now.”

His smile was one of incredulity as his red eyes gave a small shift to the side. “Are you sure you want to do this? Fight me?”

“Like I have a choice.” She said through clenched teeth.

Naraku gestured to the ledge. “You do. Jump.”

“Never. I was sure I wanted to do this the moment I recognized the war you were waging. Now that you’ve killed Kikyo, there’s no way I’ll ever back down. You’re cruel, and -”

“Hey, woah, hey, hold on a second there, lady.” The demon braced his hands before him to silence her, pursing his lips for a brief second. “Look, I’m gonna be real with you, you don’t want to mention her. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that you can’t detect my presence. Where’s you’re half breed boy toy? Who knows, because he has no idea I’m here, right? It’s because I’m not. I’m not real. Naraku, he’s kind of - he’s having an -“ He delayed for a second, bobbing his head as he pondered the proper wording for the predicament. “- an episode at the moment. I’m a puppet. A puppet without any strings, if you will, created to complete this task and then - poof - I’m gone. There’s sort of a tether between my mind and his, and god forbid he’s actually paying attention right now. For your sake, you’d better hope he’s still underground. I mean, I’m not trying to play any sort of good guy - it’s nothing like that. You’re still gonna die today, I’m just trying to show a little mercy. Naraku hears her name, he’ll show up because he’ll be able to locate me real fucking fast, and in the mental state he’s currently in, he’ll literally rip you to pieces. Come on now, that’s no way for a girl with a pretty face to go.”

Kagome was grimacing, a deep frown of disgust pulling at her lips. “He kills her and then has the audacity to cry about it!?”

“Drop the subject.” He warned.

“So, you came to kill me in his stead? Just like he had another underling kill her? And, you want to tell me he isn’t afraid!?”

“He doesn’t like to waste his time squishing bugs.”

“Pathetic.” Kagome said, her voice low, demeaning. “How can anyone be expected to take him seriously as a powerful anything if he can’t even do his own bidding? Naraku is a joke. I’ll bet he’s broken inside. I’ll bet he’s fragile.”

“Stop while you’re still ahead.” The puppet had taken on a serious expression, dark lashes fluttering as he blinked his eyes.

“And, I’m supposed to be intimidated by you? You’re not even him.”

“Oh, no, I’m Naraku.” He corrected. “I’m just not him. Count your blessings. I look exactly like the guy, I can do everything he can do aside from multiply, and you really should learn to watch your mouth.” The puppet began to sprout additional limbs from his back, slithering, green tentacles appearing first, soon joined by long, thin legs looking to belong to a spider, planting themselves on the floor to elevate his body from the earth.

Spider-legged-tentacled creep. Koga had said it, but at the time, Kagome hadn’t known how to comprehend the snide remark at Naraku’s appearance. It was shocking, terrifying, but she knew she didn’t have time to stand there and gawk, to take him in, to actually acknowledge her fear.

As swiftly as she could, Kagome drew an arrow from her quiver, about to aim at the monster before she sensed a powerful energy budding from behind.

“Kagome, down!” Inuyasha ordered, and without a moment’s hesitation, knowing exactly what she was feeling, Kagome dropped her body to the hard surface of the rocky cliff. Air was pushed from her diaphragm from how heavy and quickly she’d dodged, but she remained low, feeling that swarm of demonic power blow directly over her, kick against the surface of the ground, and hit Naraku’s puppet.

With a hasty maneuver, Kagome rolled onto her back, lining the knock of her arrow up with the string of her bow to aim at the demon. It was an odd position, one she wasn’t used to, but she powered through it, pulling back her weapon and releasing to hit just as Inuyasha’s wind scar died away. It seemed as though a barrier had protected Naraku from Inuyasha’s attack, and she’d just caught the way the storm of wind rolled right over him, but her arrowhead stuck in the surface of the invisible barricade, penetrating just passed the tip.

She’d noticed the flinch of his brow, how it pinched inward an inch in observation before relaxing. Was he not expecting such quick reflexes from her? Or, was he not expecting her to make a dent at all?

“So, the half breed finally joins. How long were you listening from the sidelines?” Naraku’s puppet inquired, pretending his expression hadn’t accidentally betrayed him.

Inuyasha didn’t answer. His amber eyes were glowing with anger, his skin was blisteringly hot, and his lips twitched as his glower only managed to deepen. This bastard thought he’d catch Kagome while she was vulnerable and alone? This cheap, knock off, son of a bitch really thought he could kill her so easily? The hanyou was furious.

He’d picked up on Kagome’s voice the moment she’d started talking, and he was sure there was no one on the mountain with them. They were alone, and unless she was talking to a ghost, conversations shouldn’t have been had. Instantly, a bad feeling began to curdle in his stomach, so he headed back. He’d rather be safe than sorry. He’d decided to stay off to the side, listening, peeking through the cracks in the trees to get a glimpse at the man she was speaking to. It was easy to tell something was incredibly wrong. Inuyasha couldn’t smell him. He smelled wood, and just a small piece at that. It was very lightly - very lightly - tainted with Naraku’s scent, though. Something that smelled so far off, it was no wonder he didn’t catch it from down the trail. Then, he admitted to being Naraku, but he knew that couldn’t be the entire truth. He didn’t sense a person. He knew this was an illusion of some sort, but the minute Kagome’s life was so readily threatened was the minute Inuyasha’s anger rapidly bubbled. He was not only underestimating her so disrespectfully, but claiming he was going to put his hands on her. He’d told her to jump off the cliff. He’d claimed to offer her mercy. Inuyasha was going to personally see to this thing’s demise.

This was simply a new message that could be sent the real Naraku’s way. They killed Moryomaru. Now, they would be sending his puppet back in pieces. He was next.

“Tell me you’re okay.” Inuyasha said lowly, stepping through the thickets he’d torn apart with his attack. He didn’t bother taking his eyes off of the underling as he supported his sword in one hand, holding his free one out to help Kagome up.

“I’m fine.” She replied, pulling a new arrow from her quiver.

“Don’t want to bother with small talk? Fine.” Naraku smiled, his tentacles somehow growing. A thick one hastily flew upward to slam down between Inuyasha and Kagome, the two of them dodging but ending up separated.

“Inuyasha, aim at the arrow in his barrier!” Kagome instructed.

“Got it!” The hanyou shouted, dodging another mad tentacle before swinging his sword in another wind scar. Naraku laughed, watching the attack yet again slide over his blockade, missing the arrow entirely.

“What the hell was that!?” He guffawed, his laugh almost choked on as he sputtered to a halt, feeling the disruption of a sharp tear in his wall poking his arm. Another arrow had gotten ninety-percent through, stopping just at the feathers and piercing the surface layer of his flesh through his long-sleeved shirt.

“A distraction.” Kagome stated, pulling another arrow.

The puppet smiled again, but it was daring. Challenging. Kagome could quickly tell he was becoming irate, the way his jaw flexed conveying a lethal threat. She sensed the danger about to come her way, but she fell for his ploy. Naraku sent an appendage shooting at her right, but when she went to swerve left, she was struck by a tendril she hadn’t thought to expect. It sent her flying back onto the ground, a cough sputtering from her mouth from the force, but the puppet failed to pin her. He had lost his grip in the moment, and Kagome rolled away. Still, it would have been impossible of her to get to her feet in time, and again, his tentacle dropped on her, trying to wrap around her waist.

His grip was feeble, sliding away altogether as Inuyasha provided a destructive attack right against the barrier. Kagome looked across the way to see his Tessaiga glowing red, the skin of his face reflecting the bright color, worsening the shade of the fury he radiated. His blade sliced through the barricade, decimating it with the blow, and Naraku’s puppet stood there, stunned.

“Fancy trick you got there.” He growled. “A sword that can break through just about anything, huh?”

“Just about.” Inuyasha said in return, his tone gruff.

Naraku didn’t bother to construct another barrier. If they really wanted to think it would be that simple to take him down, he’d be glad to show them the contrary. To his right, Inuyasha stood with his sword at the ready, the red aura dwindling away to reveal its original appearance. To his left, Kagome stood with an arrow aimed directly at him. She’d shrugged off her backpack in the slim moment his attention was off of her, most likely for better movement control, but the puppet couldn’t help but cock a grin.

He moved swiftly, throwing tendrils of his body outward to distract his opponents. He accepted the hits, laughing tauntingly as he raised his hand and extended it in the direction of the half breed. His demonic powers soared outward, clutching the unsuspecting man in a telekinetic and vise grip, throwing Inuyasha to the ground with a loud thud.

Kagome was trapped, caged, and she didn’t know which appendage to aim at first. It was like they were trying to grab her, closing in to make it harder for her to fight back. It was causing her to panic, to second guess her actions, to back step, and his villainous laughter helped none. She’d heard the loud gasp of Inuyasha colliding with the rocky floor, her panic growing when she called out to him and didn’t receive a response.

Spotting an opening, Kagome aimed between the tentacles, straight at Naraku’s body. One of the slithering things was beginning to snake around her, but despite her trepidation and how badly she wanted to jump away, she stayed perfectly still, waiting for a smidgen of a clearer shot. On an exhale, Kagome released her arrow, her spiritual power demolishing a portion of Naraku’s ribcage, his arm, the tentacles around her dying off, and she quickly jumped out of those that hadn’t yet eroded, shaking them off and scampering toward Inuyasha only to halt halfway.

The hanyou was sitting on his knees, pushing himself back to a standing when his attention flew from Kagome to the monster’s incarnation. Kagome had shot him, had used her powers and blown off a part of his side, but at an alarming rate, Naraku was regenerating.

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t impressive.” The puppet spoke, and he almost seemed humored. “I’ll admit, you’re putting up more of a fight than I’d expected of a little girl and a mutt. Bet you didn’t see this coming, though. I’m not real, remember? Your conjurer strength can’t just deteriorate my arm and think it’ll hurt, I’ll scream a little, fall to my knees, and then you’ll be good to serve the finishing attack. It’s gonna take a little more than that, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby!” Kagome demanded, quickly pulling an arrow and shooting it at his body. It nailed the same arm, bringing an annoyed groan from his throat as his skin crumbled, but so rapidly did it heal.

“That make you feel powerful?” He mocked. “Get your point across? ‘Don’t call me baby!’” Naraku echoed in a high-pitched voice. “Stupid ass bitch. You’re not fucking listening, are you?”

Before her very eyes, the puppet’s body seemed to be transforming. More tentacles, vines, slithering demon tails grew from his flesh, entangling around his lower body and plunging into the earth. He was surrounded by a mountain of crawling parts that threatened them and protected his core. Roots began sprouting all around them, loosening the ground that supported the cliff, causing their footing to quake as they stumbled and dodged what grew.

“Kagome, come here!” Inuyasha called, wanting her next to him. He couldn’t protect her this way, he couldn’t adhere to her safety when they were divided, and he couldn’t predict what sort of move this monster was going to make next. In his peripheral vision, he could see the conjurer trying to follow his command, but the puppet was teasing her with his roots, pushing her back. When she finally got over them, Naraku slammed a tendril down in between to keep the two lovers separated.

Ferociously, Inuyasha raised his sword to attack, slashing it down in a formidable wind scar that hit the creature dead on, damaging its faux body. It was insane, the speed at which it regenerated, but the hanyou noticed a small part of his abdomen piecing together just a little slower. That must have been his weak point. That must have been why the demonic parts were protecting his stomach.

“Alright, you’re getting a little annoying.” Naraku commented, swiftly snaking multiple vines around him.

Inuyasha knew it was a distraction, the one that stabbed through his left arm, so he growled and clenched his jaw, but that was the only reaction he allowed himself to give, never taking his eyes off of the damned puppet. Kagome shot another arrow, piercing Naraku’s chest, and as quickly as he could to add his own power to the mix, to end this, Inuyasha swung his sword. His attack rumbled dangerously, shooting over the puppet’s body, but his core was protected in the nick of time.

He hadn’t noticed the tendril around his ankle. He hadn’t noticed the knot it had created. And, it was too late to try and cut himself free before the tentacle yanked his foot back and sent his body crashing forward to the ground. Inuyasha had lost his grip on his sword then, the metal clanking against the rock as he was lifted upward by another root that circled around his waist. He was trying to fight, to free himself, but the root was difficult to slice through with his nails. The ground came flying at his face before he could process as he was wasn’t just dropped, but thrown down heavily, the world going silent and black.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome cried, noticing how he hadn’t attempted to get up or reassure her. The hanyou laid still on the ground, a hand beside his face that neither twitched nor reached for his sword.

It was difficult to focus on what was happening with all the movement around her. So desperately did she want to sprint to her hanyou, but at the moment, she absolutely couldn’t. The second she let her guard down would be the second Naraku would win. It all happened too quickly, though. She’d decided to aim at his body, trying not to be distracted by the wriggling roots and appendages, but just before she could release her shot, something large grabbed around her waist, yanking her back so she’d lose her handling on her weapons, and then thrusting her forward and off of her feet. Kagome was ensnared, the tentacle progressively growing tighter as it wrung around her, pulling her closer to the puppet’s side.

Her groan was pleading, and she pushed fruitlessly at the green flesh around her stomach with her empty hands. It hurt. The closer she got to his burning, red eyes and sadistic smile, the more terrified and panicked Kagome grew.

“So, what now, conjurer?” Naraku asked, hovering her near him. He liked the tiny whimpers that escaped her throat. He liked the way her brown eyes were glimmering with urgency. “Come on, I’m within reach. Now’s your chance. Kill me. Save yourself and your precious mutt.”

She was trying. Kagome was damn near outwardly begging for her powers to work with her. Just once - just fucking once - come through her hands, her skin, anything. Follow the wave through the surface of her flesh. But, nothing was coming. The puppet squeezed her waist tighter and Kagome cried out, but still she tried to utilize that point in her body. She could feel something there. She could feel her powers bubbling where she was being strained, and she pushed, and pushed.

Let it out! Let it out, little bird!

“What a shame.” Naraku lamented. “Who’s pathetic?”

Kagome didn’t have time for this. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, let him win. Reaching behind her, she grabbed an arrow, swiveling the head forward in her fingers and jabbing it into Naraku’s neck.

The demon smiled. The girl was too flustered to apply enough force into her attack. Her powers ran deep, but just an inch further and she would have actually struck his “heart,” protected within his abdomen. It was too bad she’d fallen short. He waited as his body regenerated, plucking the arrowhead from his throat with a disturbed grunt.

“I don’t bleed.” He said, jerking her forward to hover just a couple of inches from his face. His tone died down to a gruff whisper, red eyes staring directly into her stricken irises. “But, you do. Don’t you? How should I do it? Should I make you cry first? Or, would you prefer something quick? Either works for me.”

“You won’t win this.” Kagome whispered, trembling. She was petrified, her heart was pounding, and a thick lump formed in her throat as she felt like the worst was about to happen. It was weird, the way fear would sit in your chest. It made you feel light but jittery, like you should scream to release some of that sensation but you physically couldn’t.

“Famous last words.” Naraku said, stroking the back of his finger over Kagome’s cheek. “How could you possibly take on the real thing if you couldn’t even defeat a puppet, though?”

No. He wasn’t right. They were going to win this.

Weren’t they?

Naraku was moving her over the edge of the cliff, and she fidgeted, gasped, shuddered.

Kagome wasn’t done fighting. She hadn’t seen this through yet. This was just a threat, and she was going to pull out of it. But, why did she get the leadened feeling that she wasn’t?

Why did Kagome suddenly feel so afraid that she couldn’t even breathe anymore?

She heard a sigh, a groan, and Kagome’s attention shifted to Inuyasha as he was coming to, blinking his golden eyes open as he pushed himself up onto his forearms.

Inuyasha was trying to reattain his bearings. His head was throbbing, and blood had gotten into his eye as he opened it, burning. He was still being restrained, his lower body pinned to the ground from the hips down. The battle wasn’t over. How long was he out? Why didn’t he hear Kagome? Where was Kagome?

He blinked some more, stabilizing his lungs as he pushed past the bleary state he was in. At the ledge, held over in a twisted grasp of tendrils, he found her. She wasn’t entirely clear, but he could make out the setting.

And, his stomach dropped.

His vision settled then, and Inuyasha stared on as Naraku grinned, holding Kagome’s life over the edge of the cliff.

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#man #talk about a cliff hanger #lololol don't hate me #I had to make the joke before anybody else did #anyway #also #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfiction #monster #akitokihojo

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Din Djaren x force sensitive reader - A Moment Of Bliss

Summary: You’re trying to meditate but your boys have other plans for you.

Warning: child being cute, fluff, SMUT, Din being the best space husband

Side note: wrote this before I learned the child’s name is Grogu, that is all.

Masterlist

You and your small clan of two have been stationed on a beautiful rolling grassland of a planet, ginormous stocky umbrella like trees sprouting from the flat land every couple miles from one another. They’re honestly quite the sight to behold, and something that you’re grateful for considering there’s no sand in sight. Honestly the most blessed thing of all that this wonderous planet has to offer, you can’t say you’re a real fan of the desert by any means.

Although you’re not exactly fond of the real reasoning why you’re here, it just so happened that Mando had gotten himself into some trouble when he captured the last bounty. A trafficking lord who just wasn’t as clever as he thought, earning himself some chains and a go around in a fun little thing called carbonite.

Nonetheless, his minions had tracked you two down after the bounty had been cashed in, slightly damaging the Razor Crest before Mando was able to lose them with some quick witted maneuvering. But you’re certain they’re still hunting you guys somewhere close by in the galaxy.

So for the time being, Din has decided for your band of three to lay low on this beautiful planet until he’s sure that the petty criminals have given up, or until you both get bored enough and decide to finish them off yourselves.

Which is all fine for you, what could be better then a tiny vacation away from shady scavengers and untrustworthy pimps? Nothing really, so to make the most out of your fortunately unfortunate escape/ temporary vacation. You’ve chosen to spend your afternoon helping the child practice his growing powers. Although it appears the little guy is more interested in a shiny purple crystal that he found minding its business on the gravely ground.

Sitting yourself in a criss cross position upon the soft grass, you close your eyes as you prepare to meditate when suddenly the child makes the most adorable babbling sound, with an amused smile you open your eyes to look down at him, “I’ll let that slide.” He gurgles while tilting his head to the side, his big green ears flopping ever so slightly as he possibly considers your comment.

Watching him decide to sit down and instead play with the purple crystal, earns a little smirk upon your face as you shut your eyes once again. This time he doesn’t do anything to break your concentration, so taking the blessed opportunity you’re finally able to zone in on the force. Laying your arms onto your folded legs you open your palms, feeling the world around you, sensing the energy flowing in as you begin to rise from the ground.

The child watches in silent awe as small fist sized rocks begin to float and flow in circles around you, your contact with the grass no more. For a couple minutes you’re able to sustain your deep meditation, then a tiny little coo is heard from below as it shuffles in the dirt. You almost lose focus at the intruding noise, but your zoned out enough to come back to the welcoming bleary void of the force.

Another couple minutes go by before an adorable noticeably louder coo pricks at your ears, letting out a huff, you remain in the air, the pebbles and rocks around you keeping themselves suspended just the same. You focus even harder, letting yourself feel weightless and in control as you levitate above the grass, the child deciding to coo and babble once more.

“Shut up you’re gonna break my concentration,” You whisper softly as you carefully continue to levitate mere inches off of the ground. Just then the child suddenly lets out a loud messy sneeze, your face falling in irritation, “Aaaand it’s gone.” You deadpan before falling on your butt with a hmph, the little guy giggling in amusement. You fake glare at him before falling back into the soft grass as you look up to the blue sea of sky when suddenly a dark shinning shadow towers above you.

“How’s the meditation going?” Wonders Din as he joins your little party from where he once was, tending to the ship that is.

Sighing, you pull yourself up from the grass and into a proper seated position as you turn your attention to Din, “Not terribly.” You reply with a love struck grin as you lightly pat the grassy spot next to you, “Sit with me?” He looks at the area before bringing himself down to your level.

“Couldn’t hurt to relax for a minute.” Inquires Din as you roll your eyes.

“We’re being hunted Din, I think this little get away vacation of ours calls for a bit more then just a minute of relaxation. Don’t you agree?” He turns his helmet to you, the black T of his armored face showing you back your own distorted reflection.

“Gives me time to work on the ship.”

Nudging his arm that’s mere inches from your own you look at him with a smile, “Okay so that’s how it’s gonna be, you’re just glad to be working on the ship?” You muse with a fake scoff while shaking your head at him, “I should have known.”

“What? No that’s not...that’s not what I meant Y/N.” He rushes worriedly as you scoot yourself closer to him.

Softly chuckling at his quick reaction, you lean into his side as you casually lace his gloved hand with your own, “I know what you meant. But just cause I’m me, I’d rather have you in my arms then fiddling with that hunk of metal.” You explain before setting your chin against his beskar covered shoulder. You can’t see it, but he’s smiling underneath that helmet of his, looking deeply into your loving gaze.

“Likewise.”

Snaking your arms around the one closest to you, he ever so slightly leans into your touch, “Please take off your helmet so I can see those enticing dark eyes of yours. Please?” You urge with a light squeeze of his arm, “I can’t exactly kiss you like this...no ones around to see anything....and anyways we’re married so I automatically get a free pass.”

He gently squeezes your hand before reaching his arms up to his head, you hear a soft click and a whoosh of air as he pulls off his helmet. A blissful smile breaks out onto your beaming face as his fluffy brown locks appear before you, styled every which way as they embrace their new freedom.

He sets his shiny silver helmet to the side before pulling off his gloves as his dark irises find your face, you’re unabashedly biting your lip while you take in every single feature of his handsome face, “It’s a good thing you wear that helmet of yours,” You lean in close, “cause all the ladies would be fighting each other for a chance to get with you. There’s no doubt in my mind.” You muse as the most adorable of smiles graces his stunning features while he leans his head against yours, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I have a great suspicion that you’d fight them before they even had a chance to breath in my direction.” Retorts Din as his hands gently grasp your own.

“What? No way.....okay....maybe yes.” He smiles brightly before pulling back, only to let go of your hands as he engulfs you into a giant hug. You quickly squeeze back as you push him into the grass, laughing as the both of you fall onto the soft earth.

Your eyes find his shining dark ones as you lean in close, “We should stay here, disappear from the rest of the galaxy and go M.I.A forever.” He kisses you in reply, his lips are soft and inviting as he holds you impossibly close, the scruff of his day old unkept facial hair scratching your cheek.

He slowly pulls away, earning a pout from you once he’s able to see your face again, “That does sound appealing, but I know you’d get bored with the calmness. You like adventure too much to stay in one spot for very long.” He says with a knowing look as he leans in to plant soft kisses over your cheeks, “I know you Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes you lean down to kiss his nose, “That you do, Din. Sometimes annoyingly so.” You reply before breaking out into an abrupt laugh as you watch him study your face lovingly.

Suddenly you feel a little nudge by your boot, shifting your gaze away from Din you look over to your feet where the little womp rat is. He’s smiling adorably as he babbles some more, stretching his little arms out for one of you to take, making a cute grabby motion with his hands.

Heeding to his silent yearning you sit up to gently pick up the beaming child, “Oh and how could I forget you, my little green bean....you can have all the cuddles too.” He squeals in delight as you hold him close in your lap, Din scoots over so his head is by your thighs as he gently pets his little green son on his wrinkly head.

Running your fingers through Din’s helmet hair you make a funny face at the child causing him to laugh, “I guess staying here for another week couldn’t hurt. I’ve got my two favorite people in the whole galaxy....no need to rush things.” Mutters Din as he looks to you with the biggest heart eyes while you stick your tongue out at the child.

“I’d like that very much, our little green boy....you and me, alone, a ship all to ourselves...no one to bother us.” You add, a suggestive tone laced throughout your sly voice, Din’s eyebrows raise in interest at your intriguing words, much to your amusement.

“And I have time to work on my ship.” Replies Din, side eyeing you to see your reaction to his lackluster comment.

Shaking your head you lightly tug at his tangled hair while he laughs, “You little shit. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you...you fucker.” A giggle escapes from your lips as you try and keep a serious face, Din attempting to do the same, though you’re both about to crack.

The baby starts to babble, as he wiggles his little body from side to side in an attempt at gaining back the both of your wandering attentions. Not being able to handle the sheer silliness in the atmosphere you let out a loud burst of laughter, Din following suite.

You watch as the sides of his eyes crinkle in joy, his belly rippling with each new inhalation and exhalation of air, “Din, would you like to see what we’ve been practicing on?” You ask as he finally calms down again.

“You’ve been practicing with him?” He asks with a smile, “I’d love to.”

Turning to the child in your lap you grab his sides before gently setting him onto the ground, “Okay little guy, remember you’re training....what we we’re doing yesterday. First we stick our hand out....and then we focus really hard on wanting to lift up the rocks. Okay.” The child coos in excitement as he lifts his clawed hand out to mirror your own, “Now close your eyes and feel...feel the power around you, the wind, the earth...call to it, let it flow.”

He suddenly lets out a little tut of determination as he does his best to focus, Din watches silently in anticipation for what may happen next. A beaming smile breaks out onto your face as a couple tiny pebbles begin floating off of the grass, the child lets out an excited babble as he celebrates his achievement, “You’re doing fantastic my little love, I’m so proud of you.” He coos even more as you gush in amazement, the pebbles falling to the grass as he gets distracted by your words of encouragement.

“But can Y/N lift some little stones?” Jokes Din as he gently nudges your arm, you raise an eyebrow to him before using the force to lift him a couple inches off of the grass. His eyes go wide for a second, clearly not expecting you to mess with him before you drop him onto the soft grass once again.

He lands with a dramatic huff, you look to him and your heart skips a beat as he eyes you up like a wolf to his prey, you swallow just as he suddenly tackles you into the soft green grass. You fall back with a yelp as your Mandalorian pins you to the ground, his beaming face so close to your own as he stares into your eyes with his dark ones.

“You think you’re real funny, hmm Y/N?” His voice is low and husky, his breath fanning your smirking face as he attempts to take the upper hand, “Cause that kinda hurt my arm.”

You simply roll your eyes, “I’ve seen you get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, you reckless man. Tough it out my love, you don’t want to make a bad impression on the little guy now do yo...” His soft lips are suddenly on yours as he shuts you up with his soft plush lips. The child waddles over towards the Razor Crest, uninterested with training and with whatever wrestling game you and Din are becoming entangled in.

You smile into the kiss as Din rests his weight in between your opened thighs and stomach, he rests his forearm upon the grass as his other hand caresses the side of your face. You bask in his body as your hands feel through his soft wavy locks, he moans into your mouth at the pleasant sensation, earning an amused chuckle from you.

Your opened mouth giving him enough space to stick his tongue into it as he teases you, you answer back just the same, your tongues dancing in the dark as he consumes you. He feels rather nice, you can’t help but to begin feeling a bit heated in your nether regions from the close proximity in this compromising position he has you in. Your body erupts with electricity as he starts to grind into you, the slow small friction against your clothed womanhood sending you into another realm of pleasure, and he’s not even inside you yet.

“Right in the grass?” You mumble against his lips as he bucks against your hips, the sensation driving you insane.

Knowing exactly how it’s making you squirm, he feels rather proud of himself, “Ships too far.” Mutters Din between kisses as he reaches down to unclasp his belt.

Your lips stay locked, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as Din tugs down your own pants. He sits up and quickly makes haste with discarding his armored torso, flinging off top clothing and undershirt as you lift up your arms for him to pull off yours. The fabric falling to the grass as the both of you take in each other’s nearly naked bodies, your thin undergarments the only pieces keeping you away from total bliss.

He rests himself upon his bent knees while dark pleading irises stare into your own, he’s asking silent permission to disrobe you of all clothing. A smile breaks out upon your flushed face, nodding in a silent yes, his eyes flash with excitement and lust as he reaches over to tug at the edges of the tight fabric, he gently pulls off your bra. Your breasts bounce once they’re free from their constraints, Din’s brows raising in excited surprise before leaning down to kiss each one before he captures your lips with his once more.

Din you have no idea what you do to me.

Deciding you’d quite like it if both of you were naked, you pull away, Din’s face following yours as he pouts. In reply to his protests you fall back into the grass, “My undies aren’t gonna take themselves off.” You muse with a lustful gaze upon your man, god you already feel so wet, Din’s most obviously hard and you’re so ready for him.

His cheeks are flushed as he gently grasps the hem of your underwear on either side of your hips, you lift your bum up when he slides them down your legs, abandoning them in the grassy field. Your heart soars when he leans down to plant a kiss on the inside of your bare thigh, then another and another as he trails up to your knee. He pulls away to look at you once again, his face a mask of pure love and adoration as he shimmies out of his bulging boxers.

Biting your lip, you lean up to meet his lips, he kisses you deeply as he rests his calloused hands into each one of your knees, ever so carefully he parts them. Your nerves sending a wave of heat into your core for the anticipation of what’s to come, both literally and figuratively. If not for the current events you’d be laughing, your wandering thoughts quickly dissipating away once he pushes you back so that you’re laying in the soft earth as he locks eyes with you.

Giving you the most beautiful of smiles he kisses your abdomen, then below your bellybutton, up to your stomach, and in between your breasts. He’s hovering annoyingly close to you. You arch into him, the skin of his torso meeting your exposed womanhood, a moan escapes him from the wet contact against his stomach. You let out a breathy laugh as he squeezes and kneads your left breast, his mouth consuming the other one, his tongue working wonders as he sucks and licks at your perked nibbles.

Your hands tangle in his wavy dark hair as he continues his pleasurable assault in your breasts, his fingers may cause a little discomfort as he squeezes but you’re enjoying it too much to give a shit. His hot wet tongue dances in circles around your skin, he lets go of your breast to then lick up your turned neck. Doing everything in your power to keep it all inside, you bite your lip in an attempt at suppressing a moan, your voice breaking free once his hardened member rubs past your entrance without warning.

“There’s that pretty voice of yours.” Mutters Din before capturing his lips with yours, his hands held firmly against the ground as he holds himself up inches from you.

How annoying you can be, Din. Just get closer you idiot.

You feel so warm and fuzzy, his body mere inches from your wanting skin, your legs already open and ready as his length stays firm only centimeters away from your lower abdomen. Tugging at his hair, he parts from your lips as a confused expression crosses his features, you simply chuckle, “Stop making me wait my love, I’m ready for you.” His eyes closing in bliss as you purr sweetly into his ear, “I need you in me, now.”

Heeding to your straightforward command, he reaches a hand down as he guides his hardened cock to your awaiting entrance. He rubs it against your clit in a teasing manner before he slowly pushes into you, your hands flying to his muscular back as your walls adjust to his length. With a soft moan from his sweet lips, he fills you entirely, for a couple seconds does he pause. Letting himself enjoy the sensation of his cock inside you as he presses butterfly kisses all over your face.

Yes, fucking finally.

Not being able to stand it anymore, you buck your hips into him, this giving Din the cue to start working his magic. He completely pulls out of you before slamming himself into your slickness once again, a gasp leaving your lips as he does it again and again and again. Until he decides to keep himself flush against you, his new close contact vigorous thrusts sending more waves of euphoria coursing throughout your entire vessel. All that’s heard in the breeze is the sounds of your moaning and the slabs of skin on skin as Din pumps relentlessly into you.

You’re honestly rather glad that those bastard scavengers ran you into hiding on this planet, it had been a while since you and Din had had any real intimate time together and this was the perfect opportunity. Humming in pleasure, you kiss his scruffy cheek as his head falls into the crook of your neck, “Din I fucking love you so much, you have no idea.” More deep strokes are thrust into you as he kisses the side of your head.

“Y/N ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.....” His all he manages to mutter as another satisfied moan escapes him. You chuckle at how absolutely adorable and hot he’s acting right now, another thrust into you emitting a moan from your lips. He feels so good with how he’s treating you in this special moment, your two bodies colliding like stars in the sky.

You suck in a breath as a warmness builds in the pit of your stomach, you can feel your orgasm slowly rising with each and every pump into you. Din hums as he pushes you into the grass even more now, you can tell from how much more rigorous his thrusts are becoming that he’s on the edge of paradise.

And soon after he grunts, does he spill into you, the new added sensation enough to drive you wild with bliss. Your own high finally reached as your body shakes with euphoria and the last sloppy thrusts that he’s giving you freely.

A whimper escapes from your mouth as he enjoys himself inside of you for a couple more seconds before he slowly pulls out and flops by your side on the soft grass. He’s breathing heavily as you let the cool breeze fan over your sensitive swollen womanhood, the wind doing wonders for your hot sweaty skin as you try and calm down from your buzz. You close your eyes with a satisfied smile upon your content face as Din turns over to you with an equally joyous grin.

You listen and feel as he scoots himself against your side so that he can rest his arm over your stomach, his scruffy face inches from your cheek as he gently kisses you before resting his head against your temple. You lift your arm up to lay it over top of his as he hugs your side, doing his best to keep you as close to him as physically possible.

A pleasant sigh departs from his pouty lips, fanning the side of your face as you smile, “Y/N, you are very special to me...I just thought that you should know. Incase you ever forget.”

A small chuckle escapes you at his soft words, “Din I don’t think I could ever forget, you mean more to me then all the stars in the sky...more than the most valuable gems to ever exist or even my lightsaber.” He kisses your temple once again, “I believe the force has brought me to you my love, and I’m forever grateful for that.” You voice is a soft whisper on the breeze, yet he hears it all the same.

“Y/N I love you more than life, you are too sweet my beloved.” Your heart skips at his truthful reply, a small lump in your throat forming as he presses his nose against your hairline.

You turn your head to see his face better, he locks eyes with your own as a shy smile appears on his face, “Din Djaren you’re going to make me cry, shut up.” You muse with a quick kiss to his lips, looking into his dark brown irises like they hold all the answers to the universe.

He smiles against your cheek, kissing you there once more, “Never.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x you #din djaren x you #din djarin #din djaren x reader #din djaren imagine #the child #grogu #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

Text

The worst possible thing.

*stares at this long and hard.* Fine!

@kingcreativityau you know who is responsible for what comes next.

Yes @hunter-with-a-tardis I'm looking at you

Janus was pacing the floor. He didn't like this one bit.

“What's taking him so long?” he wondered aloud.

It was a rhetorical question and the sides who were sitting here waiting couldn’t answer him even if it wasn't. No one liked this plan. It hadn't even been a plan. It was half an idea Logan and Janus would have dismissed at once if Virgil hadn’t been in the room and overheard Janus mumble about it. Harnessing Virgil’s given powers and undo what king had done.

It was too risky to even consider. Janus didn’t need Virgil to point out all the ways it could go very wrong. To everyone’s shock Virgil came with a solution though. He'd take king up on his offer and finish the gallery, ask him to teach him to get control over the shadows. If king took a liking to teaching, which Virgil thought he might, he'd keep doing it and eventually Virgil could lift the curses and they all could get back to helping Thomas.

Janus had wanted to argue. Sure king enjoyed instructing others in skills he felt more proficient at. He recalled King teaching him to duel not too long ago. He also remembered what happened after the student caught up though. King storming away and then, after he'd managed to get out of king's obstacle… how he'd been cornered, the panic the punishment for daring to upset the king in any way. No this was their mess. Virgil was not yet on king's bad side. That was a card they couldn't waste on something that risky.

But Logan had been writing and Janus was convinced he'd say something similar. And Virgil was more likely to listen to Logan so he'd waited.

He should have known Logan would never just dismiss any idea out of hand.

Somehow they'd all agreed to see if Virgil could get a first lesson. And soon Virgil left them to practice with the king every day. Which should be a comfort right? King clearly enjoyed the activity and he was not suspicious of anything. That was exactly what had Janus worried now.

Because king wasn't the only one enjoying the lessons. Sure Virgil still seemed terrified of the man, but whenever he returned he was deep in thought, sometimes with a small smile on his face. The one that said: I just did something right.

He'd been looking at them oddly too, like he was figuring out a complicated puzzle.

Something was off but Virgil refused to talk about it. Something about a promise he made.

A click of a pen echoed through the mostly empty space and Janus' head snapped up.

Logan needed his attention.

He was scribbling down something as fast as he could and handed it over. Janus read it over. It was a long ramble, but it came down to one thing.

“I do have faith in Virgil. It's king I’m worried about. One perceived slight and…”

Janus touched the mark on his face. The memory of it's creation very vivid in his mind.

“Aw, you do care,” Virgil's voice came from behind him. Janus whirled around.

Something about what he saw took him back, to a time when he had two misfit friends who didn't hate him. Before the fight.

Maybe if was that mischievous smirk or the way he carried himself as if he couldn't care less what other people thought. Except now he really seemed to mean it.

His clothes weren’t back to normal by any means. They were upgraded though. From a dark version of Roman's original outfit to one reflecting the fitting in upgrade. Except Virgil wore a few medals pinned on his vest. As well as applying Virgil's black and purple with white detailing color scheme.

He also wore a dark purple hooded cape instead of a sash.

Most startling of all, he looked genuinely comfortable with it all.

“Virgil? Is that you?” Janus asked.

Virgil nodded, still smirking. “Indeed it is,” the deep terrifying voice of the King boomed and suddenly he stood behind him hands delicately resting on the youngest side’s shoulders.

But Virgil didn’t even flinch.

“Dear Anxiety made so much progress, I felt he deserved a promotion. I offered him the title of Prince,” king summoned a dark crown in his hand only to immediately clench his fist and make the image disappear. “but he is so loyal to those he considers friends he wouldn't even consider to take my light half’s title,” King praised fondly. He stroked Virgil's hair for a moment. “So he is my head counselor now on top of creative minister. And you should all be happy to know, he made a plea on your behalf.” King waved his hand and suddenly Patton was six years old.

“Wha… I can talk?” Logan gasped astonished.

“You explain the conditions to them. I have to get back to work.” And just like that, King was gone.

“You did it?” Janus asked perplexed this was too good to be true.

“King did. Don't take his generosity for granted,” Virgil warned sternly.

“Virgil, kiddo…”

“You shall not address me like that!” Virgil hissed, his voice booming, twisted and sinister, a dark aura flaring up, making them all step backwards in shock.

Virgil took a deep breath. “Names are for friends and allies. After what I heard… you’ll have to earn my trust back,” he explained a little calmer. They all froze in horror. King told him… of course he did. He'd have to be a fool not to.

“These gifts have conditions attached. Morality you can get back to your own age with good behavior, the reverse is true as well though. Logic your voice can not speak ill of the king and what you do say about him will find it’s way to us.

Any and all communication to the king must go through me. You remember my shadow?” the creature in question appeared next to Virgil.

“He'll… assist you when I am with the king. Ask him if you need to ask me or king something. Oh and fair warning….” Suddenly they all fell to the ground. Crushed by guilt and fear and desperation.

“I’ll do anything to protect Thomas from having to live without us ever again. I won‘t permit you to anger the king. Understood?”

They all nodded as they whipped at their tears.

“Good. Dismissed.” When they looked up Virgil was gone. Only his shadow remained. The creature stared back at them looking heartbroken. “I’m sorry,” it whispered.

“This… might be the worst possible thing,” Logan muttered as he helped Patton up. While the two oldest sides discussed their situation Janus stared in horror at the tragic looking shadow.

How could he have let this happen?

Janus opened his eyes. He was sweating, his heart was racing. What was real, what was a dream? He looked around. He was in his room. He got up to his knees and tapped a rhythm neither he or his neighbor had heard in years. Virgil used to wake up from nightmares like this. Not sure about reality and scared to leave his room. So they came up with a system. Notes weren't an option when you didn't want to turn on the light and alert Remus someone was awake to play with him. So they made up their version of Morse code.

‘What is going on' was always the start of such a conversation. It was just a long series of rapid light knocks. The first reaction, ‘I hear you' was a flat palm against the door. Then you wait for the other to respond. Virgil's response was quicker than he expected.

‘Patton. Small. Logan. Silent. Twins. One.’

Janus nodded. He hadn't dared to hope that all of it was a dream.

‘you?’ he asked. Though he doubted if Virgil could know what to tell him to assure him he wasn't currently being tutored by king. ‘Scared. Confused. Angry. Sad.’

Janus bit his lip. Virgil didn't use the code for pupil. If there was any real plan like in his nightmare Virgil would mention it. He’d been on the other side of these conversations often enough. Yes, everything was… well not fine but not as horrible as he'd feared. All he had to do to keep his dream from happening was not leave Virgil alone with the king. And… maybe figure out how to tell Virgil what had happened all these years ago.

Janus got ready to knock. There was a knock that meant to convey empathy. To be a comforting reminder that Virgil was not alone. But halfway through he remembered another pattern. One Virgil would always close the conversation with. It was almost an alternative for goodnight in these conversations. But it meant ‘Sorry’. Janus' scales stung with the thought of that word. But if he knocked the pattern… it wasn't the same right?

He took a deep breath and started out with: ‘Thanks.’ He readied his hand it was just three knocks long… But the very thought was agony

‘Welcome. Good night.’

Janus sighed as he heard the reply. Perhaps another time.

‘Good night.’

@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @antiredhuman

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #king creativity #kingcreativityau

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libradusk · 4 years

Text

Morning Embers | Rex

Word Count: 4.6k

Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader

Summary: The morning after your unexpected ‘activities’ on Felucia leads both you and Rex towards a string of confessions you should have stumbled down long ago.

Warnings/Content: AFAB reader (though no gender is explicitly mentioned), smutty soft sex, admission of feeeeeelings and morning-after anxieties, a much more subby Rex than in the previous chapter (I mean...)

a/n: This is set during the events of “Bounty Hunters” from season 2 of TCW, except instead of fighting pirates the reader and Rex end up boning down.

Follow up chapter to this

It's the morning sun that first leads you to stir. It slips its finger-like rays through the cave’s mouth to rake across your marked skin, and play across your face until your lashes flutter open and force you to squint against the light. The rest of your body soon follows in whirring to life in a cascade of sensation, starting with the ache rooted across your muscles and ending with the solid warmth and weight of the second body currently entwined and draped across your own.

The trooper curled around you groans at the light’s intrusion, the sound vibrating down the slope of your shoulder from where his face nestles in the crook of your neck. You shiver at the feeling, it's a welcome distraction to the cramp brewing in your legs and the tenderness throbbing at the apex of your thighs.

You grimace slightly as you attempt to stretch out your limbs as best you can from where they remain trapped beneath the entanglement of Rex’s body. There’s a sizeable pool of slickness smeared across your inner thighs that has long-since gathered and cooled there following your ‘activities’ the evening before. It serves as another reminder of the line you had finally crossed alongside the Captain beside you, a prelude to the mark he had branded onto your heart that would neither fade nor be washed away, unlike the more physical reminders he had littered your body with.

But despite the discomfort and the aching and the little comfort your flimsy nest of clothing provided, you’re content, happy if not completely wrecked in a wonderful way.

You can’t help but smile to yourself as you turn to glance at Rex snoring lightly against your shoulder. For the first time since your impromptu landing, and possibly even before that, he seems peaceful, comfortable even despite sharing the same unforgivably hard surface of the cave floor, and no doubt sporting an arm that is devoid of feeling from where you’ve been laying on it all night. You risk the chance to ghost your fingers over the slope of his back, marvelling in the warmth of his skin even in the chill of the morning air. He’s no longer as furnace-hot as he had been at the peak of his lust-induced delirium, and you wonder if you had succeeded in fucking out the last of whatever toxin it was that had made a temporary home in his body.

The outside world begins to stir alongside you now, though you find it difficult to focus on the chimes of birdsong whistling through the morning air as your fingertips idly trace the indents your nails left behind on his shoulder blades, and the constellations of faint scars that you had failed to focus on before.

Your mind begins to drift and spiral before you can stop it.

Things were bound to change between you now.

Despite how much you had enjoyed your night with the trooper, it hadn’t exactly been with the Rex you had known for so long now. Granted you could look at it as a necessity for helping someone you cared for so deeply, as well as it scratching the itch that desperately needed sating between you both, but you still stung with the knowledge that when he awakened, you would no doubt be forced into an uncomfortable conversation, one that could only end with the two of you figuring out how to function as colleagues for long enough to survive the journey back to the others without getting yourselves dismissed for inappropriately fraternising before finally severing whatever it was that had built up ever since you had met him.

And that realisation hurt. You would happily spend the rest of your days trapped against the cold floor if it meant that reality would never unfold at your feet.

At least you could enjoy these last few stolen moments for a little while longer before they were locked away from you forever.

But as Rex subconsciously tightens himself around you once you place a soft kiss to his sleep-furrowed brow, you realise that it's never going to be that simple. Your chest aches with a newfound guilt that you know his own will mirror when he awakens.

You’re not entirely sure how long you lay there counting the steady rise and fall of his chest and daring to run your hand down the length of Rex’s back before he finally stirs awake, but it seems much too short all the same once his sleepy gaze locks with your own and causes the lump in your throat to constrict further. His vision appears honeyed and blurry as he releases an arm from you to paw at his eyes with the back of his fist, a yawn tapering off into a disgruntled grunt as he scowls at the morning light now spilling around the shield of your body and pouring through the entirety of the cave. Rex wears an expression that would be more befitting of a man hungover from a night at 79’s, rather than one who had just engaged in a night of toxin-induced fucking. The scene is almost too domestic in its nature, the contrasting softness of his expression and the painful emotions staining your thoughts only twisting your heartache further until it wrings your stomach between its claws with a sickening force.

Before you can spiral further into your misery however, he’s blinking the remainders of sleep from his eyes and focusing them directly on you.

You swear you can pinpoint the exact moment the realisation hits him as his pupils contract.

“Good morning, Captain.”

You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to say it. Even when you’re all but wilting under his gaze, your brain apparently can’t resist the urge to tease him, though your voice quivers despite its lightness, betraying what little attempt to save face your mind has scrambled for.

Rex remains frozen, and in any other setting you would find his expression comical. His eyes dart between your face and the way you absentmindedly worry your lip between your teeth, to down to where the two of you are tangled like lovers and sticky with a mixture of fluids. Another beat passes before his entire body catches up with his mind and attempts to curl in on itself in clear mortification. This time a bitter laugh tears itself from your throat as you shuffle away from him and catch the way he subtly attempts to flex the blood back into his dead arm.

“Oh, fuck.”

His expression is hidden as the expletive leaves him in a strained sigh, the shame coating his words like a clear, thick poison despite the hands smothering his face.

You bite down harder on your lip at the way his cursing muffles into frustrated gibberish as his body attempts to sink back into the unforgiving surface of the floor. His face remains hidden by the shutter of his fingers, though the flush colouring the tips of his ears red is a clear indication of what he looks like behind his hands. He lets out what you think is a cross between a sigh and a shout of frustration into his palms, tone raising in what you rationalise to be the finale of his self-deprecation. There’s a smidgen of comfort to be found in the way he has completely forsaken the stoic demeanour befitting for a Captain in the simple hope that the ground beneath him would mercifully open up to claim him.

You almost have the urge to pat him on the shoulder in a sign of solidarity until you catch yourself and cringe at the thought. Instead, you focus your attention on picking at a loose thread poking out of the seam of the uniform crumpled beneath you and attempting to formulate an excuse you could supply to the others to explain the various stains tarnishing the fabric.

Rex takes another moment to himself before clearing his throat and folding his hands atop his chest as he turns to address you properly.

“I’m sorry.” His words are simple and exhaled within a sigh, yet the crease etched deep in his brow speaks volumes in place of them. “I shouldn’t have - I wasn’t… kriff, I’m so sorry for everything.”

His face is painted in layers of shame and you have to fight back the urge to kiss away the guilt lining his forehead and mouth.

“I’m as much at fault in this as you are, maybe even more so.” Your voice comes out much smaller than you intend it to, almost getting lost in the shadows of the cave itself. Rex’s eyes wander from yours after you finish speaking, expression shifting into something unreadable, and for a horrible moment you fear you’ve said the wrong thing.

His fingers flex instinctively against each other, nervously - you note. You had seen them do this countless times before battle and meetings alike, though you weren't sure if he ever noticed this habit himself. The pair of brown eyes before you remain glossed over in thought even as you attempt to desperately search them for some semblance of a response.

“...No. I never meant for it to, you know, happen like… this, between us I mean.” The last word leaves him in another exasperated sigh that has him gripping the bridge of his nose in frustration. His tone holds a familiar discipline now, but his thoughts seem to spill out in a jumbled heap that reflect the state of his current head-space.

It takes a moment for the words to fully sink in, but as soon as they do, your pulse is back to hammering in your ears the same way it had yesterday when you had returned to stumble upon his naked form.

“What exactly are you trying to say?” The words jump from your mouth before you have a chance of reeling your thoughts back, and you hope to the stars that he doesn’t pick up on the swell of hopefulness buttering your shock.

You aren’t stupid, you can guess what it is he’s attempting to voice, anxious as he is, but you can’t trust that you’re not dreaming until the words fall from his lips themselves.

Rex breathes out deeply from his nose. For a brief moment, his eyes threaten to wander down to where the sunlight settles warmly over your naked chest before they firmly lock on to your own. An involuntary shiver passes through you at their intensity. The way he stares at you makes you feel more naked than what even your own bare body can reflect - though the urge to run away and hide has long since died. There was no point in attempting to hide yourself away at this point, especially considering you had all but implored him to expose the layers of his own vulnerability in front of you.

“I’ve wanted this, wanted more than just this I mean, for a long time now.”

A smile somehow manages to tug at the corner of your mouth despite the way your pulse has skyrocketed in your ears at his confession, the noise whiting out to a pleasantly shocked buzz as you let the words sink in and wrap around your heart. In the very back of your mind, you register the faint sting of a pinch against your upper arm. It's one that you don’t even realise you have bestowed upon yourself until your shoulder shifts uncomfortably with the pressure, but also reassures you all the same that, no - this is not a dream.

In a heartbeat, Rex has melted from a disgraced, morose soldier to a flustered mess of a man. He rubs at the back of his neck in a way that's almost cliché, but also so endearing that you can’t look away from the sight of him.

“‘Suppose there's no use in hiding it now is there? Not now I’ve gone and made a royal kriffing mess of everything, that is. Guess I’m the same old di’kut I’ve always been” He punctuates the statement with a bitter chuckle and a faux smirk that doesn’t meet his eyes. You frown, an uncomfortable weight settling itself in your gut once more.

“...Rex, I’ve wanted this too, you know. I just didn’t hedge my bets on it taking the effects of an alien toxin to force me to confront it.” Not the most eloquent way of putting it, but you attempt to match his embarrassed smirk with a smile of your own, hoping that the intention behind your statement reaches him all the same. “The only di’kut you’re guilty of being is an oblivious di’kut.”

That gets a grin out of him, one that stretches until the corners of his eyes are crinkling with mirth. Happiness blooms within you at the sight, and your body finally allows itself to relax for the first time since awakening that morning.

Where before there had been a burning heat stretched between you, now there is a comfortable marigold warmth twinkling across your skin as Rex leans forward to catch your lips with his own. This kiss is gentle, almost hesitant in how soft it is. You can feel the tickle of laughter bubble in your throat as your smiles meld together.

“I’ve made a real mess of you.” Rex murmurs the words half-apologetically against your lips as he ghosts a touch over the love-bites decorating your neck. The trail of his fingertips threads goosebumps across your flesh as he dips them towards your collarbone - itself painted with bruised hues that could rival the vividness of a night sky.

He sounds almost proud, feigning an apology through the way he dances butterfly kisses over your marked skin before drifting them back towards your face. You roll your eyes at him before sweeping him into a deep kiss that steals the breath from his lungs and has him keening into the hand you have cupped around his jaw, effectively silencing him with the sound of his own groan.

You remain like this for a while longer, lazily locked in an embrace that has you glowing from the inside out with a steadily creeping heat, both breaking apart only momentarily each time to mouth over the expanse of the other’s skin, hands caressing and exploring as though you hadn’t spent the better part of yesterday grasping onto each others bodies as though they were the only things that grounded you both. Rex’s broad hands rub apologetic little circles across the bruising peppering your hips and wrists, brow twitching each time your reflexive squirming forces his eyes to crack open to face up to his misdoings. You swallow his concerns behind kisses before they can leap from his lips, curling around him a little tighter each time.

He doesn’t fight you - finally content to give in to the affection dripping from every single one of your touches and allow it to wash over him.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”

I love you.

The words slip off his tongue easily, as though they were always meant to be spoken against your lips. You find yourself smiling into the kiss once again, teeth scraping slightly against the plush velvet of his mouth just enough so that he knows you’ve translated it - you’ve spent adequate time around him and his brothers to pick up an inkling of mando’a, it proves to be enough to allow you to stumble through his words with a dizzy heart.

He freezes suddenly, and it dawns on you then that these words were not meant to reach your ears just yet. But he no longer needs to speak them for their intention to be known, to be felt by you in the way he holds you close as though you are the most valuable treasure across all the moons and stars. Your body sings as you press back against him with more fever than before, determined to have him feel the depth of your own adoration through the press of your lips alone.

I love you, I love you, I love you. I fear I have always loved you.

You kiss the mantra across his jawline, delighting in the way his heartbeat hammers in a crescendo with your ministrations as you flatten your tongue against his pulse. That all too familiar flicker of warmth begins to bloom deep in your stomach, snapping into something stickier once again as a particular scrape of your teeth sends a rumble echoing through his chest. The urge to pull him even closer prevails, and you resort to throwing your thigh over one of his own to tug him harder against you. The heat of his cock grazes against you as you straddle him. It weeps and twitches with the contact and succeeds in pulling a groan from you both even as your lips and tongues continue to mesh together.

Despite the ever rising fever of the situation, there is no animalistic urge driving the force of both of you this time. Instead you find yourself lazily dragging your hips over his, the movement slow and resonating with teasing affection and a desire to truly feel every part of him underneath you. Though you can feel his thighs shaking as they remain caged beneath the weight of your body, Rex remains largely still, the small cues his body whispers to you being the only indicators of his aching desire to be joined with you once more.

He’s being so good, but you can’t help but want to tease him a little more, to stretch this moment out even further behind each smile that twists into your kisses. A frown pulls halfheartedly at his brow and you trace it lightly with the tip of a fingertip in mock-comfort. Yet still he submits to your wiles, continuing to surrender himself to your mercy even as your core grinds wetly down against his arousal. It's only when the tip of it grazes over the slick seam of your opening that his hips finally betray his composure. They canter upwards with a jolt that has him hissing through his teeth and has you feeling the wettest you’re positive you’ve ever been in your life.

It's an impossible task to not revel in the sight of him twisting beneath you, blown ochre peering up through his lashes to stare up at you pleadingly as his hands sit patiently atop your hips. Your smile threatens to wobble into a smirk as Rex lets out a whine that edges on being pathetic. He’s so responsive to every touch, even the ghosting of your nails as you run them down and over the expanse of his chest with a feather-light caress.

You map out the crossfire of scars stitched across the skin there in the way you had longed to do the night before, circling each one lovingly as you sit back against the cushion of his abs. He moans openly now, emotion thick in his throat as you continue to lavish attention over the marks decorating his body, the sound betraying what little discipline he had left to hide behind. His hands drag themselves in an electrifying path down your thighs, fingers just barely brushing over the bone of your knees. Despite the lust swimming in his stare, his entire focus is trained on you as he silently begs for you to emancipate him with some form of relief.

Your touch wanders down towards the dip of his hips behind you, coming to rest just short of the base of his throbbing cock, and you delight in the way he twitches and writhes even further as you deny him once again. At last, the trooper throws his head back in defeat, practically growling with frustrated arousal yet never breaking eye contact with you, his face twisted with a tortured anguish of the most delicious degree.

“Please.” He mouths the words to you, voice stolen by a shuddering breath that falls from him in ragged pants. You cock an eyebrow, heart pounding all the while as you lean forward to tower over the quivering mess of a man you had sculpted with your teasing. Your palms press smoothly into the ground beneath Rex’s head as you support yourself to glance over him. The sensation is almost icy against the clamminess of your palms, but it's easy to ignore the cutting feeling as your lips brush just barely against his own with the proximity of your faces.

“What is it you want from me, cyare?”

Rex groans at the sound of his mother tongue on your lips, panting harder as his resolve crumbles to dust at last and forces him to jerk upwards to cup your face with a clammy palm. Your lower half sits slick and eager against the muscles of his abdomen and you know he can tell that you’re just as desperate for him as he is for you. But even still, you refuse to back down, not until you’ve succeeded in winding him just that last little inch further.

His thumb swipes over the apple of your cheek and you tilt your head to steal the tip of it past the part of your lips, tongue dashing across the pad of it just slightly, but enough to leave him reeling once more and tighten the fist his spare hand now has fisted in the mess of uniform beneath his hips.

“Please-” his voice is strained and gravelly as his words finally find purchase in the hazy air between you. “Need you, need you so badly.”

The way his groans wrap so delightfully around his whine of your name is all it takes for you to put an abrupt end to your foreplay. You grant him one last fleeting kiss before pulling backwards from his face, savouring the way his eyes snap open wide with shock and the way his upper body all but catapults upwards on his forearms when your hand reaches behind to finally grasp hold of his weeping cock. He barely has time to choke down on his words as you rise to angle your hips before you sink down and split yourself open across his lap.

Your eyes roll backwards behind closed lids at the stretch of him. He’s impossibly hot and pulsating within you as your hips settle flush together, his pelvis pushed directly against your clit with the angle. It dawns on you then, amidst the haze of sensuality clouding your thoughts, that you’ll likely never quite get used to the incredible size and strength of him, and that thought excites you more than you thought it possibly could.

You sigh deeply as you give an experimental buck of your hips, the sound tapering off into a moan at the creeping pleasure that licks up your spine from the shallow movement alone. The calloused palm of a hand laces itself with your own, and your eyes crack open to see Rex staring up at you with utter reverence. The borderline slack-jawed expression he sports as gazes over your body promises to turn you bashful with the sincerity of its emotion, of all things.

“You’re beautiful.” His voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it and it threatens to sap the final dregs of your bravado from your bones, your dominance faltering to fold in on itself. You counter his praise with another roll of your pelvis, only to whimper as he hits up inside you so perfectly that stars flash behind your vision. Your hands splay out against his chest as you work yourself into a sloppy rhythm, pleasure dictating the pace of your hips. Rex’s free hand slips down your body until the pad of his thumb can swipe against your clit in firm strokes, his ministrations still managing to drag a sob from your throat despite the slight quiver in his wrist.

“Fuck, Rex!” Your words are as broken as the shuddering movement of your hips and Rex’s other hand unfurls itself from your own to support your body as you bounce on his cock. “If you keep - if you keep doing that…”

He’s thrusting up into you now in return, grinding against your cunt so perfectly that you can feel your toes curl. His thighs slap against your own in a way that’s almost obscene, but it's difficult to focus on the sound amidst the way his hands work you in tandem: rubbing tight little circles against your clit with one while the other firmly pulls you down in time with his thrusts.

“It’s ok.” He whispers hoarsely to you, concentration strangling around the pent up affection in his tone. “Let me take care of you - take care of you the way I want to forever.”

The force of your orgasm knocks your head back and drops your mouth open into a silent scream. It ripples through you, catching the breath in your lungs and causing you to flutter around Rex even as you still above him. The increased sensation has him gasping and lunging forwards off of the ground. He pulls you against his chest and holds you tight as his hips stutter up into you harder. The newfound angle catches the both of you off guard and has you warbling his name with a sob, wound tight and shaking through the waves of white-hot pleasure bottoming out within your belly, completely and utterly overstimulated as you chase the light few drops of your release.

Rex follows soon after, yelling out as your walls milk him for everything he has until you slump forward against him. A plea of your name fades into a groan that you echo in time as he releases inside you, his abdomen flexing as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and delight in the way his breath fans across your skin and tingles over your frazzled nerves.

Your limbs buzz with fatigue as you drop your full weight against him, completely sated but exhausted once more. A mewl of a moan shivers from you as Rex shifts beneath you to support your boneless weight and pull you closer within his arms. His breathing has evened out much faster than you thought it capable of, yet he’s currently still clinging to you as though you’ll disappear if he relaxes in full for even a moment. His head rests lightly against your own as you hazily latch on to the exposed stretch of skin next to where your face is situated, slowly but possessively marking his collarbone in a way that has him shivering and tightening his hold on you even further. Your lips and teeth pair to stain him with a wordless contract that mirrors the one that decorates your own décolleté.

You are mine and I am yours.

The sun casts warmly into the entity of the cave now and you know that soon you’ll need to begin your journey back to Obi-Wan and the others, or at the very least contact them with the reassurance that you are both still alive. But alas, your mind is foggy with the lull of your afterglow, and as Rex begins to massage the aching expanse of your back and hips you find your thoughts occupied solely on the Captain once again. You smile, love-sick and dopey and so grateful that he can’t see your expression from where you’ve melted against his neck.

Though the rumbling chuckle that sounds throughout his chest and the twitch of his jaw against the crown of your head makes you realise that he most certainly felt it.

Surely the Jedi could bear to wait a few extra hours at least.

You certainly needed the time to formulate a stream of excuses for the state of you both, if nothing else.

#captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #captain rex #rex x reader #clone wars reader insert #OK I will let this man rest now #mine #rex

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