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physicalturian · 3 years

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[G] Gentle summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader - Part 6

[Contains spoilers from the movie, and the manga] [No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]

Words : 11 444

Archive of our own

Warnings : Mention of death / Mention of people getting killed GRAPHIC / Gore / Trauma / Fighting / Wounds / Blood / Lust

--- Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 -

The abruptness of the interruption on that night did not give me time to think, to ponder, nor to reflect on anything. With my crow in tow, I ran to the entrance of the village and grabbed the traveling necessities that were waiting for me with my sword. I took a few minutes to get changed in a proper slayer attire before letting myself be guided by Maro. It was an affectionate name I had given to the black bird that was now helping me find my way to where I was awaited.

Upon passing the final selection for the slayer training, they had provided each of the finalists with a bird. Most of them were crows; that was the only species I had met until crossing paths with the young Zenitsu who had been granted a sparrow. And like a sparrow, I was running at a fast pace to reach my mission point in time. Maro kept repeating the village name, it was the furthest I had ever been dispatched but considering that most of the Pillars were at the mansion, I was sent where none were. And, while I was sent alone and it felt odd to not be accompanied by another slayer, something else was on my mind on my way to the village where recruits were stuck.

I did not know how long it took me to reach the village, for I was lost in thoughts of what was happening somewhere else.

Earlier tonight, when our crows announced each of our missions, I had felt my heart sink. Not only because I was separated from the one person I wanted nothing more but to embrace and keep close, but also because the hidden swordsmith village was under attack. If they had been found out, it meant the Butterfly Mansion could be at risk, it could be next. While I knew my orders, I kept feeling a pull, a need to go back and follow Rengoku to help the swordsmiths. Then, I could hear words echoing in my mind, “As long as we put our duty first,” was the only condition that had befallen upon us if the Fire Pillar and I wanted to be together.

I tried arguing with myself, while still making my way to the recruits, that it was not for Kyojuro that I wanted to go there. It was to help, to not feel useless while running through fields to find the shortest paths to reach the recruits’ village. Slowly, my inner turmoil was won over by my logic; the Pillars were assembled where the attack had occurred, I knew it. It was the obvious strategy they would have gone with, and there was no way they would lose. Yes, they will win, they are strong, I tried to convince myself. An image of Rengoku’s smile flashed in my head, my throat tightened in sorrow and worry started plaguing my mind. Perhaps I should go back to help, I thought. Foolish questions, that did not help said worry, started flooding my mind; were his wounds healed properly? Will he arrive in time? Is the attack a bait to get him there and to have Akaza finish what he started?

While those thoughts plagued my mind, I did not stop moving. Shortcuts were taken to get there faster, the urge to turn around and go back was very present at each turn that I took. But perhaps it was more the urge to join him in that battle and make sure he would come out of it unscathed.

But I never did.

I ran the entire night, only stopping to catch my breath and to make sure no one was following me. It took a toll on my body, my feet were killing me, so were my lungs and my throat, but having been trained by Gyomei gave me the endurance some lacked. The festival had long since been forgotten and as the sun started rising, I could catch a glimpse on the horizon of the familiar architecture of a village. Approaching it, a small sign where the words “Nakusaki Village” were written, greeted me. Relief flooded my body as I slowed down my pace and gripped the handle of my sword tight, calming my breath.

When I entered the village, it was deserted, not as welcoming as the well-carved wooden sign at the entrance. At least, that is what I thought at first. While I walked carefully along the paths, I could see people peeking from behind closed shutters, the faint draft of whispers echoing. I could not understand what was being said, but fear had made its way to all the inhabitants of this place, which only made them more appealing to the demon that had nested itself somewhere around.

Since the sun was rising, if the demon was still alive it had to be hiding somewhere dark. Upon thinking that exact thought, I noticed railway wagons that led to a mine. It did not take much brain to know this was the perfect hiding place for those cursed beings. Without needing much courage, I stepped forth and entered the dark place, hyper aware of my surroundings all while calming my breathing. I was welcomed by screams of terror and horrid sounds of something being ripped apart. Letting my mind wander to scenarios of what could be happening, was not smart, I had to stay focused, and that is what I did. My light, almost inaudible steps contrasted with the deafening screams that resonated against the small walls of the mine.

It took me some time to find the right path to reach what I could only describe as a lair from how wretched it smelled and how cozy it seemed for the demon. Right in front of me was hovering over the horrified look of one of the youngest recruits, a humanoid-shaped demon. It possessed a huge tail with a sharp teeth-filled mouth at the end. A water-like pattern was adorning the length of it until it met the base of its lower back. From there, it looked like the skin was breaking. It looked like cracks painted all over its hide skin. Could it be that it is dying already? It is not a lower-moon six, nor is it a high-moon either. It is weak…

When its clawed hand reached out for the head of the recruit, I sped towards it and cut its hand before grabbing the man and pulling him out of the demon’s reach. Morishita Daisuke was the distraught slayer’s name. He was only a few years younger than I was, but the difference in experience between the both of us was a lot larger than the years separating us. “Either be a bait and bring him out, or get out-“ with a shaky voice and while stammering, he shook his head. “I can’t, there are others scattered in the mine, we need to find them!”

Nodding in reply, I avoided hits from the demon in front of me and gritted through my teeth, “Very well, let’s take him down first. Then we will find them-“ My speech was cut short when the demon sped behind Daisuke and grabbed him by the hair, making the man yelp in pain. “It’s not very nice to make plans without me- a bit cocky to even think you can defeat me,” He leaned in, his tongue out in a disgusting fashion as the recruit tried to pry its hand away from his hair. Slowly, the demon lifted him off the ground and dove to bite his neck. I reacted fast and flashed forward, cutting the hand holding Daisuke up, making him drop the slayer without having much say in it. It grew back.

A thud echoed when the young recruit’s knees hit the ground, he rushed to the walls of the mine to get out of my way, a hand covering his neck and his mouth. “You are pestering me, it is good, it makes the weakling more fearful. That will give him more flavor!” It exclaimed happily, clapping its huge hands together as its eyes wandered all over Daisuke’s body before suddenly looking at me. It was inhumane, the way it turned its head at almost 180°, but I was in no way fearful. “Perhaps I should make you struggle in front of him, you are his elder, are you not? I can see the way your eyes-“ It snapped its claws in front of me, I did not blink. Nor did I flinch. I do not think it saw the way I clenched my hand around the handle of my sword, but I did, ready to attack.

It approached me suddenly, yet in a manner that showed it had perfect control over its body. There were no useless motions, only calculated ones. Its face was now right in front of mine, “You are not afraid- it wouldn’t be fun to eat you right now…” The veins on its head were prominent, and blood was falling from the side of its monstrous mouth. The demon’s tone fell, “I will play with you a bit more, make you scream, make you cry for help, make you talk. You are not very talkative-“ “It is quite hard to have a conversation when one is keen on doing all the talking, would you not say, demon?”

It sucked its teeth, its tongue drawing over each of them as a threatening smile made its way on its face. “Let’s be polite, we are the same, are we not? Just a different diet. I am Masahiro, pleased to meet you-“ It laughed loudly after saying so, not believing a word it had sputtered. A hand on its stomach, another on its head, it leaned back laughing, “It was a good one- oh it was good, as if I wanted to know any of you. You do not ask your steak what its name is-“ “You are right, that would lead to empathy. This is where we differ. Emotions. Living beings feel them, a large range too. Not just… insatiable hunger,”

Its eyes widened for a second, before smirking. I did not let it speak, I had encountered enough demons to know what was going on, “Because the hunger you feel, is insatiable. It will only grow and grow and grow- until only one thing can stop it. But you will never get it, you are too weak for him,” I changed the grip on my sword, watching the demon falter for a second. All it did in response was laugh once again before reaching for Daisuke, but the slayer fought back and cut its arm off before running far from the creature, it caught Masahiro off guard. “I have met demons like you. Desperate to prove themselves to Muzan… To obtain more of his blood,” I trailed off, feeling the anger seeping from the demon standing in front of me.

It suddenly moved to crawl on the walls before standing on the ceiling where beams were keeping everything stable. One wrong move, one hit too strong and it could all come tumbling down. “Such a talkative steak, I guess I’ll eat you unseasoned-“ With a firm tone, I continued, “They either crumble in tears, begging to die, unable to take more of his blood or-“ The demon jumped from the ceiling and towards me, mouth wide open, his expression turned enraged and desperate at the same time. That demon was weak; if my words were so quick to irate it, it was not meant to be in the ranks of Muzan, far from it.

As it jumped, I bent my knees for more stability and slashed its head with ease. It did not scream, but I knew it was still alive for a few minutes, so I continued, “Or they act desperately, getting in over their head and making the silliest mistakes from letting their emotions take over,” I stated, wiping my sword on its inanimate body as Daisuke skewered the demon’s head on his sword, “You were turned recently; if not, you would have known demons are indeed still very humane. At least parts of them… The emotions are there, your main traits as human are stronger when turned. And I was able to bait you because you were weak, desperate for praise, desperate to belong,” I gestured for Daisuke to follow me. We made our way outside, the demon’s head still on the recruit’s sword while I dragged its body.

Tears started rolling down the demon’s disintegrating face. Its expression was grimaced as it uttered, “I failed them, please find my siblings- she took them, the fox-mask demon in… the mine, please,” Its mouth was no more, and soon enough, the rest of its head followed as it disappeared into dust. The sun had done its job and until it was time for the moon to take its spot in the sky, we had to prepare for more demons to come out of the mine later.

Before doing anything too draining, I took care of Daisuke’s wound, making sure he would not bleed out. The wound was not deep which made the treatment easier. I then knocked on the villagers’ doors to tell them they could come out for a few hours until sunset. It took some convincing, but with the right arguments they listened to me. I was provided paper, ink and a pen upon my request and quickly drafted the beginning of a report before folding it and putting it in my bag. After that, I was on the move with Daisuke as we ventured inside the mine to find the right path for the fox-masked demon.

All the paths we took led to nothing. Some led to cul-de-sacs, others to the open air. We had to come and go out of the mine to get some fresh air and eat, all the while drawing a map of all our twists and turns. I was no mapmaker, but Daisuke was worse. I had assigned him on lamp duty, he also had the responsibility of paying a lot more attention to the smell, in case gas leaked.

Around 4PM, we came out of the mine for good to have dinner with the villagers. They were kind and welcoming, guiding us back inside and thanking us for our work. Little did we know a routine would settle from all of this.

We had planned on waiting outside of the mine for the demon to come out; both Daisuke and I were taking turns keeping an eye out in case it showed its face. It never did that night. It left us confused as the sun slowly rose, the villagers fast asleep while we stood at the entrance with a frown. “Do you think it left?” He asked, but it was more to find logic out of this confusing behavior than to hope. “Daisuke, make yourself comfortable, we have a playful demon on our hands. We will keep looking for the other members, and hope for the best,” I stated as I guided him back inside, scoffing mentally at my mention of hope.

Now safe thanks to the sunshine, we prepared ourselves to go back to the mine on the second day, ready to look for the missing recruits. Before leaving, I took some time for myself to update my report before pulling out a new piece of paper and starting,

July 3rd

Dear Kyojuro,

I have come to the realization that this mission might last longer than initially expected, I cannot express how painful it feels to not be by your side the demon I am facing is tricky, but I will defeat it and bring back our recruits alive and well.

My heart feels heavy after parting from you at the fireworks viewing, I must admit I crave for your touch I enjoyed myself greatly and hope to see you soon. I miss your warmth at nightDaisuke has nightmares and is loud at night, but I am helping him the best I can… It helps him when I sing and it reminds me of you.

I do recall you had been summoned upon the attack on the blacksmith village on the night of our departure, no one could have predicted this happening.

Many scenarios plague my mind, worrisome ones. You are strong, and so are the other Pillars, yet it would relieve me greatly to hear from you, to hear that you are doing well…

Tell me you won,

Thinking of you, always,

Songbird…

Folding both the papers, I wrote Master Ubuyashiki’s name on the report, and Rengoku’s, on the personal letter addressed to him.

The days that followed were the same, none were fruitful in finding the fox-masked demon nor the recruits. The village welcomed us even if I could sense that everyone was tense, vigilant, afraid. Those latter feelings only made the situation worse, knowing the appeal it had for demons to see fearful preys. Daisuke showed great optimism and bravery, he reassured the villagers to the best of his abilities and made them laugh at dinner to lighten the mood. As bad as it was to think as such, I knew Rengoku would have done a great job at giving those people hope. At reassuring them… at reassuring me.

My hopes in finding the recruits alive were slim, but seeing Daisuke’s hope, or perhaps despair, pushed me to keep looking. While his actions and words displayed confidence, he could not hide the way his eyes flickered at every sound or the way they would fill with pure fear when we would come across another dead-end. Perhaps the demon has taken a liking to them, perhaps they are not dead… yes, perhaps.

July 8th

Dear Kyojuro,

I have not heard from you since I have written my first letter, I hope you are well. You must have heard of my daily reports at the estate, nothing was going as planned, until today!

We have found two recruits. It is an odd situation for it seems they were released purposedly… I must investigate deeper into the matter, but it matters not to you, I am ranting.

I find myself sleeping poorly without your presence. It sounds foolish, but I really miss you Tonight I will be sleeping with the two recruits alongside Daisuke, it is going to be an eventful night. I will not hold their hands while they sleep, but I will keep an eye on them. I wish I was holding your hand.

Have you ever thought of retiring? Without many people to talk to, my thoughts often drift to the end of this war… I can imagine myself at peace, with you by my side, maybe a dog as our loyal companion? I have never asked you which you preferred, dogs or cats? I long to talk with you again, for more time with you…

I long to hear your voice too, your laughter I miss the most…

Write to me, I am a wreck riddled with worry I can’t sleep at night, I fear I will receive a letter stating you passed I am bad at writing, I realize not all thoughts that cross my mind must be written, but I do miss you greatly.

I must say, I always believed I had a gift for writing but when it comes to you, all I want to write is that I yearn for your touch, that you are my one that you are wonderful, and oh so handsome…

Please, write to me my love

Thinking of you, always

Songbird

Days passed in a flash. With more people to cover the ground, one would think it would have been easier to find the remaining slayers, but all we found was the remains of one. There was nothing we could do upon stumbling over the maimed body on the floor but drag it out of the cave and bury it the best we could with the help of the villagers. We made sure to put a stone on the ground where the body was buried, to later move it for a proper burial on the grounds of the estate where Master Ubuyashiki could pray.

I did not get wind of any activity from the estate during those fast-passing days, no letter, no coded message, no crow sent my way, nothing. My hope faltered, the scenario in which the man I loved did not survive was now the one I thought was the most probable. I hated it. My guts were churning, and I could feel my determination waver too. Because of that, I made sure to force myself not to think about anything but the demon in the village.

On the morning of the twelfth, my heart jumped in my chest as my gaze settled on the incoming crow in the sky. It was not Master Ubuyashiki’s, this one seemed more familiar somehow. I watched it fly around a moment before it took notice of me and dove to set itself on my forearm. Taking the paper attached to its feet, I gave it a treat before slithering back inside and waving it off before hurrying to open the paper. My hands were gripping the letter tight as I read,

12th July

My dearest, we won,

I must apologize profoundly for not writing to you earlier, we have been assigned the training of the recruits. It does take quite the toll on the body to take care of the young minds! They are so lively and determined, all a great addition to the corps.

I read your letters over and over, trying to find the words Your letters made me the happiest man on earth, I am deeply grateful for your kind words and share your sentiments. Oh, to be the young Daisuke and to be sung to sleep by your gentle voice… It has been so long since I have heard you sing, and since I have held you close to me, I want you.

Eternity by your side sounds delectable I am sure we could settle somewhere quiet once this is over. Shall we start thinking of a name for our future life companion? It is an activity better kept for when you are by my side again, I cannot wait for your return, to take a good look at your beauty and relish in it, to have you flustered against me upon feeling my touch come home to me soon!

Tell me my darling, would you prefer to live in the lively city or the countryside? I’d like to think that sunsets are best enjoyed in the countryside, it would give me more opportunities to drown in your caresses without the gaze of people the quiet will find us better there too.

Patiently waiting for you return,

Thinking of you, always,

K. Rengoku

I had not realized I had been crying until the paper had been tainted a few tones darker by my tears. Hurriedly, I wiped them with a laugh of relief. Leaning on the wall, with only my shoulder resting against it, I took some more time to read everything all over, trying to decipher what had been scribbled out. Moving towards the window, I brought the paper higher under the light to maybe see through the ink and felt my cheeks warm up at the words I could read. It did not take long for my brain to think,what if he had done the same? What if he could see under what I scribbled out?

Just like Kyojuro, I had not been as meticulous as I could have been in writing my feelings. With the number of thoughts that had been crossing my mind, it had taken me a few tries to write the proper words, those that were not too much but still portrayed how I felt for the swordsman. My main struggle in writing down what I felt, was keeping to myself the word ‘love’. I suppose if he did not mention anything, it means he did not manage to read under the ink, maybe he did not even try, I thought.

To tell him that I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life by his side would have come across too strong. I also surprised myself when the thought of sitting on my very own veranda on a winter night with a warm drink in hand felt the most attractive with him by my side.

The final product of our effort seemed clean enough for an exchange between friends, lovers, but never would it be accepted as a report. As I read his words again, the smile on my face never left. I started daydreaming for a few seconds before being snatched out of said daydream by the recruits telling me it was time to continue the search party.

Their spirit was not deterred in the slightest, even after days without finding anyone or any clue. Today and the following one, however, had turned into something closer to a chase. A game of a sort, trying to find where the sound was coming from.

When we stepped inside the familiar dark grotto, the voice of something tenebrous resonated. It did not seem to come from one specific spot which made it harder to pinpoint. Because of that, it took us around an hour to finally find where the sound was coming from. There in front of me was another young recruit, Hana I believe was her name. She seemed frightened but not starved, which was odd considering the length of time she had stayed inside the mine. In the darkness, right behind her, something moved and dug underground before disappearing.

When it was gone, I rushed to her side and helped her stand, dusting off the dirt from her form and whistling for everyone to come out, signaling I had found something.

This was on the day of the 14th of July. That sight, of a demon helping one of our recruits out, was what bewildered me the most and made me reconsider my next steps. That demon did not have the fox mask, which means it was not the one we were looking for. Perhaps one of its lackeys had taken pity on the members of the corps? I wrote down my thoughts in my report, not missing a detail before finishing it and deciding to send a letter back to Rengoku.

14th July

Dear Kyojuro,

I have never been more relieved to see your crow than I was a few nights ago when it delivered your letter. I was finally able to sleep Knowing that you are alive and well made most of my worries disappear. I cannot help but still think of your safety while away, for now knowing you are alive will suffice.

Reading your enthusiasm to be sung to sleep brought a smile to my face, I promise I will sing to you once more when we see each other again. How are you sleeping? How is your wound? I must say, I miss waking up to your beautiful golden gaze and the warmth it brings to be the object of your attention… Of your desire Sometimes I dream of losing myself in those fiery eyes as I lean in to kiss you

The countryside seems like the best choice. The fresh air will be more than welcome after long nights spent together… great for our battle-tired bodies. I am sure we will need an enormous garden, or a vast field nearby, for our future companion.

On a bolder note… I do miss the way your hair feels against my cheeks when you lean in for a kiss… And to have your hands on my body in mine at night, to feel your body against mine as you hold me close, is what I crave. Wilder, more wishful, more sinful thoughts crossed my mind, but I would feel inappropriate sharing them at the moment…

Do not overexert yourself. If I find out you overdid it, I will come in running and put you to rest myself!

Thinking of you, always

Your songbird

As I folded the letter properly, I already started regretting the latter words I had written. Had I been too bold? But then again, from the scribbled-out words, he felt the same and it made me smile knowing so. Stepping towards my bag, I dove my hand in to find some twine to tie the letter but was met with a piece of paper.

Pulling it out, I was struck with remembrance of the fireworks night; it was the paper the artist had given me. From the rush I was in that night, I had forgotten to take a look at it. Curious, I unfolded the parchment and felt my heart soar at the sight. She had drawn us getting prepared, me in front of him taming his hair as he gazed at me with a loving look, at least that is how I saw it. His hands were resting on my hips and mine were in his hair, both of us smiling stupidly.

While I felt pure happiness seeing that picture, it was also accompanied by nostalgia and longing. To return by his side and have him close to me, I needed to find that demon and take it down. It fueled a certain determination in my being, but the confusion the demon’s behavior brought did not leave.

A meeting with the recruits had been organized to talk about what we would do next.

That day, while still being vigilant outside the mine, we did not go back inside. If our theory was right, the demon was keeping them alive. The reason for it was unknown, but Hana told us she was certain other recruits were talking inside the mine, she could hear the echo of their voice from where she was kept. From that, we planned our next move.

The following days, it was in the early morning that Kyojuro’s bird flew in with a reply. I was surprised by the rapid reply, yet was filled with immense joy upon reading it while having breakfast.

16thJuly

My heart,

I hope the weather is fine and you are well. For my part, I could use a warm bath, with you, from how tiring it is to train so intensely daily. The training is going smoothly. However, I must have been too hard on the trainees seeing some have broken in tears. Or perhaps it was the pressure from having, a few hours prior, been training with Sanemi? I wonder…

I will hold you to your promise of singing to me upon your return! The excitement is already present. Your gentle face, next to mine, wordlessly calling for my hand to caress it… Do not be fooled, I will cave in and do as it calls.

Your boldness surprised me in the most agreeable way… It would be a lie to say I did not feel the same. You are the first thought in my cloudy mind when I wake up, my heart and body long for you and your touch. I dream of your return safe and sound. I ache to trace my fingers on your disrobed back while you shiver, expectant and as beautiful as the first time I laid my eyes on you.

I wish I could see you at this very moment. Flustered, gaze askance, making sure no one is seeing what you are seeing… I like knowing you think of me almost as much as I do.

Would you care for a date in those fields we would own? I would gladly take you there every day, every morning if you so desire! We would lay a blanket on the ground and enjoy one another, in silence if that is your wish. I cannot promise I will stay silent, however.

Our companion would be running around, hunting, something we would have long since retired from. Oh, the dreams I have for you and me! I must share them with you at once, but the distance separating us prevents me from doing so… Come back, I miss you.

Perhaps I will exert myself if it’ll make you rush by my side… I am being playful! I do miss you dearly and hope you are well, not hurt and doing good.

When do you think you will come home?

Longing for you, always,

K. Rengoku.

He was absolutely right. I needed to fan my face upon reading his words, clearing my throat to try to compose myself. If I read it all again, I knew I would start chuckling like a fool at how enticing it all was. I was aware of his charms when I was with him, his subtle touches and his discrete smiles. Or even those mischievous glances here and there when there were other people around. But without those, he could only rely on his words, and he was awfully good with them. Even without body language, the man had me warm all over.

I stashed the letter away safely. There was no time right now to write him back, but I was planning on doing so soon.

The finding of the picture from the festival brought me a great deal of comfort. Every day I would look at it and be reminded of what was waiting for me ‘home’. But every day I would look at it, I would also be reminded of those light-hearted promises we were making of a nearby future, one after defeating Muzan. I was starting to find comfort in it, and it scared me.

With a sigh, I got ready for another day in the mines.

On the eighteenth, we encountered another demon in the mine. Daisuke was with the two recruits we had found at the beginning of the mission while I was paired with Hana. We got caught by surprise when, without any warning, without any sound, we got pushed forward. Both stumbling down and falling to our knees, we scurried to our feet and were now back-to-back, swords drawn out.

She worriedly asked me what we should do, her voice unwavering but draped in anguish. “It saw us without the light, which means we are at a disadvantage. We are going to need to use other senses than sight-“ I winced when I felt stinging pain from the middle of my back to the side of my hip. I couldn’t see much but knew the demon must have clawed me when pushing us. Dawdling on it would do no good, I had to stay focused on what I could do. “You must have trained with the Stone Pillar, correct?” She nodded, making a small sound of agreement. “Close your eyes, take a deep breath and focus on sensing its presence more than on seeing it. Feel it, sense it, hear it,” I paused, huffing a laugh, “Smell it if you will, young Tanjiro does so,” I said softly.

It made her laugh which was reassuring. If she found the strength to laugh at this, it meant she was not as stressed as I thought her to be. Or that it was a nervous laugh.

A deadly silence slowly set in. The only sound that echoed from time to time was the metallic one of our hands moving our swords in the hope of slashing the beast that was lurking in the shadow. A few attempts failed to succeed, making us think even more about our next move. I did not know what it looked like, only that it relied on darkness to have the upper hand. Was the demon perhaps bad at close-hand combat? Or feared the light? Those were my only theories.

“If I had known darkness was you slayers’ weakness, you would have been taken out a lot sooner,” The voice travelled from each of our sides, making it weirder when we could hear it on two opposite ends of the cave. “Well, well, well, look who it is! I recognize your smell,” Its voice dropped, then I heard Hana yelp before she exclaimed, “I got it! I’m holding it by the throat- I think?” she said unsure. It has approached her, remembering what her fear smelled like.

At that very moment, I felt something next to me and reached out for it with my hand, gripping it tight. It was harder than human skin, but still malleable. “I hope we are holding the same thing, because I am also touching something and-“ I started, a sardonic laugh interrupted me, it came from above. Then joined in other laughter, more constricted ones. This time it was coming from the things we were gripping tight. “Boo!” Another voice boomed next to me, I let go of the thing I was holding and gripped my sword tighter, brandishing it and taking a deep breath, “So, you are not alone,” I stated.

“You can put two and two together! Unexpected from the fools who cannot for the life of them defend themselves in complete darkness,” It scoffed condescendingly. Matching its attitude, I kept my back against Hana’s and changed the position of my sword, “Tell me, how did you come up with that conclusion?” I asked, my tone calculated. Being at a disadvantage for now put me in a dreadful situation, but while the demon thought we were useless in the dark, we knew what to do. I nudged Hana with my elbow for her to pay attention, “Our senses are trained, we hear better,” Listen “You keep talking, yapping,” I’ll keep talking, “Giving us more time to come up with a plan,” I came up with a plan. Laughing loudly, I moved brusquely, the sound of the lantern on the ground gone unnoticed from my forced laugh.

“Pay close attention,” I really hoped she was paying attention and getting what I was hinting at, “It is obvious you find comfort in utter darkness, which points out the obvious weakness, not only of the sun, but also of… fire,” At my word, Hana smashed the lantern on the ground, splattering the oil and setting it ablaze with the remaining weak flame.

The room lit up and we could see the demon’s face, or faces, finally. Surprise adorned our features when we were met with familiar faces. Three of them, sticking out of the wall, the ground and the ceiling. Those faces, from missing recruits, were attached to long necks that disappeared in the stone, but all led to what looked like a beating heart on the upper corner of the cave.

Noticing we had seen its heart, the demon attacked in a wild manner, reaching for us. Hana reacted first by using her Mountain breathing and slicing its heads fast. I had now approached the living, beating organ. Fire was making the room hotter by the second, I was sweating and had started breathing more raggedly. “Its heads grew back!” She exclaimed.

Not losing time, I slashed the organ, earning a pained scream from the demon. It started insulting us over and over, while I called for Hana in a distraught fashion. She rushed to my side, her face dirtied from the mines and the soot from the fire.

“Three of them, they were in its stomach? We need to get them out of here quickly-“ “I can carry two of them! You are wounded, so I’ll carry two out,” Hana hurriedly said as we pulled them out of the stomach-like pouch. They were slimy and smelled atrociously, but there was no time to be squeamish at such a drastic time. I then helped set the passed-out people on her back and made sure she was steady before carrying the last one on my back. “Let’s hurry, we should have someone rush down here to take out the fire,”

With that, we made our way out but not before slashing the demon one last time to make sure it was dead. We even dragged what we could see of the body, in the fire, to quicken the process.

Each step I took made my back hurt, I could feel the blood dripping to my side and my head getting dizzy, but I held on until we reached the outside of the mine. Both Hana and I fell to our knees upon feeling the fresh air; we carefully laid the recruits on the ground. The villagers did not think twice before running towards us, helping us get everyone inside. It was still day, which was reassuring. Hana still sent her crow inside the mine to call back the other slayers.

We ended today’s search on a high note. Three more recruits had been found; two had woken up, one did not make it.

I was lucky to have made it out conscious with the blood loss I had endured. The village’s doctor treated my wound with care, it’s only when he was done that I let myself relax and fell asleep. Two other recruits were sleeping in the same room I was sleeping in, I would only realize that when I’d wake up a few days later.

Haruka, one of the latest recruits we had found, was sitting by my side, writing his report. “Help me up,” I voiced, perhaps too sternly from how panicked his expression turned. Nodding, he scurried and put his own pillow behind my back. “I will call the doctor!” He exclaimed. I grabbed his arm with force before he could rush off, “Can I use your stationary? I would like to write my report,” and to write to my lover, but that was left unsaid.

He seemed confused but nodded, moving it my way. “I will tell old man Fumihiro to come-“ Chuckling, I cut him off, “SirFumihiro, he is your elder, is he not?”

The younger recruit’s face flushed red, “He said we could call him that, I am sorry,” He apologized so formally, I did not have the energy to tell him he could be more familiar. Instead, I dismissed him and started writing.

19thJuly

Kyojuro, my sun

I hope this letter finds you well. I truly feel your need for a bath right now, I could use one myself. Piping hot water would be submerging our enlaced bodies, your welcoming arms around my form… More sinful thoughts could be written, but I do not share your lack of fear of being inappropriate…

Far from me the idea of worrying you, thus I will first tell you I am well. We have found three more recruits, but the details do not matter… I was wounded, it will definitely leave a scar, but scars have some charm, do they not? Please tell me you like them

We were in the mines with Hana when we got caught off guard, the demon had the upper hand for a moment and managed to leave a gash scratch on my back. I am perfectly fine now, but I do not wish for you to fret. After all, I must take example of your formidable form and push through it, would you not agree?

Your letter left me a flustered mess; I will confess. If you must know, you are also my first thought in the morning… I could almost feel your fingers on my skin as I read your words.

I can imagine training left you a sweaty mess, I wish I was by your side to wash that untamable mane of yours. Is it sensitive? Would you like it if I pulled your hair? I hope you comb your hair! It would be a shame to have to shave it all off. I am joking, of course.

To help me fall asleep, I imagine us somewhere where the sun is high, and shade would be provided by an old willow tree. You would look the most beautiful with the moving shadows of leaves on your pretty face. How soothing the thought is, simply upon writing it… Do you think a painter would follow us on our adventures? To keep great memories from the places we would go to. Or should we train our painting skills a bit more?

A thought to ponder…

A date in a field with you by my side would be more than what I could hope for. I can already imagine dandelions adorning your hair from simply laying in the grass like the mad man that you are. It would be my greatest joy to take my time and remove them one by one. I would even go as far as call it an opportunity! For what you may ask, ah well… To run my fingers through your hair…

Maybe to let them trail to your neck, your shoulders… Helping your sleeves off your shoulders and pressing the faintest kiss on them. I will let your imagination do the rest, but I would suggest you wear a kimono on that date. For the heat would be unbearable, at best and excruciating if you put some thoughts into it.

This letter is getting longer than I expected. The things you do to my poor mind, it is filled with only thoughts of you and your gentle voice. One could lose themselves in those thoughts.

I cannot wait to return to you, to talk about the dreams you have for us.

If everything goes well, I will leave the village in two more weeks, at best.

Two more weeks until I see that familiar, kind, warm face of yours.

Yearning for you, always

Songbird.

As I sealed the letter, a weight settled in my stomach. Rengoku was not the type of man to leave someone simply for having a scar, I knew that. But I couldn’t stop thinking of how he mentioned trailing his finger over my back, and now that it had been wounded, he might not find it as appealing.

My hand trailed to the bandage around my form, slowly sliding to the highest point where it began before reaching the lowest one, on my hip. “It shows I have a tale to tell, and that I survived,” I said out loud, trying to convince myself. I was correct, but insecurities did not always make sense. You could not reason with them. So, instead of thinking more about it, I covered myself and wrote my report.

Soon after, the doctor entered my room and changed my bandages.

The moment I started arguing I could go back to the search party, I felt like Kyojuro when I told him to stay in bed. It made me chuckle for a moment, that is until the doctor threatened to tie me to the bed if I did not cooperate.

“Very well, can I least get dressed? To prepare the proper funeral for…” the dead one, the one that did not make it, the one I failed.

“A team of yours came here yesterday to bring the two bodies back to-“ He paused, not knowing where they were to be brought to. “Back where they’re supposed to be buried, I suppose…” He trailed off. From the look in his eyes, I could almost feel the sadness coming from him. A kind and empathic man stood in front of me, one that wondered what he did wrong for such a tragedy to befall his village.

Reaching for his hand, I shook it gently, “They knew it could happen, as awful as it sounds… Their family will be announced their passing soon, there is nothing you could have done or can do, now,” I had not realized how much seeing those two recruits die meant to me. I had not realized I felt responsible for them. We had been searching, day after day, drowning ourselves in work so much that I never had time to ponder more.

The stupidest “ifs” started crossing my mind, hypothetical things that could have changed the course of their life. What if we had kept searching during the night? What if I had turned to the left instead of the right at that time? What if I did not spend time writing silly letters, and instead focused more?

It was a spiraling abyss that would lead to nothing good, so I shook my head and focused on the old man in front of me. “Let us do what we do best, we will defeat the demon that nested inside the mines, you can trust us,” I nodded reassuringly before being hugged tightly and suddenly, by Fumihiro.

“You are so kind, all of you- so brave, you have been through so much. Is there anything we can do to repay you?” He asked as he pulled back from me, tears threatening to fall down. Please don’t cry, I do not know what to do if you start crying, I thought as I patted his shoulder. “You are doing more than we could ask for, taking care of our wounds, giving us shelter and feeding us,” I said with a smile, “All you have to do, is let us do what we do best, take down demons,” He nodded enthusiastically before standing up and telling me he would have someone bring me food.

I did not stay in bed long. The following day, I was back in the mines. It was against Fumihiro’s orders, but I could not stay still, and my wounds had healed up greatly.

We had found huge clues that could lead to the ‘mastermind’ as Daisuke would call it, on the 22nd of July. There were huge prints on the ground, they did not match any animals we could think of, so we made sure to leave our own markers around the area to not lose it in case the demon came back on its footsteps. That day we spent the entire night thinking of a plan to follow. I say the entire night, for we all fell asleep talking about it. I did not even have time to read the letter I had received from Rengoku.

That same night, while half of us were asleep, Jin, Uchiyama and Takeshi came in running. Those were the names of some of the recruits we had rescued.

In a panicked state, they started explaining that the demon had come out and was ransacking the village. We all stood up, sword in hand and ready to fight. Some were slower in getting ready, so I left the room without them and ran to the demon with the three recruits that had come in running.

“It is huge! There is a smaller one with it, but we can’t find it- what should we do?”

The obvious thing was, “Evacuate the houses, I will distract it. The others will join me soon enough, go,” I waved them off, they nodded and ran to the villagers’ houses, not taking time to knock on the doors. They barged in.

A thunder-like voice echoed high from the ground, “Look who it is, aren’t you the one who killed my dearest, oh so soft lackeys?” The pitch of the voice was higher than those I had encountered, “It was a stupid move of you demon, to kidnap slayers,” I stated, looking at the long-haired demon that stood on one of the rooftops of the house. Its feet dug inside the tiles, shattering them on the spot.

“Demon this, demon that, let’s be civilized, shall we? I am Suzumi Shiori, and you are?” The woman that stood in front of me, suddenly jumped off the roof and was now standing only steps away from me. She was taller than the demons I had encountered so far in the mine, she also differed from them by wearing a mask while the other did not. The fox mask the demon had mentioned. “I am about to take you down,” I breathed as I acted upon my words. Going to slash her neck, the woman-like demon stopped it without much struggle.

“Have they not taught you manners at your little-“ She gestured my way with disdain, “Hunter group? Or something along those lines...” Shrugging, she gripped my blade tighter, I could feel it straining under the strong grip. Taking a deep breath, I used my technique to cut her fingers off and step away from her. “Manners have no place when fighting barbaric beings like you,” I spat, holding back from wincing as I felt my wound sting. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the recruits had started gathering at different places around the village. It was furtive, a smart move to attack the demon by surprise.

Still looking at her ominous figure, I sternly called, “Hana, Jin, Aoyama, go back to the mines, find the four remaining slayers that disappeared,” They nodded and started running to the entrance, the demon named Shiori grunted and made her way to them but Daisuke barred her way and slashed at her stomach, only leaving a scratch. Yet, it was enough to make her step back as she lifted her mask to let it rest on the side of her head. “The rest, with me. We will take her down before any more damage can be done,”

I could hear Aoyama yelp behind me before being ushered back to the dark grotto with the two others.

The fight was a four versus one. All we needed to know was her ability and weakness, after that, it would be easy to defeat her.

“This is entertaining! I can see the cogs running inside those little brains of yours, so I’ll tell you my little secret,” She said in an overly jolly manner. Confidence was dripping off her demeanor, she did not seem an ounce worried for her life. “The easiest way to get your prey is to separate it from the group,” A devilish smile made its way on her lips as she sat down, legs crossed. She then raised her arms and the ground started moving with her, walls building around us, rising from the ground.

Before panicking, I had to assert I had some sort of control on the situation. “Don’t let your guard down, find each other,” As I prepared myself to slash the maze’s walls to not play her games, I heard Uchiyama’s voice echo along Daisuke’s, both saying the same information in different manners, “The walls are rock hard!” and “We cannot slash through the walls,” It ticked me off, I changed the hold on my sword and glanced at the sky to see what time it was, how long we had left.

A proud and sarcastic laugh echoed, the condescending tone never leaving her voice, “Come on! You better start now, or I will go back before sunset,” She cooed, “I am not moving, can you reach me?” It was a rhetorical question that did not have the need for us to pay attention. We hurried and started walking around the maze to reach her, her laugh reaching my ears once again, “You cannot think that is a serious strategy, try harder or you will not reach me in time,” Clapping her hands enthusiastically, she started cheering us on.

I could hear Takeshi and Daisuke getting annoyed, I did not know where they were, but they were complaining out loud. That did bring a smile to my face, even in the midst of all this mess. As time went on, I felt like I was running around in circles, and it was driving me mad. Step after step, my hand still on one wall to try to keep track of what I was doing, in vain.

“Captain!” I heard Daisuke call for me, he hardly called me by that title, but I said his name back and said I could hear him without mentioning anything. “The wall can’t be cut, but maybe we can cut the ground!” I snorted. It was a creative proposition, but we were no gravediggers, although he could try. Thinking outside the box was welcomed, no matter how foolish. Before I could tell him, the woman-like demon took the opportunity and spoke up, “How foolish can you be? Have you not connected the dots yet? Do I have to do all the work for you?”

What does she mean by that? I wondered. She had moved the ground, which meant it was part of her. She could not just move dirt like that, clearly she was not that powerful. And if she was the ground… What am I missing? I thought as I glanced at the sky once again to see how much time we had left. We could not find her in the mine, she kidnapped our recruits, kept them alive for some reason, that being the most confusing part. Why couldn’t we find her in the mine, but the others we could? She can move the ground- she is the ground; she is the mine?

I sent my slayers in the mine. They weren’t kept, they were being digested somehow.

I swore under my breath, “So that is your power,” I started in false confidence, pulling out my sword once again and taking a deep breath. “It is fine by me, my recruits will find your roots somehow-“ “They are probably dead by now, have you not noticed?” She asked, “The mines are closed, there is no escape and oh, will they feel good! For some reason, a lot of them have escaped, but that will go on no longer! I have had enough,” She exclaimed, slamming her hands on the ground, spikes coming out of the walls.

I managed to dodge them, but I could hear Takeshi’s grunts. “Takeshi, don’t move! We will come and get you,” I called out. He tried to reassure me, saying he was fine, but I could hear it in his voice that he was not in great shape. “You have one more lackey, do you not?” I asked the demon. Her face contorted in confusion, “Have you considered it was the one that helped my recruits escape?” She was caught off guard, shaking her head, “There is no one else, you have killed both of my dearest, oh-so-kind, so weak, so useless, subordinates,” Her expression was now hurt, faux hurt, but hurt, nonetheless.

Both of us were lost, if it was not her, what was it? As I pondered that thought, something grabbed my foot. I was surprised and looked down silently, sword at the ready. There stood the little demon I had seen earlier in my mission, the one that had brought Hana out. It brought its hand to its mouth and made a digging motion. Before I could comprehend, I found myself submerged by dirt and rocks. The demon dragged me through the ground before peeking its head out and gesturing for me to come out without a sound.

So, it was the one responsible for their survival? Had she not noticed its existence? I knew it was a demon, but it did not kill. I did not know what its endgame was, but I looked at it a moment before mouthing ‘thank you’. It almost looked flustered before disappearing underground. “Have you lost yourself once again? I am sure mice would be smarter than you slayers. A pity. Smarter people are so much tastier, but I guess there is not changing your little brain this late in the meal, now is there?” I could hear her from up close.

The little demon had brought me close enough that I could take her down. I heard Uchiyama reply to her, determined, “I’ll let you know I’m smarter than Takeshi! Just because you think we can’t find the end of that stupid maze of yours, does not make us stupid!” He said with his voice bursting with assurance. I did not know what he was doing, but it felt like he was getting her attention. It was the perfect moment to strike.

Taking a deep breath, I thought of the best course of attack and used my 5th breathing style. The demon named Shiori turned in pure shock, her face lighting up with fear. Before she could react, I struck her neck hard. It was resistant at first, but I could feel my blade dig in the hide-like skin. I heard her breathe, baffled and stunned, “How?”

I smiled, “There was a mole, it seems,” I did feel proud of that joke, but the demon did not get it. “I don’t get it- I-“ Her walls started falling off, disappearing. And as they did, I looked at the mine, which was fading away too, disintegrating. I heard Daisuke join Takeshi’s side, helping him up and taking a look at his wound, good. In the thrill of having taken her down, I had forgotten she had risen herself on a wall of her own making, that same wall that was falling apart.

Both of us fell to the ground, her head in my hand and her body under mine, making my fall less painful. Waiting patiently for her to disappear, I looked around and saw the little demon that had helped me, it popped out of the ground with people behind it, my people. Turning the woman-like demon’s head, I showed her, “There, that’s the reason you’re defeated. How does it feel? The weakest are still pretty useful when you do not pay attention, wouldn’t you agree?” I asked, too cocky. I do not know why I was feeling so elated. Was it because I could finally return home? Or because she had killed two of my recruits, and had finally paid the price?

“I thought I had killed you!! Traitor!” She barked, her face adorning hideous traits. The small demon looked at her without any expression, it stared a moment before scurrying off, back underground. “That rat, that idiot, I knew I should have made sure it was-“ Her words were cut off, her face slowly turning into dust.

We waited a few more minutes for the sun to rise. A new day was ahead of us, and we had a lot to do. For now, we would go back inside and rest, for nothing could be done in the state we were in.

That night, we fell asleep peacefully. Hana insisted on keeping an eye out just in case, while we slept.

The next morning, we started working on fixing the village. The death of the fox-masked demon had left holes in the mines, odd ones that led to unknown places. Some roofs were damaged, walls too. Our large number made the reparations take a lot less time than they would have.

The four recruits we had found the previous night were sleeping peacefully, watched over by Fumihiro.

Days and days of hard work busied us. It was not until the 27th July that I found time to read Rengoku’s letter and reply to it.

22nd July

My love, my dear,

My heart jumped in my chest at the mention of you getting hurt. There is no point in feeling bad upon not being there to stop it, but I cannot help it… If I had been there you would not have been in pain. You told me you were doing fine, and I believe you. Scars are battle medals, it means you have fought and lived to tell your story. The scars that adorn your body are like the stars that adorn the night sky, beautiful and mesmerizing.

If you would allow it, I would like to show you how much I still adore you and your body, even if scarred… Upon your return, I will worship you, with the utmost respect, unless you wish for else.

To hire a painter to follow us on our journey is a great idea! But they would have to look away when I will not be able to hold back from kissing you all over. I will not let you go one minute once we retire. Just like ivy on a tree.

Dandelions can tangle my hair, I would not care for I would need not to make a wish. Having you by my side is my only desire. And there is nothing I could ask for more than to have your hands on my body at all times. Hair, shoulders, hands… Everywhere is welcome for your touch, my body is screaming for your touch.

For someone with a strong desire to be appropriate, your promiscuous words left me wanting more. I will hold you onto that promise… And to answer your question, although it was scribbled over, the answer is yes. Do what you will with that piece of information, my love.

The trainees are working hard, so hard I almost struggle to keep up with them. If you were there, I am sure we could manage them with more ease, your presence would give me the energy I lack to match their attitude. Everyone is working very hard. It is hard work to keep them all determined, but you must know I am a determined man. I will have them keep hope and be ready by the time of the battle.

Two weeks away from holding you close, I cannot wait for your return,

I will finally rest easy once I have you by my side,

Lovingly,

K. Rengoku

I missed him dearly, and as I read his letters, all of them, I pondered how long I could hold myself from telling him I loved him. Having him wish for a peaceful life together at the end of all this left me wanting that too. I feared matching his hopefulness, I feared wanting a future. Not because it was one with me, but because if in that future he was not with me, I do not think I could live without him.

27thJuly

My love,

We have found the remaining recruits; it is a relief to announce we will be departing shortly to return home.

I must apologize for the late reply from your previous letter. After defeating the demon behind all of this, we had to take care of the damage it had done. I am grateful to have been accompanied by everyone as we repaired everything, it made the process a lot faster.

The proper words have a hard time coming to me. Your words still echo in my mind, I cannot express how much they meant to me. If it is of any usefulness, know that I feel the same about you. No matter the state this war leaves you in, I will love you just the same. It sounds awful said as such, but it is true. As optimistic as we can be, we cannot know for sure if we will make it.

I will not let you worship my body until I have done the same to yours. Words cannot portray the depth of my craving for your touch, for your presence. The comfort of your being is what I long for, but to hear you say my name barely above a whisper is what I yearn for. Oh, to be back on that veranda where we can enjoy our breakfast together… I miss you.

As for the piece of information… I will use it as I worship you, my only God.

That piece of information you share will be more than useful in time…

I will help you with the recruits, for we might need to train ten more as I bring them back from the Nakusaki village. More fun is bound to follow, would you not think?

I will be writing you a letter on the day of my departure,

Thinking of you, Missing you every moment,

Songbird

As promised, a few days later, before receiving any letter from Rengoku, I was packing everything. It was hard to coordinate everyone, but we managed. The villagers thanked us, asking us if we needed anything more before we left. They offered us some of their most valuable belongings, but we would not take it. There was no need, was what we told them.

Before leaving, I had sent a last letter.

30thJuly

My dear Kyojuro,

I am returning to the mansion.

We will be departing the village today, after one last meal with the villagers. We might take more time to return than it took me to arrive, some of us are in pretty bad shape.

We will probably arrive on the 1st of August,

I cannot stand still at the thought of seeing you again,

Impatiently yours,

Your songbird

[Part 7]

#demon slayer #rengoku x reader #gentle summer #physicalturian #ao3 #writing #ao3 writer #physicalturian ao3 #writer #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #kny rengoku #kny rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #demon slayer x reader #fanfiction

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kumeko · 3 years

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A/N: For @giyushinozine! I wanted to tangle with Shinobu’s growing feelings, the complicated mess of her not knowing how she feels only that their relationship isn’t the same as it was before.

…

It was raining. Standing on the threshold of an abandoned house, Shinobu breathed in the earthy air as she watched the steady downpour. Not even the birds and insects wanted to be caught in this weather, and Shinobu missed their usual song. Instead, she was serenaded by the soft plip as rain hit the hole-filled roof, the pitter-patter of droplets as they struck the earth.

This wasn’t the first storm that had caught her unawares. It probably wouldn’t be the last. If anything, a dilapidated building was better than the caves she’d hidden in before. There was no point in risking a cold by heading to the town proper and searching for an inn.

Well, there was one point. Shinobu grimaced as she looked over her shoulder. Barely visible in the gloom was Giyu. Suddenly she found herself longing for a damp cave. Maybe she could even just keep heading home; what was a feverish week in exchange for a couple of hours worth of peace? Getting trapped with Giyu was the worst luck. It had been off-putting running into him while returning from a mission, but spending the night with him?

The rain was looking more and more tempting. Shinobu stared at the dark clouds one last time before stepping back with a sigh. If she got sick and a demon attacked—she shook her head, refusing to entertain the idea any further. She could put up with Giyu until the rain stopped, at least.

Steeling herself, she turned around. The house was a small one with a simple layout. The biggest room was this first room, featuring a sunken hearth and space around for its occupants to huddle. Water leaked into the house from several sizeable holes in the ceiling, but luckily none were near the firepit. Unfortunately, while Giyu was sitting next to the hearth, he hadn’t actually started a fire. Hand on her hip, Shinobu tried to keep her irritation out of her voice as she asked, “Where’s the fire?”

He looked at her, a sleepy expression on his face, and shrugged. “It isn’t there.”

“I can see that.” Shinobu bit her cheek. This was just minute one. She had to at least make it to an hour before giving up. “Whyisn’t there a fire?”

“I didn’t start it,” he answered simply.

Maybe Kanao would visit her in jail. Shinobu gritted her teeth and quickly strode toward the center of the room. “This is why no one likes you. It’s common sense to start a fire when it’s cold.” Ignoring his surprised flinch—and honestly, why did that surprise him? He should know how everyone felt by now—, she knelt by the hearth and inspected the coal there. Oddly shaped and crumbly, they were at least dry and would hopefully kindle. “Otherwise we’ll get sick and the last thing I am doing is carrying you back.”

Giyu didn’t say anything, just watched as she pulled out her tinder. His eyes were barely visible in the half-light. At night, it would be impossible to see him at all. While that was preferable, she didn’t want to break her neck walking around this place in the dark. Luckily, it didn’t take long for the fire to take. The flames flickered to life, a thin curl of smoke rising to the roof. Immediately, the warmth hit her skin and she sat a little further back, letting the heat remove the chill from her bones. She sighed, “That’s better.”

He kept quiet. Soon, the crackling flames were the only sound in the room as they greedily gobbled up the remaining coal. Idly, Shinobu glanced at her companion. She could count the number of times she’d been alone with him with a single hand, maybe two. It was odd. They’d worked together for so long, but she’d never really thought of him before now. Maybe it was his lack of presence or the way he isolated himself. Even now, with no one around but the two of them, he kept to himself, his eyes trained on the fire.

Shinobu had never considered herself someone who needed conversation. She liked silence almost as much as she liked chatter, liked how doing nothing could sometimes be utterly comfortable. This was neither of those things. Feeling awkward and slightly unnerved, she wondered how she should break the silence. The shadows danced across his face in strange patterns. She kept adjusting her posture, her legs falling asleep as they waited, yet he hadn’t moved an inch.

In the end, she didn’t have to. Her stomach gurgled hungrily, and Shinobu immediately wrapped an arm around her waist as a mortified blush burned her neck. She snapped her attention to Giyu. Their eyes met and any hopes she had that he hadn’t noticed vanished. “I…” she mumbled, her brain running in circles as she tried to find an explanation that kept her dignity.

“Hungry?” Giyu asked.

“Yes,” she reluctantly admitted. Somehow, an hour had passed since they’d taken refuge. Even now, the rain didn’t let up, the droplets drumming on the roof as the night took over. Shinobu prided herself on her preparation, but she had planned on arriving home hours ago.

Something crinkled and she watched as Giyu pulled out a leaf-wrapped bundle. Holding it out, he offered, “You can have some.”

“I don’t need—” Her indignant response was immediately cut off as her stomach grumbled yet again. The hot blush on her neck crawled up her cheeks and there was no escaping this now. Flustered, she quickly got up and moved next to Giyu. As she sat down, her hand out to take the food, she growled, “You tell anyone about this and you’re dead.”

Confused, he cocked his head. “Why?”

She wasn’t sure if that was ‘Why would I tell anyone’ or ‘Why would I die’. She also didn’t care. How could she ever look anyone in the eye if they knew that Giyu of all people was more prepared than she was? Shaking her hand insistently, she snapped, “Does it matter?”

Giyu gave her a long, blank stare before slowly unwrapping his bundle, revealing three large onigiri. “No.”

Somehow, even when she got what she wanted, Giyu still frustrated her. What did he think of it all? Did he care? He had thawed since their last, but changes with him were as subtle as erosion on a rock. It didn’t help that he was as dense as one. Fighting down her irritation, she plucked one of the rice balls from his hand. The very round rice balls—Giyu took the ‘ball’ part literally it seemed. Still, maybe it tasted good.

A single bite dashed her hopes: the food was as tasteless as he was. Resisting the urge to gag at its blandness, she asked, “Do you know what salt is?”

“Yes.” Of course his expression remained utterly placid as he ate. Bite after bite, his face was as still as a lifeless pond. Maybe his taste buds had died long ago. Noticing her stare, he held out the last ball. “You want another?”

She couldn’t stop the grimace. “I can barely handle this one.” There was no point in nuance or tip-toeing around a matter with him. If Shinobu didn’t bluntly state it, he wouldn’t get it. “Did you make this? It’s terrible.”

“Terrible?” Shocked, he looked at the ball, then back at her. It was like kicking an ugly puppy.

“Yes, terrible. You can’t serve this to anyone.” Shinobu rolled her eyes. “How did you mess up something so simple? Even I can do this.”

“Oh.” Looking utterly devastated, he stared at the rice ball. It was impressive how broken he looked, even though his expression didn’t change much.

“Just add salt next time,” Shinobu relented, already tired of insulting him. Like this, he reminded her too much of Kanao when she’d first started learning things. Kanao. Her mind wandered to the Butterfly Estate, to the five girls waiting there. Well, perhaps four now that Kanao had her own duties. Aoi would be worried. She always worried too much. “She won’t like this,” she muttered, half to herself.

Still chewing on his riceball like a hamster, Giyu shot her an inquisitive look. “Who?”

She hadn’t intended to say that aloud. Another clumsy mistake in front of him. Maybe she should just bury him under the wisteria trees; they needed the nourishment. Reticently, she mumbled, “Aoi.”

He only looked at her, perplexed. Shinobu longed for the good old days when she didn’t care about anything. Louder now, she repeated, “Aoi. I’m late from the mission, she must be worried.”

“She isn’t,” Giyu replied immediately.

It took her a full minute to process his response. Gritting her teeth, she asked politely, “Why not?”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he stated flatly with the absolute assurance that only a complete moron had.

Last Shinobu had heard, there was another water pillar in training. They wouldn’t miss Giyu’s absence for long. Curling her hand into a fist, Shinobu glared at him. “This might be a foreign concept to you, but some people actually care about others.”

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what about him made her so angry. It couldn’t just be his rudeness—Sanemi was twice as rude and she didn’t want to murder him at every encounter. No, it had to be something deeper than that, but she didn’t want to waste her thoughts on it, on him. Focusing instead on her nails digging into her skin, she forced herself to calm down.

Now that her appetite was appeased, however badly, she listened to their surroundings once more. The rain tapped unevenly on the roof, the storm abating slightly. Unfortunately, it was still rain. She was still trapped here with him. Resigning herself to her fate, she shifted to get more comfortable one. “Even in this weather, a demon might come. We’ll have to take shifts,” she announced, rubbing the back of her neck.

Giyu nodded his agreement.

When he didn’t say anything else, Shinobu added irately, “I’ll take first watch.”

Once more, he merely nodded. Rude, lacking manners, utterly unreadable—Shinobu didn’t know how it was possible to find only new disappointments with a single person. The only thing he had going for him was his slightly above-average looks, and even that was ruined the second he did something. Fine, whatever, she thought. It wasn’t like she could sleep comfortably, knowing the only thing between her and death was him.

Leaning forward, she stoked the coals once more, embers flying as she gathered the broken rocks together. “Make sure this doesn’t disappear when it’s your turn.” Satisfied, Shinobu sat back and stretched her arms above her. Maybe she should take a walk after this and smooth out the crinks in her back. “I’ll wake you up in four hours.”

“Okay.” Crossing his arms, Giyu buried his hands in his sleeves. His eyes remained open.

“You know you can sleep, right?” she asked, just in case he didn’t understand what a ‘watch’ meant. The other pillars didn’t like him, after all. Maybe he’d never gone on a mission this long with someone other than her.

“Yes,” he nodded, his eyes still wide open. There was nothing about his stiff posture that looked like a man about to sleep.

It wasn’t worth pursuing it any further. She refused to go bald from the stress of dealing with him. And if he didn’t trust her abilities enough to rest, well, he was the one who wanted to pull an all-nighter.

Making herself comfortable, Shinobu rested her cheek on her hand as she watched the coals. It was going to be a long, uneventful night. Even demons didn’t like coming out on nights like these. In the distance, she heard an owl hoot, the rustling of leaves, the chirping of crickets. The rain almost washed it all out, a steady static noise. It had been too long since she’d had an uneventful night like this.

An hour passed. Then another. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she observed Giyu’s profile. He was just as hard to grasp from his side as he had been from the front. Maybe he’d be a mystery to her for her entire life. Tired as she was, that didn’t sound entirely bad.

“You’re strong,” he said, breaking the silence. She wasn’t sure if she was still in her watch or part way through his now.

Drowsy, she retorted, “Of course I am.”

“You’re strong,” he repeated, as though she hadn’t said anything. “So no one has to worry about you. The strong…” he paused. She could feel the weight of it. “The strong come back.”

She didn’t have to ask if that was personal experience. There was only one reason anyone joined the corps, after all. Still, Shinobu wished she was sitting across the fire, still able to see his expression. Or even just was more awake than she was now. His voice had a flavour to it. She could only imagine what he looked like.

Her eyes closed. Opened. Closed again. The next time Shinobu was aware of her surroundings, there was a warmth behind her head and a strong arm around her shoulders. Giyu’s, her fuzzy mind provided helpfully. She should be disgusted, but it was warm and comfortable, so she’d allow it just this once. His breathing was even, as always, and she fell asleep once more to the sound of his heartbeat.

When Shinobu woke up the next morning, she was alone. Curled up on the ground and a jacket covering her shoulders, but utterly alone. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly sat up and glanced around. Sunlight filtered through the holes in the roof, illuminating the place. There wasn’t hide nor hair of Giyu anywhere. It felt almost like a dream, though if it had him in it, it had to be a nightmare.

The only proof that any of it happened was his jacket on her shoulders, keeping her warm. It fell to her lap in a crumpled heap as she straightened up. Gingerly, she picked it up between two fingers, eyeing the fabric distastefully.

What, exactly, was she supposed to do with this? Returning it felt like a loss. Shinobu glanced at the hearth in front of her. She could still burn it in there; even if the coals were gone, there was plenty of dry wood in this house.

She bit her lip, studying the jacket once more. Part of her could still feel the warmth of his shoulder, hear his quiet voice. Shinobu couldn’t return it, couldn’t destroy it. Couldn’t figure out exactly what riled her up about this man. It’d be easier if she didn’t care or was truly as disgusted by him as she acted.

Sighing, she folded the damned fabric. If she couldn’t figure out what to do with it now, she’d just have to keep it until she did.

#giyushino #tomioka giyuu #shinobu kochō #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #fanfic

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quazartranslates · 3 years

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Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH43

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 43: Star Death Reality Show (XXVI)

Just like watching a poor lamb trapped in a hunter's snare, wailing would not arouse the compassion of a seasoned hunter. On the contrary, the hunter would only be excited about the delicious food dying.

Looking at Qi Leren who had been struck by lightning, Su He said faintly, "I know many ways to avoid contracts, but it’s not easy to do. Most of the methods are one-off skills or items, or there is an extremely long cooldown time. Even if you don't have one… It’s best to be careful."

Qi Leren gawked at Su He, as if he had been drained of all his strength. He didn't say a word for a long time, and his lowered head did not show anger. Only his eyelashes were shaking, as if he was almost unable to bear such a failure, and he was crying.

This long silence was not ridiculous, but sad.

It was like watching a gambler at the end of his rope, piling up all the chips on the gambling table and then losing everything.

Everything that followed seemed to be a mechanical repetition. Qi Leren once again signed his name on the parchment with no facial expression, and the signed letters were distorted by his shaking. At the moment when he put down his pen, his spine seemed to be knocked out section by section, slumping on his chair and silently watching the sunrise.

A rising sun that would never rise.

"Can I leave now?" Qi Leren asked softly, looking deeply tired.

"Anytime, but I suggest you stay a little longer or even get some sleep. Anyway, I have adjusted the time flow rate in this area for you, so you won’t be delayed too long." Su He, like a considerate friend who fully thought of him, gave him friendly advice.

But Qi Leren didn't want to stay any longer. He was willing to face the monster in the institute, and didn't want to face Su He. So he stood up, and the chair rudely dragged a harsh sound across the ground.

"I'm leaving," Qi Leren said stubbornly, his tone carrying the anger of being deceived.

"If you insist, go ahead." Su He wasn’t reluctant, anyway. His purpose had been achieved.

The Witch of Lust looked at Qi Leren curiously, because his attitude was disrespectful. As a native devil accustomed to the hierarchical atmosphere of the underworld, she didn't quite understand the relationships between human beings. Sometimes a worm could say "no" to an elephant, which was really interesting in her eyes.

To be fair, Su He was not a strict leader. If the object of comparison was the Devil of Power who had a strong desire to control, then he was an easygoing boss. If you wanted to compare him with the Devil of Slaughter, then he was a perfect boss—at least he wouldn't go crazy and dare to kill anyone, leaving him in his current state of lying half-dead under lava. The Devil of Fraud was quite tolerant of his subordinates, sometimes even almost deliberately indulgent towards them. He seldom pointed out your mistakes, but every time you made a mistake, he would remember it, but he would not show it. This attitude made people feel that he didn't care about them. This slightly malicious indulgence contributed to the weakness and self-deception in human nature, and he watched and waited with great interest until you finally crossed the boundaries he set for you...

Then you would find that you had lost everything. Even if you knelt at his feet and kissed the tips of his shoes and begged him to give you another chance, he wouldn't look at you again.

This extreme gentleness and extreme coldness combined to form a contradictory and complicated person. The witches favored him and feared him. Even the Witch of Lust, who was famous for her debauchery, was much more disciplined in front of him. At least when she appeared in front of Su He, she would pick clothes from her closet that didn’t show her off. When Su He told her to dress properly to entertain guests, she would always find a dress that wrapped her from head to foot. However, in order to express her dissatisfaction, she didn't mind expressing her protest in a small way by means of excessive obedience. Her boss didn't care about this level of protest.

He was really unpredictable sometimes.

She had thought that trying to deceive the Devil of Fraud would make people lose his favor and even irritate him, but Su He's reaction was just the opposite. It seemed that he had added ten points in his heart to this audacious human being.

The Witch of Lust yawned a little and watched the poor man hesitate by the chair. She looked at Su He's face and asked politely, "Shall I take you out, baby?"

"Thank you," Qi Leren, who was worried about how to leave, said quickly.

Su He’s left hand on the armrest of the chair supported his cheek. He asked without warning, "Who gave you the necklace around your neck?"

Qi Leren's cold sweat came back again. In these past few minutes in the field, he had experienced great ups and downs, and his nerves were over-stressed. He had become a frightened bird. He was just glad that he had successfully crossed the border, and he was ready to keep this state and leave quickly. Who knew that Su He would come out with something else?

Fortunately, Su He hadn't found it.

He hadn't found that when he signed his name for the first time, he hadn't used any skill cards at all.

No, he hadn't.

He had made a wonderful deduction—he had successfully deceived Su He once, using an item of unknown origin as the laptop. So this time, under almost the same precondition, would Su He still fall for it? Would he believe that he had honestly signed the contract and was ready to fulfill it? He was not an obedient man in Su He’s eyes.

The best way to dispel Su He's doubts was to make him feel that he had seen through him, expose him personally, watch him suffer, despair, and collapse, and then watch him give in.

So he had had a bold plan, and he had decided to take a gamble. Then he had succeeded.

He was so ecstatic that he had to lower his head to hide his inner secret and fanatical joy and let that passion explode as fireworks in his heart.

However, he also had to consider that this decision would bring him great risks in the future—when he was really raised to a half-field, how should he explain it to Su He?

This concern slightly diluted the excited mood, and even the last resort was shattered by Su He’s sudden question, which made Qi Leren tremble with fear.

"This aura... It’s the Prophet’s?" Su He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Qi Leren did not say yes, nor did he say no. He asked, "Do you know the Prophet?"　　

As if they could never talk well, Su He also threw out a rhetorical question: "Don't you think that the Village of Dawn is too similar to the Village of Dusk?"

Qi Leren was stupefied. So, it turned out that this field was not a "field that imitates the scenery of the Village of Dawn" as Su He had once said, but was the real Village of Dawn.

But if the Village of Dawn was a field, then the Village of Dusk...

Qi Leren suddenly understood. The Prophet who slept beneath the Courthouse and spent most of his time in the cold ice pool, it turned out that he had been silently supporting the Village of Dawn that sheltered mankind. As a player, he did not know how to escape the sanctions of time. He had even spent more than 20 years completing compulsory tasks, and had survived to this day.

"A naive idealist inherited Maria's will, created a box of time with the belief of protecting, and fixed the newly established refuge under dusk forever. His original force was 'time'. Originally, he was the one most likely to evade mission sanctions, if he had not lost to the box." Su He's expression was full of compassion and tenderness.

The Prophet’s original force? Qi Leren seemed to understand. He knew that some of the higher demons had original forces, such as jealousy, lust, despair... They were getting stronger and stronger while approaching the original force. At the level of the three Devil Kings, they had almost merged with the original force.

But did the Prophet, a field-level human being, also have his own original force?

His force, was it time?

Qi Leren's heart was full of curiosity and doubt, but Su He had no intention to solve his doubts: "Go, don't challenge your limits with your life, you’ll never know what kind of miracle you will create. Although 99.9% of people end up dead through this process, I sincerely hope that you are the exception, because I have some expectations for you.

"Qi Leren, today's adventure is only the first step. I am waiting for the day when you complete the transformation," Su He said.

The beautiful Village of Dawn began to become blurred, and even Su He's voice gradually drifted away, as if separated by a dream.

When Qi Leren came to his senses, he still stood in the corridor on the lowest level of the institute, and only a few seconds had passed.

It was the fourth day of the game... No, the zero hour had passed, and it was the fifth day. He didn't know if the army’s ship could arrive. He had reason to suspect that it wouldn't come too quickly. After all, the rescue was always late after all the problems were solved.

Su He said that he had released the octopus in the underground glacier, which was definitely more difficult than the ones he had encountered before. He needed to upgrade his equipment, such as finding a rocket launcher like what Mark had used against him.

This was in the institute’s armoury, but Qi Leren hadn’t taken it since he hadn’t expected to use it. He decided to double back and look for it. In addition, we should find a NPC that was still alive, and take them to the instrument that could detect whether they had become a host, and he hoped to meet Dr. Lu and Du Yue along the way...

Qi Leren returned to the stairs and began to go up. When he passed the power room, he went in again, restarted the power supply, and restored power to the whole underground research institute.

With the light, he was feeling much better. Qi Leren finally recovered from the frightening meeting just now, stopped thinking about Su He, and absorbed himself in preparing for the next challenge. According to game logic, there must be a restock of supplies before the war. Unfortunately, the copy world did not necessarily come according to game logic, so he had to rely on himself. He didn't want to rush unprepared into that horrible boss battle.

Suddenly there was a noise in the corner of the power distribution room. Qi Leren suddenly looked towards it and raised the gun in his hand, shouting, "Who?"

"...It's me." He Yi stood up. His condition looked worse than before. He was emaciated and almost withered. "Mark came in, I met him!"

Qi Leren was taken aback and realized that what he said was in reference to when Qi Leren had wanted to leave the institute through the laser corridor before, but He Yi, who had made an agreement with him to cut off the power supply, did not cut off the power in time—because at that time, Mark had moved the debris in Annie's basement and had entered the institute to attack He Yi.

"I’ve taken care of him, and Annie, Xue Jiahui, and Francis; all four of them were parasitized," Qi Leren said calmly.

He Yi looked at him in astonishment: "How did you do it?"

If it weren't for the enemy at present, Qi Leren would still use the rhetoric of "an apostle of God" to fool him. Unfortunately, now that his Prophet's Heart skill was cooling down, he didn't need to continue acting. He simply said: "It's a long story. Let's talk about it when we have time. Right now we’re in danger..."

"I know." He Yi leaned wearily against the wall and smiled bitterly. "It’s come out."

"What?" Qi Leren became nervous.

"That monster..." He Yi looked desperately at the ceiling above his head, as if he were an outlaw being chased by troops behind the cliff ahead, and murmured in a low voice, "We can't escape."

"Do you... Do you know something?" Qi Leren finally asked the question that lingered in his mind.

For a long time, He Yi's attitude had been a bit strange. Qi Leren hadn't thought much at first, but with the discovery of the plot, he had to face up to this problem—He Yi, he was an insider.

"Why is there an amphioctopus here? Why did I happen to find a basement when I was kidnapped by Mark? Why am I able to blow up the access to the research institute accurately but I am safe and sound? Why can this institute’s power supply, which has been off for many years, still be used? Why do I know where there are weapons and how to use the equipment? Have you thought about these questions?" He Yi asked, one question after another.

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Editor’s Notes: To clarify, the “forces” mentioned in this chapter are along the line of forces of nature but on a more human scale, ie. the “forces” the witches and demons have as their titles. A closer translation would have been to use “power”, but I wanted to make sure it was distinct since “power” is already used in several other contexts in this novel.

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[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

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hi, i am looking for a very specific johnlock case fic on ao3 with an au where they are in america and on the oregon trail, possibly traveling to wyoming, or probably just western america!lock in generally. thanks! :)

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, I don’t know which fic this is, but I have a few American AUs in my MFL list, maybe one of them is it? If anyone knows which one it is for sure, let us know!!

AMERICAN AUs (TO READ)

Gone and Changed by cwb (E, 4,617 w., 1 Ch. || Farm/Ranch American AU || Teenlock, Friends to Lovers, Angst, High School, Summer Vacation, Swimming, Hot Weather, Oral Sex, Car Sex, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Falling in Love, Mutual Pining) – John and Sherlock are best friends, until John goes and changes. Part 1 of the Just Like That series

At All Material Time by dizzylittlesunflowers (T, 7,029 w., 1 Ch. || 1930′s Farm/Ranch AU || One Shot) – When John Watson first met Sherlock Holmes, the dark-haired stranger had told him he'd never make the mistake of falling in love. Set in 1930's Southern America, the mysterious Holmes family move into the deserted house opposite John Watson's farm. Intrigued with the strange newcomers, the young farmer lets his priorities slip. But not without consequence.

How to Sleep with Your Enemy in One Semester by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (M, 9,699 w., 6 Ch. || College / Uni Professors AU || Professor John/Sherlock, Enemies to Lovers, Rivalry, Bickering, Office Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Domestics, John’s Beard, Idiots in Love, Humour) – Visiting professors John Watson and Sherlock Holmes are longtime academic rivals — and now unwilling office mates — at a prestigious American university. When their tense arguments give way to an undercurrent of mutual attraction, their war of wits turns into something more personal — until it goes off course. A party, a phone number, and deserted office at night might just bring them back together.

The Rainbow Connection by honeybee_motorcyles (M, 13,161 w., 7 Ch. || Post-TRF, Autistic Sherlock, American Road Trip, Understanding, Communication, PTSD Sherlock, Regression, Aspergers, Angst and Fluff) – A Road Trip is the best cure for Sherlock and John's relationship.

Wild Skies by darkestbliss (E, 13,339+ w., 9/? Ch. || WiP || American Farm/Ranch AU || Age Difference, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Bottom Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Teen Sherlock, Summer Camp, Older John) – Sherlock Holmes, show jumping champion turned druggie, is sent to a small, remote ranch in Wyoming for the summer as part of his rehabilitation process. There, he meets John Watson, a beautiful and good-natured ranch hand who was raised by the West.

The Reawakening of John Watson by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (E, 20,463 w., 14 Ch. || Historical 1800s American/Victorian AU || Artist Sherlock, Writer John, Angst with Happy Ending, Bisexual John, Period Typical Homophobia, Sensuality, Experienced Sherlock, Pining, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Love Confessions, Flirty Sherlock, Frottage, Outdoor Sex, Trust Issues, Minor Character Death, Sexual Tension, Colorado / London, Rimming, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, POV John) – Trying to escape his troubled past in England, John Watson has started a new life in the American West. When he meets the handsome artist Sherlock Holmes, a smoldering attraction is sparked, complicating his quiet, carefully guarded existence. Maybe taking a risk with Sherlock is exactly what John needs to feel alive again...

Learning Curve by thpontiacbandit (M, 41,422 w., 22 Ch. || Teacher / Parent AU || America, Fluff and Smut, Parentlock, Frottage) – John is a Kindergarten teacher. One of his students, a boy named Henry Holmes, refuses to speak in school. John is determined to get to the bottom of it, and that is how he meets Sherlock Holmes.

The Bone Fiddle by htebazytook & Vulgarweed (E, 61,167 w., 13 Ch. || American Historical 1970′s AU || Appalachia, West Virginia, Vietnam War, Watergate, Murder Mystery, Case Fic, Drama, Humour, Romance) – In November 1973, Vietnam vet John Watson returns to his family's old home in Arthel County, West Virginia, deep in coal country. His low expectations include recuperation and boredom. Instead he finds a ruined landscape, a series of grisly murders, and one of the world's weirdest neighbors. Part 1 of the The Bone Fiddle series

Next Right: Welcome to Westbound Rest Area 818 by elwinglyre (E, 73,618 w., 16 Ch. || American Unilock AU || Bunk Beds, Anonymous Sex, Homophobia, Closeted John, Roommates, Angst with Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Music, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt John, BAMF John) – Sherlock Holmes dreams of escape from his smothering family and space to breathe. Studying chemistry at the University of Michigan, he's almost far enough away to fill his lungs. Almost. While John Watson dreams of being a doctor, he also dreams of being with another man. John knows that with hard work and study, he can make the first a reality, but he's certain the second can never be. Until a secret encounter in the dark at Rest Area 818 changes everything. When Sherlock meets his new roommate, John Watson, he sees a man in the closet. Sherlock hides from no one. Except from his own family, a detective inspector who wants his evidence returned, and his secret encounter at Rest Area 818. Setting late 1970s, Michigan, USA. POV third person alternates between John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock, P.I. by Callie4180 (E, 83,264 w., 11 Ch. || Magnum P.I. Fusion || Past Relationships, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Canon-Typical Violence, Stalking, Creepy Moriarty) – For the Fall TV Sherlock fusion project. Sherlock, P.I. is an American television show that follows the exciting adventures of genius private investigator Sherlock Homes and his friends as they live their lives on the beautiful island of Oahu in Hawaii. Sherlock solves crimes as he wrestles with the ghosts and demons of his past.

Boyfriend Material by PoppyAlexander (E, 151,282 w., 58 Ch. || American Hockey AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Closeted John, POV John, Pining, Casual Sex / Hook Ups, Rom-Com) – Boston Brawlers' team captain John Watson longs for two things: a championship before he retires, and a boyfriend. Assigned to room with goaltender Sherlock Holmes--known around the league as both a genius and a "weird dude"– on Brawlers' roadtrips, John discovers the things they have in common that lead to an easy friendship and a convenient arrangement.

Nine and a Half Weeks by CumberCurlyGirl and Kameo (E, 175,094+ w., 35/? Ch. || WiP || American AU || Different First Meeting, Daddy Kink, Bottomlock, Anal Plug, Riding Crops, Spanking, Light Bondage, Anal/Oral, Aftercare, Posh John, Virgin Sherlock, Homophobia, Sugar Daddy John, Rimming, Coming in Pants, Light Dom/Sub, Past Sherlock / Victor, Light BDSM, Public Sex, John in a Kilt, Vibrators, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is about to graduate from high school in midwestern America. Despite his intelligence, his prospects are bleak due to poverty, an indifferent, alcoholic father and poor choices. One day, at work, he sells a riding crop to a handsome blonde Brit and his life is changed. He doesn't know what hit him - until he does. This is a story of a journey to love and self-acceptance and explores many themes along the way: drug abuse, grief, coming out, age difference, consent. Lots of sex but so much more.

Just Like That Series by cwb (E, 201,462+ w. across 4 works || Series WiP || American Teenager / Farmer AU || Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Angst, High School, Summer Vacation, Swimming, Friends to Lovers, Car Sex, Mutual Pining, Falling in Love, Kissing) – John and Sherlock are best friends, until John goes and changes.

The Devil's Blaze by DulcimerGecko (E, 296,121+ w., 25/? Ch. || WiP || American Cowboy / Rodeo AU || Vet John, Case Fic, Texas, Slow Build, Manipulative Sherlock, Masturbation, Developing Relationship, Dancing Lessons, Drunk Sherlock, Safe Sex, Blow Jobs, Horny John, Cowboy Sherlock, Cowboy John) – Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only Consulting Equestrian Expert, is the individual called when horse owners are out of their depth. At the behest of his elder brother, Sherlock travels to Amarillo, Texas, to investigate why a valuable bucking stallion has seemingly gone berserk for no reason and killed his trainer. The local authorities suspect the owner of fraud and possible animal abuse, but Mycroft sees parallels to an unsolved case from the 1980s wherein a racehorse killed a groom. Complicating the situation is John Watson: bronco rider, rodeo veterinarian and one of case’s primary suspects... Part 1 of the The Devil's Blaze series

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #to read #american au #help steph find fics #Anonymous

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lunarsaga · 3 years

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EPISODE 5: The Band of Seven, Resurrected

WELCOME TO EPISODE 5! So far, episode 6 is up on my Patreon already, and episode 7 is in progress. Support me on Patreon to see stuff first!

IMPORTANT: I am starting to integrate the art into the story a little differently! Instead of just visualizing a moment in the scene, the image will replace the lines it's depicting. It'll work more like a hybrid graphic novel, that way it'll flow better. (So don't skip over the art, read it like you would a western comic!)

Reminder: [Dialogue like this is English!]

EPISODE 5, LESSGO! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

It was a bit of a long flight between the bone-eater’s well and the spot where Luna last left her sister and her friends.

They were still headed northeast, still trying to find Naraku. But Luna’s supply of ammunition only lasted so long, and she decided she probably needed more medical supplies if they were all gonna make it past this war with Naraku. So she’d gone back to the modern era for a few days, and called Alice to get her connections with other Hunters in Japan—so Luna could make more Sacred Salt rounds without having to explain to international customs why she was getting a bunch of empty shotgun shells, non-native herbs, and a few other assorted (weird) things she needed.

So she’d gone home for a few days. Thankfully, she didn’t have to walk; Airisu (who still objected to Luna calling her ‘Alice’, but agreed to the simple nickname ‘Ai’) in full demon form could fly pretty fast, but she ran out of steam after about an hour. It took them a full day (including rest time) to get back to the village, and the same on the way back.

But before they joined back up with their friends, Luna had a stop to make.

It ain’t hard to miss, she thought snarkily, he’s like a damn homing beacon.

Finally, among all the green of the forests, she spotted a speck of white. Easy. “There they are!”

Ai set them down just behind the little group of travelers—Rin, the little imp Jaken, the big horse-dragon (Ah-Un, Luna believed?), and heading the line was, of course, Lord Fussy Britches himself. Rin spotted them before they touched down, and greeted delightfully:

“Miss Luna!”

The Hunter’s arrival brought the others to a halt, and for some reason, Luna found a very smug satisfaction in the incredibly irritated, over-the-shoulder side eye she got from Sesshomaru. But she paid him no mind; she was here for Rin.

Luna held out her hand, unfolding her fingers to reveal three beautiful pearls, strung on a little leather cord. Each of them glinted with an odd pink sheen and were warm to the touch; anyone with any sort of spiritual senses might’ve picked up on the soft energy radiating from them.

Luna tied the cord tightly at the ends and moved to slip it over the little girl’s head.

“As if she would ever need such a ridiculous thing!”

Luna swore one of these days, she was gonna drop kick that little frog. “Look, dude—”

“It’s Jaken, insolent human!”

“—I’m just looking out for her. No need to burst a blood vessel.”

“What is she to you?”

Luna was actually shocked to be addressed by Sesshomaru himself. He was still giving her the side eye, but there was less irritation and more of… something Luna couldn’t place. Maybe she was flirting with death, but she couldn’t resist.

She stood tall, chin high, and responded: “What is she to you?”

There was the anger: contained, but frigid and harsh as the Arctic behind those amber eyes. Sesshomaru did not answer her, but Jaken sure did.

“How dare you, human! Your nerve is surpassed only by your stupidity to speak to Lord Sesshomaru that way! Surely you wish for death!”

Only sometimes. “Can it, Kermit!” She snapped at him, “I ask because he’s always leaving her alone, with nothing but you to protect her! You, who are half her size and don’t have much in the way of defense!” She moved her challenging gaze to Sesshomaru again, steadfast. “So I ask again, what is she to you, if you leave her with barely any protection so often? Because to me, she’s a friend and I care about her, so I brought her these as a last resort option, in case you’re not around and she needs help.”

There it was, that unreadable expression again. Sesshomaru was definitely incomparable at hiding his true emotions—something Luna could absolutely not stand. Tense silence hung in the air for a moment, before Luna shrugged, holding her hands up.

“Hey, think of it this way,” She said, trying a sly little smile, “You’re a busy guy. It’s one less thing you have to worry about. And if she never needs them, at least it’s a pretty necklace.”

Man, this guy was good at keeping quiet. But now, the icy glare was gone. Luna swore she could see just the tiniest arc of a silver eyebrow before the demon turned back around on the path they’d all been heading.

“Jaken, let’s go.”

Flabbergasted, Jaken tripped over himself trying to follow. “Y-yes milord!”

Grinning, Luna got back down to Rin’s level. “You take care, okay kid?”

“I will! And thank you so much for these— I don’t think I’ll need them because Lord Sesshomaru always comes to save me, but I’ll wear them anyway!”

“That’s all I ask,” This little angel was definitely gonna need it at some point. “But if you do need me, I’ll always be there for you, okay? I promise.”

The smile on Rin’s face could’ve melted the ice caps. “Thank you.”

Luna stopped her as she started to leave. “Hold on, one more thing. Each one only works once before it shatters, so you gotta save them for when you’re really in trouble, okay?”

“Okay, I will! Bye, Miss Luna!” Rin grinned, waving at her friend before hurrying after the demons.

Luna chuckled, turning back to Ai for a second before something occurred to her. “Hey, Sesshomaru!”

He didn’t turn to look at her this time, but he did pause in his walking.

Good enough. “I heard there was something going down in the Northeast—direction of the Ox and Tiger. Something to do with Naraku. Thought you might like to know.” She didn’t wait to see if he heard or registered what she said; she just hopped back on Ai’s back, and the two of them took off.

“I hope you know conflating bravery with stupid pride is more than likely to get you killed one of these days.” Ai said as she lifted into the sky.

“Oh most definitely,” Luna laughed. “But as much of a pompous man-child as he is, you can tell he cares for that girl more than he’s willing to admit.”

“That may be, but he’ll definitely kill you if you keep disrespecting him.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, for Rin’s sake.” Luna’s voice was soft, carried off by the wind. “That little angel’s been through enough, she deserves someone in her corner.”

~ ~ ~

Finally catching sight of their friends again was a bit of a relief for both Luna and Ai. It had been a long couple of days, going all the way home and coming back. Part of Luna hoped they’d get just a little bit of rest before whatever shit hit the fan next, but another part knew the odds on that were pretty low. Still, it was nice to be back.

Kagome was the first to spot them as they flew in. “It’s Luna!”

“Luna’s back!” Shippo proclaimed joyfully.

“Hey, y’all,” Luna greeted as Ai touched down. She hopped off the demon’s back as her friends offered their greetings. “What’d I miss?” She asked.

Miroku was the one to answer. “Quite a lot. It seems that we may encounter a new enemy: the local villagers recently informed us of a group of mercenaries called the Band of Seven. The villagers believe these ruthless killers may have been brought back from the dead.”

With a grin on her face, Luna shrugged at the idea. “Undead mercs, huh? Nothin’ we can’t handle.” She held up her fist for her sister to bump it, and as Ai changed back to her human form, Luna noticed their little group was smaller than it should’ve been. “Where’s Sango?”

Kagome bumped fists with her sister, smiling at Luna’s nonchalant comment. “She went off with Kilala. I sensed a Jewel Shard nearby earlier… so I think she may have gone to look for Kohaku.”

Luna didn’t have time to respond. Off in the distance, she heard the distinctive echo of a sound she was all too familiar with.

Inuyasha hopped up onto a tree limb, hoping to get a look at what was happening. He couldn’t see it, but he sure as hell could smell it. “And it ain’t from just a handful of people, either.”

So much for a second to rest, Luna chuckled to herself as she tightened the straps on her backpack and immediately kicked into gear. “What’re we waiting for, then?”

And off they were, charging headlong into danger as always. Luna could sense something was up; more so than usual. The stench of blood was never a good sign in the first place, but there was something else setting off warning bells. Something she couldn’t put a finger on.

The smell got stronger and stronger, until… they reached its source. Despite the amount of nasty shit she’d seen in her ten years of hunting supernatural monsters, there were some things that still turned her stomach, and seeing a single human being standing in a veritable ring of blood and gore was definitely one of them. His black hair was pulled into a twist; his lips were painted red, he had blue tattoos like tear tracks under each eye, and one side of his kimono was tucked up under his belt. The dude was just squatting in the middle of the carnage, eyeballing the barrel of a matchlock gun like it was his first time seeing one (which, hell, it might be, she thought to herself; in this time, they would’ve only recently been invented). He seemed completely unbothered by the dozen and a half bodies of freshly murdered warriors and their horses surrounding him.

Inuyasha was the one to get to the scene just ahead of the others, calling back over his shoulder: “Stay back! Don’t come over here!”

Instinctively, Luna remained in front of her sister, her arm out to try and block her view. Her stomach was churning, and her hand was poised to pull her gun if needed. No way this guy could be human… right?

“Did… that one person do all this?” Kagome’s voice was a shocked whisper.

It was then that the guy in the middle noticed them. He stood, his sword over his shoulder and his head cocked slightly to the side.

“Are you the one I’ve been looking for?” He asked, a grin on his face as he shielded his eyes from the sun. “Are you Inuyasha?!”

“Got a bad feeling about this.” Luna mumbled, “That guy isn't a demon, is he?”

“I don’t think so,” Kagome uttered back to her, “I don’t sense a demonic aura….”

“How’d you know my name?!” Inuyasha demanded.

He got no answer out of the guy with the sword. Instead, the guy squealed: “You’re adorable!”

A dumbfounded silence fell over the group. Luna glanced around at the others to make sure she didn’t just lose her mind—but no, the general consensus among her friends was along the lines of ‘what the actual fuck?’

“I especially love those fuzzy ears of yours!” The guy continued, licking his lips. “I want them~”

Alright, so this guy was nuts. Luna had had enough of ignoring the bad vibe she was picking up from him. She dropped her bag next to Kagome’s bike and readied herself for a fight: detached the ammo bag and shotgun holster from her pack and slung them over her shoulder, slipped her short sword through one of the belt loops on her jeans, and pulled her shotgun to make sure it was in hand and loaded. She kept her eyes moving back and forth between Inuyasha and the dude with the sword during the next exchange:

“Who are you?” Inuyasha demanded, “What are you after? You don’t smell like a living person, you reek like corpses and graveyard soil!”

No answer.

“Inuyasha,” Miroku said in realization: “Could he be—?”

“Yep,” Inuyasha confirmed, before calling out to the guy with the sword again: “Some villagers were talking! They said some disgusting specter rose up from the grave. That’d be you, I presume!”

Right, zombies, Luna thought to herself; if he really is undead, the Sacred Salt won’t do as much as it would a demon… It’d sting, but what I really need is-… She smirked and holstered her gun again, grabbing a different weapon from the bottom of her bag.

“Are you one of the Band of Seven?!” Miroku asked of the specter as Luna was tuning back in. “Answer me!”

After a long pause as the specter seemed to size the monk up, his response was even worse than before. “Inuyasha really is good looking, but you’re pretty sexy yourself~”

Luna snorted so hard she thought she was gonna eject her brain through her nose. Ai whacked her in the arm as a warning.

“No one minds if I suck him up, do they?” Miroku grumbled.

“No.” Inuyasha said, flatly.

“Hold on!” Kagome said, “He’s got a Sacred Jewel Shard! He must’ve been revived with the power of the Shard!”

“So that was what I was sensing,” Luna mumbled, “but why does it feel off...?”

“Where’d you get the Jewel Shard?!” Inuyasha once again attempted to pose a question to their opponent, only to once again receive a weird, adoring response:

“You know, you’re cute when you’re angry~!”

“Shut up!” Inuyasha shouted, jumping forward and drawing his sword. “Alright, dead man, you’d better start talking to me, and I want real answers!”

The expression on the specter’s face shifted from one of reverence to one more sadistic as he regarded Tetsusaiga. “That’s an interesting sword you have there… let’s see whose is stronger.” He lifted his own sword, making an odd motion around his head and shoulders with it as if he were gearing up for something. “Yours or mine?!”

When he brought his arm down, something that looked almost like a bolt of silver lightning shot from his blade. Inuyasha barely had the chance to block it as it cut an arc through the air toward him.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome called out in surprise.

“Stay back!” Miroku threw his arm out in an attempt to shield the others. “It’s some kind of trick sword!”

“That’s my cue!” Ai shifted into full demon form, jerking her head at the sisters and the little fox. “All aboard!”

Kagome climbed on no issue, but Luna glanced at Miroku, who made no move to follow them. “You coming?”

“I’ll be alright, you keep them safe.” Miroku said, resolute. Not about to argue, Luna climbed on the demon’s back and Ai leapt into the air above the fight.

“You gonna be okay holding all of us after that long flight?” Luna asked her friend.

“I’m fine, it’s the same weight as you with your pack on.” Ai sassed back.

“Yeah well, fuck me for being prepared,” Luna laughed, starting to prep the other weapon she’d brought.

Kagome managed to tear her eyes from the confrontation below to try and see what her sister was doing. “What did you bring, Luna?”

Luna grinned as she clicked the last accessory into place, then turned back to show her sister. “This? This is my baby.” She held up her favorite weapon: it was a fully-customized folding compound crossbow as long as Luna’s arm. She pressed a release on the side, and the arms shot into place, making both Shippo and Kagome jump.

“Whoa!” The fox demon exclaimed, “What kind of a weapon is that?!”

“It’s a crossbow, Shippo,” Kagome explained, “It’s kind of like my bow, but the arrows are smaller and it’s easier to fire.”

“Self-loading, too,” Luna smirked as she strung it up, “The ‘arrows’ are called bolts or darts. This thing can shoot way faster than a longbow, and since we’re dealing with Zombie Harley Quinn down there—” She grabbed a bolt from her ammo bag to show it to them, “—we’re gonna need these. They’re tipped with pure silver. Great for dealing with Vampires, Werewolves, The Undead, and The Unholy.”

Shippo reached out to touch it, but Kagome stopped him, shaking her head rapidly. “It’s safe to assume you shouldn’t touch anything Luna has in her bag, Shippo.”

The kid swallowed nervously. “G-got it...”

Below them, the fight continued. Inuyasha could barely avoid each strike of the snakelike sword, and his opponent only seemed to be having more and more fun.

“What do you think of Jakotsu of the Band of Seven, huh?!” He shouted as he swung the sword once more.

“Not too much!” Inuyasha came back at him with Tetsusaiga, but to no avail.

Kagome gasped. “He needs help!”

“That’s what this baby’s for,” Luna grinned, patting her crossbow. “Ai, can you stay out of reach of the sword but get me close enough to shoot?!”

“It’ll take a miracle!”

“Better start praying, then,” Luna lined up the shot, finger still as stone on the trigger. There was a familiar voice in the back of her head; she could hear her father saying: “Aim for where they’re gonna be, not where they are.”

I know, dad. She tried not to sigh audibly as she managed to get Jakotsu’s head in her crosshairs and pulled the trigger, quick as a viper.

And… almost missed him.

The consecrated silver bolt seemed to burn through the air as it shot just centimeters shy of the specter’s nose and grazed his arm, burning a hole in his kimono. He whipped his attention to the woman who shot it.

“How dare you interfere?!” He snarled, rearing his arm back and whipping his blade toward them.

Luna felt her stomach drop.

“You idiot!” Ai snapped at her, trying to fly out of range of the sword as Kagome and Shippo both clung, screaming, to Luna’s back. Just as the sword arched toward them, there was a familiar cry of:

“HIRAIKOTSU!”

And Jakotsu’s blade was then tangled around the aforementioned boomerang. All three riding on Ai’s back sighed in relief when they saw Sango swoop in on Kilala. Ai touched down just as Kilala did, transforming into her human form and unceremoniously dumping the sisters on their asses.

“Are you all okay?” Sango called over to them.

“We’re fine!” Shippo answered.

“Perfect timing, Sango!” Kagome said.

“Some weapon, Luna!” Ai huffed in the Hunter’s direction. Luna just stuck her tongue at her.

Jakotsu was practically red in the face, shrieking in frustration: “What is with all you vile women?! Can’t you see I’m trying to battle Inuyasha?!” In the same breath, he whipped his sword again, toward Sango this time. The movement freed Hiraikotsu, and ended up leaving a small slice on Sango’s arm as Jakotsu pulled it back.

“Stay out of this!” He continued, “None of you will interfere!”

But their “interference” had served Inuyasha well enough: it gave him just the opportunity he needed to rear back and punch the specter in the face.

“Shut up! I’m tired of listening to your pointless babble!” Inuyasha growled.

Jakotsu grunted as he tumbled back, then rubbed his cheek and pouted like a kicked puppy. “That was cruel…”

“Oh, get over it!” Inuyasha snapped, “Now tell me who gave you the Sacred Jewel Shard before I have to seriously hurt you!”

Kagome and Miroku rushed to see if Sango was okay, but she assured them that it was just a graze; she was fine. Her attention was more on the subject at hand.

“I have a feeling that the shard came from Naraku,” She said, somberly. She looked at Kagome. “When you sensed a Jewel Shard earlier… it was Kohaku. I saw the Saimiyosho around him as well.”

“That means that your brother is still under Naraku’s control…” Miroku said. Sango nodded.

Luna had set her weapon down next to her backpack, and came back with a bandage for Sango’s arm. Her mind was going at a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how the hell they were gonna handle this—first an undead band of Ronin, now they have something to do with Naraku. What was Naraku playing at...?

“Gotta wonder what the hell is next…” Luna mumbled sarcastically.

Seconds later, she would regret asking. A cloud of black smoke poured over the cliffside, drifting right toward them.

Like he knew what was happening, Jakotsu got up and collected his sword. “Inuyasha! You should get out of here while you can! Bye!” And with that, he was just… gone.

“What the hell—” Inuyasha broke off with a startled yell when the cloud reached him. “Its poison!”

“But where’s it coming from?!” Miroku wondered.

“We need to move.” Luna reassembled her bag in less than thirty seconds—side effect of doing it so often. “We can figure out what the hell is going on when we’re safely away from here!”

Why do I feel like we stepped into something huge here? Luna thought to herself as the group of friends moved away from the cloud of gas.

#fanfic #inuyasha oc #inuyasha au #the lunar saga #kagome higurashi #inuyasha fanart #inuyasha #sesshomaru #sango #miroku #shippo

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enkelimagnus · 3 years

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A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 11, 2942 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for.

Read on AO3

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Vex had succeeded in evading Vax’s questions about the bow.

She hadn’t really given him the option to speak at all. After resting for the night, her exhaustion had melted away and left all the space for anger. She’d driven out on her truck, not on the motorcycle, but that was only because the bike wouldn’t go on the snow very well. She’d just wanted to get to one of the temples fast.

They let her walk right into a fucking trap. They hid this from her and she could have died. There is going to be a scar on her shoulder, even with the healing she’s received. She wants to scream at all of them.

What if she’s not the first one to get hit by whatever the fuck the fiend is capable of doing? What if there are bodies literring that castle, bodies of innocent people who walked in on a fiend and died because no one fucking warned them?

Her rage carries her through the whole drive, until she stops in a furious screech of tires not far from the temple and basically runs to it. It carries her as she slams her whole body into the door and it bursts open. She doesn’t care about the bruises she’ll have after this.

She’s lucky, she guesses. They’re all there. Pike, and Grog, both priests and Cassandra. Somehow, the latter’s presence is no surprise. They were acting a little weird about everything, after all.

“What the fuck is up with the thing in the castle and why did none of you bother telling me about it?” Vex roars.

She can feel her hands shaking as she balls them into fists, trying to canalize her anger at least somewhat. She’s a professional, she can’t go and yell the heads off of clergy. Or maybe she can. Maybe she needs to, right now, because they let her walk into an incredibly dangerous situation.

Grog is still holding up his axe. He doesn't look specifically aggressive but she knows he’s ready to defend his friends against her if necessary. She appreciates that, even in this situation.

“You saw him?” Cassandra asks, standing up. “Does he… look alright?”

Vex blinks.

She wasn’t expecting this. Cassandra seems concerned, but more about the thing than about the fact Vex was in close contact with it and could have died.

“He’s a smoking fiend in the shape of a humanoid and I don’t know what kind of shit he packs but it made a hole in my shoulder. A big one!” Vex snaps back. “That doesn’t sound alright to me.”

Cassandra’s face hardens in as neutral of a face as Vex has ever seen. Pike reaches for them, gently putting a hand on their arm, beckoning them to sit back down.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Pike says quietly. “Do you need more healing?”

Vex shakes her head. “No. I have a couple of Healing Spells, and my brother gave me a potion. I’m fine.”

She’s mad that they’re showing concern, when they should have told her this was a threat. Pike and Grog make it all worse. They knew, when they took down the Barbed Devil, that it wasn’t the fiend Vex had sensed. And yet, they let her be fooled, let her believe that she’d done her job correctly.

“Lady Vex’ahlia, I think you should sit down,” Father Reynal says then, with his serene priest façade that Vex wants to smash through right now.

Grog gets up to bring another chair and they all stare at her until she moves and sits down at the table. They all settle back down.

There’s a large file on the table, closed and title-less. Vex raises an eyebrow. Father Reynal takes it and pulls it off of the table, away from her prying eyes and wandering hands. Smart of him. Suspicious too. Vex is on high alert and everything right now is a threat.

“I’m not a lady,” she mutters.

“I know,” Father Reynal nods. “But I’m being polite.”

Vex rolls her eyes. “Cut to the chase. What the fuck is going on here? What is that thing and why didn’t you tell me?”

They all settle back in their seats, all tense, all very unwilling to talk. Vex isn’t budging until she’s given answers though. She’ll camp here and harass them until they crack. She doesn’t give a fuck how long it takes.

“We didn’t tell you,” Keeper Yennen starts. “Because there was no reason for you to know. The fiend cannot walk out of the castle, the trail had been condemned by our work, and the secret tunnel was… well, secret.”

Vex sighs slightly. “Until Keyleth told me about it.”

“Our dear Keyleth is not skilled in the art of deception,” Father Reynal adds then. “We should have expected this would happen. But we couldn’t take you into account when all of this started. Your predecessor, Ranger Regae was not… exactly zealous. He was either oblivious to what was happening or didn’t care enough to stop it. All the contrary to you, my lady.”

“Not a lady,” Vex repeats. “Please stop calling me one.”

They nod as well. “Apologies,” they mutter. “Now. As for your other questions…”

Cassandra bristles. “His name is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III,” they rattle off without even blinking. “Depending on which succession law you follow, he’s either Lord of Whitestone, or just my brother, in which case I am Lady of Whitestone.”

Vex takes a second to take in all of what she’s just been told. The De Rolos are not all dead. At least two remain. She’s staring at one of them, and the other is the thing in the castle. And they’re all covering it up.

“What happened? Because that’s not a person in there anymore,” Vex points out. Cassandra flinches at that.

Well… The eyes flashing to blue and the humanoid voice could belong to a person. The part that had yelled her to run… that could be a person.

“We don’t know exactly,” Cassandra continues, despite her flinching and obvious uncomfort. “We know that he’s been possessed by a fiend. Which I’m guessing you sensed and came in contact with.”

“Do you know how he came in contact with the fiend? What kind of fiend it is?” Vex crosses her arms.

“He.. came back to Whitestone with the fiend already with him. I haven’t been able to get more details from him.”

Every time Cassandra or anyone else says something, it just adds more questions to Vex’s plate. Where was he before coming back? Why had he left in the first place?

“As for the kind,” Father Reynal interjects. “I haven’t gotten to see it up close since he became possessed by it the way he is now, but from Keyleth’s description, it seems like a demonic creature. Perhaps a shadow demon of some kind.”

Shadow demons are more difficult to take down than barbed devils, but they’re not… impossible. Between Keyleth, Pike, Grog and the others, they should have been able to take it down a long time ago… Though it isn’t just a fiend. It’s also Cassandra’s brother. That changes things, she guesses, for all of them. There’s a person trapped in there, the one that made it so Vex could get away.

That’s the thing with possession. There’s always someone else than the creature involved in it.

Vex sighs heavily, putting her hands over her face. “You haven’t told any sort of authority, I’m guessing?” She asks.

“They’ll just… kill him to take out the creature,” Pike points out. “None of us want that to happen. We want him safe. As safe as possible.”

“Or they’ll fuck up the barrier we put up and he’ll be free to roam and probably kill more,” Keeper Yennen adds. “That’s another one of our concerns, and one of the reasons we didn’t tell you. We’re aware rangers have some spellcasting abilities and we did not want to risk you messing with the barrier.”

Vex huffs. “Well, I can’t promise I didn’t do anything but I don’t think my encounter with it fucked up your spell.”

They all fall quiet then. As she looks around the table at these people, these people of faith, of knowledge, of ability, it suddenly dawns on her the mess she’s gotten into. There’s a nobleman possessed by a fiend, with a weapon from the nine hells that shoots holes into people. They’ve been dealing with it for who knows how long, and they’re not getting anywhere. They seem at a standstill.

It’s all terrible. She should run away now. Grab Vax, pack her bags, and never come back to Whitestone again.

She’s not going to succeed at her job here, not when the fiend in the castle is much stronger than she is, not when there are people who won’t let her deal with it quickly and efficiently because it would mean murdering someone. Not that she would murder someone to do her job, but… it’s just another thing to think about.

She should give up and leave.

But where can she go? She can’t go back to Syngorn. Syldor’s made it incredibly clear in the letter she read yesterday. It was only yesterday but it feels like weeks. The emotional distress and the encounter with the fiend, or Percival de Rolo… It all seems so far away.

So she has to stay, and she has to deal with this somewhat. Because there’s no way she can go back to her life when she knows about the thing in the castle. No way. She’s too… stubborn.

“I have many questions,” Vex starts after a moment. “And I want you to answer them to the best of your abilities. If you want me to help in this matter, you’re going to have to be straightforward with me. Honest. If I catch you in a lie, you’re fucked.”

She doesn’t really think she’ll tell any authority about this, but she is going to use every bit of power she has to get her way and get the answers she’s desperate to have.

“Fine,” Cassandra nods. “I think that works with us.”

Vex doesn’t reply that they don’t have a choice anyway. She’s not that big of a dick.

“My very first question,” she moves forward. “How did you know my last name?” She stares at Father Reynal, with his chestnut eyes.

He sighs heavily and takes out the folder that had been on the table when she came in. He slides it over the table towards her and she takes it, and opens it.

Everything. They have everything. They have her grades and report cards from the schools she attended in Syngorn, from the noble general educations to the specialized ones, to the ones from her training with the TWC. Things on Vax as well. And then the Shademurk. Reports on the fire, a copy of the report she wrote for the TWC about what happened. Pictures of her and Saundor at the official parties he dragged her to, both because she was the ranger attached to the Shademurk, but also because she was his trophy, and he wanted to show her off.

She remembers the specific day this photo was taken on. She remembers the pretty green silk dress with the completely open back, almost the exact color of his skin. He’d insisted she made her hair in a way that uncovered her ears. He’d made a braid of vines that wrapped around her neck in a necklace. He’d called her perfect. She’d been the only non-fey in attendance, and all eyes had been on her, and on him, because he’d brought her.

She’s smiling in the photo in front of her. It was taken when she was already tipsy on sweet and heady fey wines. That was why she was smiling so much. The evening hadn’t been pleasant. Some sort of anniversary of something where she’d obviously been there for people to stare at, for Saundor to have. He had not let her move out of his side all evening, arm wrapped around her waist, hard as stone, unmovable. Possessive. She’d already known better than to try and break his hold on her, it had been months after she’d realized he was much, much stronger than her. When he decided to hold her, there was no getting out.

She slams the folder shut when it gets to more details about the fire.

Her hands are shaking when she looks up at the priest in front of her.

“Why?” She asks. Her voice is weak. It’s shaking, it’s ugly.

“We had to know who you were, who had replaced Regae. If you’d be a threat for us and Percival,” Father Reynal explains. “I’m sorry.”

He’s not. It’s obvious he’s not. Vex gets it, but it doesn’t qualm her anger and betrayal. She grabs the file in her hands. “I’m keeping this.”

None of them deny her that. Good. She would have exploded if they did.

Her mind is swimming. The pictures of those nights in the Feywild, the reports on the fire and her escape, the fiend, the trapped noble, her father’s hatred of her, these people… all of it was too much. She needs a fucking break. But they won’t let her have one.

“I need to go for a moment,” she says. This time her voice is steadier, and she’s so incredibly glad.

“You have some decisions to make,” Keeper Yennen nods.

Vex stands up. She’s not as shaky as she expected she would be. “I’ll be telling my brother all of this. You’ve involved him.” She points at the file. “Non negotiable.”

Cassandra looks a little uncomfortable at that but says nothing. Good. She’s getting Vex to help in saving her brother, Vex is involving hers.

This is too much to deal with alone, anyway. She needs Vax by her side with this. Despite everything, she needs his presence, she needs him. They’re both unsteady and neither of them are the rocks the other needs, really. But they’ve got each other and that’s at least something. It would be horrible if they couldn’t have each other.

She walks out of the temple with barely a word. She can’t do the goodbyes and everything else right now. She can’t pretend her mind isn’t full of questions and fears and anger. She needs to take time with all of this.

It’s hard. A part of her feels for Cassandra, and even the rest of them. She can understand why they did what they did, why they hid it from her, from the world. But she’s still so deeply angry about all of it.

And the file just made it so fucking worse. It’s all there, all the things she wishes to forget, all the things she prayed there were no traces of. She hoped the fire of Shademurk destroyed all evidence of her presence there, of the months spent in Saundor’s thrall.

Just like the memories and the scars she bears, just like the bow under her bed, it’s not going to go away this quickly. She should have expected pictures to be taken of the parties, she should have expected the reports to exist somewhere in the system.

What kind of research power did they even have, to acquire such information from her schools in Syngorn and the TWC?

Fuck. She gets into her truck and punches the leather outside of the wheel, cursing out loud. She puts the file down on the passenger seat and exhales. She needs to calm down. Her hands are shaking and she needs to be calmer to drive home, or she’ll drive herself into a fucking tree.

She would have thought being researched would be the worst part. But the worst part is the memories of Saundor the research brings. She’s fought so hard to put this behind her, she’s spent months bothered by horrible nightmares, every time she fell asleep. She’s better now, but this is a lot to deal with.

She really thought she was going to be safe from him now that she was hundreds of miles from the nearest portal to the Feywild. But the memories will not leave her and the scars are still obviously on her skin.

She can’t be safe. Not when she has her memories intact and his bow under her bed. It hasn’t been long enough. Maybe she’ll be done with him in a few years, or a few decades. Hopefully it will fade away faster than what her father did.

Falling from Syldor to Saundor was to be expected, now that she thinks about it. She was desperate for approval from some sort of authority figure and Saundor was that. And he had her wrapped around his little finger within days of meeting him.

Gods, she loved him. At least somewhere in the middle. Not at first, no. It had been all for comfort and pleasure. And then… at the end, it had been fear and hopelessness. But she had loved him in the middle. She’d worshipped him.

The great powerful Lord Saundor the Forsaken.

Her forehead hits the leather covering the wheel and she sighs heavily. She’s so tired. Her fingers find the key and turn it, sending the engine roaring on. The radio turns on with it as contact is made. It’s still on that pop channel since they went for a groceries run whe Vax arrived.

It feels like it happened weeks ago. The onboard calendar says it’s the 28th of Cuersaar. Vax has been in Whitestone for three days.

#mine #fic #critical role #vox machina #perc'ahlia #vex'ahlia

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 10

<- Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 ->

Summary: It’s your wedding day. Things are... great.

Thank you @sexy-opium-ravioli for helping beta! This is an important chapter, so I hope it scans!

Everything feels numb. There is a veil draped between you and the world, even before someone—your mother, perhaps—drapes a veil of gossamer over your face. It’s fitting. You sit behind it and pretend you are not there as the world moves you.

Someone fusses with your hair. Someone dresses you in a gown. Someone takes your arm and you are inside a church. Someone puts a plate in front of you, a rich meal of savory meat that tickles your nostrils—the kind of meal you should expect with a wealthy husband (as wealthy as this small village can offer). But you don’t eat.

It’s funny. You had worried about starving if you ran away with your monster, but now you have food and can’t eat anything.

Where was he at this moment? Far away, you suppose. You broke his heart and betrayed him. You’re marrying a man you despise because you were too afraid to go with him. He always did try to push you away whenever his feelings were too raw—to claim you were better off without him—so you know exactly what he did. He left without you, thinking it was what you wanted.

Or maybe he is close—he loves you too fiercely to just leave, doesn’t he? He might be watching the proceedings from some secret hiding place, weeping and raging, unable to do anything to stop it. It’s not as though he could claim you as his rightful wife. He can never show his face to the world without putting himself in danger; he can’t protect you from the realities of life. He can’t undo your choices.

Then again, he had also told you he was afraid of the evil he was capable of in the absence of love. You spurned him, and threw him back into a loveless world, where all he will ever know is rejection and isolation. Seeing you, who had promised yourself to him, start a family with another could be enough to push him over the edge. You had seen flashes of his anger before, his fits of passion. If Ferdinand had gone though such lengths to reclaim you after you left him, and he is a mere mortal, what is the daemon capable of?

He would never hurt you, you’re sure of that. Or you were sure. You never betrayed him before. What if he hates you, and that hate turns into vengeance? If he burns Ferdinand’s house down with you inside, that might be the most satisfactory ending left to you now. It would be favorable to living as Ferdinand’s wife for the next twenty years, unless you could manage to die in childbirth sooner.

Your mind drifts to that deep and rapid river, flooded with icy spring snow-melt, and you wonder how much trouble everyone would have been spared if the creature had never pulled you from its deathly current. At the bottom of that black stream, you imagine the sheer layers of your gown floating gently above your head, surrounded by bubbles, and the veil pulling off your crown and washing away into the turbid dark. A kind of peace settles over you. You think of nothing else for a long time.

**********

The organ plays a funeral march as your father drags you down the aisle, and you find yourself, through no will of your own, standing before an altar with vows being read to you and practically no memory of how you came to be there.

You feel sick.

Perhaps if you throw up on your husband’s shoes it will be some small rebellious victory. You feel your face want to smirk at that, instinctively. It’s what your cheeks would normally do. Yet your facial muscles remain slack and lifeless.

A sea of uncaring faces watch with curiosity from the long wooden pews, with a faded red carpet dividing them in two. Neighbors turn to whisper in each other’s ears with a frown or a smirk half-hidden behind a hand. They all came to watch. None of them had spoken to you in years, but they came for the show.

As the priest makes his pronouncements, your mind swirls with a torrent of self-reproaches. Why didn’t you fight while there was still a chance? You could have screamed and struggled until your parents had no choice but to let you go. Until Ferdinand realized you weren’t worth the trouble. You could have tied your sheets together and sneaked out the window before dawn—the storm had stopped by then.

It’s too late, you gutless fool. You can’t make a scene in front of all these people.

“If anyone knows a reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.”

Someone save me, you silently pray, but the large wooden cross looming above the altar seems to be on their side. Your eyes dart across the indifferent faces of the guests, desperately hoping for a savior, but they were only spectators. They know you’re being forced into this, and they’re complicit. Not that you had fought it either.

Not that you had fought it. The realization breaks upon you like an avalanche in spring. How could you expect someone else to save you when you would do nothing to save yourself from this fate? When you turned down your own best chance of escape because you were afraid? Now it was too late. There was no way out anymore.

Your stomach turns, and a sob breaks through the numbness that had swallowed you. Even through the veil, there was no hiding your tears, or your wail of abject sorrow.

The crowd gasps in unison, but not at you. At that same moment, the heavy double doors of the chapel burst open, banging against the walls in an explosion of splinters and a shattering roar: “I object!”

Standing beside you with a clear view down the center of the aisle, your mother makes a sign of the cross over her chest and points into the doorway, now filled by a massive silhouette. “The demon!”

A wave of reaction spreads through the crowd like the churning of a river around a large rock as the witnesses scream and push each other trying to get away from the enraged monster, flooding toward the back of the church and pressing themselves against the far walls.

He stands glowering in the doorway, eight feet tall and filling the entire entrance that he has to stoop to get inside. His arms spread wide from throwing open the doors make him appear even larger—inescapable. Silhouetted in the light streaming behind him from outside, his face is a vicious mask of cruelty and stark shadows.

Your heart stops beating, or races so quickly that you can’t distinguish one beat from the next, and you feel the blood running from your face. He—he came. He’s here. How can he be here? He can’t be here! Not like this. There was a chance you could have introduced him little by little to people you trusted, like Bess, if she hadn’t walked in with such poor timing. She might have understood. But this? He is poisoning himself to them forever. Why? Has he come to rescue you… or to take revenge?

“It is I—the Serpent,” he snarls in a voice that booms and resonates through the arched ceiling. You haven’t heard this voice since the day you encountered him in the forest and he tried to scare you away. “He who reigns among of the Legions of Pandemonium, sprung from the Deep, through the gates of Hell lays claim upon this woman. All the Seraphim of heaven shall not keep me from my prize!” He raises himself to his full height, scattering guests left and right with his sheer enormity and the terror of his presence. Your mouth goes dry as you suddenly become aware of how much he hunches over when he’s with you to make himself less intimidating. You’ve never seen him like his—his teeth bared and his long black hair whipping around him. The gentle creature who milked your cows and waited patiently for you in the dusty hayloft was gone. A cold shiver runs down your spine.

The demon snaps his huge white jaws at the crowd like a feral beast, lashing out at one side of the aisle and the other as he stalks up the faded strip of carpet. Each crashing footfall shakes the whole floor under your feet and sends dust streaming down from the rafters. With each threatening lunge, fresh screams of panic erupt from the congregants still frozen in their seats, and those fleeing toward the rear of the church now creep along the walls toward the front as he moves away from the broken doors. A trickle of congregants risk sneaking out the doors behind him, and when the first brave group manages to run to freedom without the monster whipping about and killing them, more flood out the doors in a turbulent stream of pushing and screaming.

What is he doing? You spent so much time and care hiding him, and now he’s in the middle of the village, exposed in full view, deliberately calling attention to himself. It’s as if everything you strived for together doesn’t even matter. Is he trying to get himself killed? Does he not even care anymore?

“Your God cannot help you now,” he thunders as he approaches the small wedding party at the altar. “I am the Prince of Darkness, the Morning Star, and a curse be upon any soul who stands in my way!” Your mother takes a quick step backward, then drops to the ground with a thud. Your father turns and runs, abandoning her.

No one is trying to stop him. They’re too terrified. You rip off your gossamer veil and look around the church—those who are not mobbing the exits are fainted or quivering in shock.

Everything you strived for doesn’t matter. All that hiding and pretending didn’t work—if you stay on that road, it leads to you marrying Ferdinand and living the rest of your life in a cold fog waiting to die. It’s time to try something different.

This.

All cards on the table. Winner takes all.

He towers over the trembling priest, and pronounces with a warning glare, “I claim this woman for my wife! No mortal shall touch her; no contract under God may bind her—her soul belongs to me!”

His eyes flit down to you and he stutters in his fierce tirade. Your wedding dress is new—a modestly expensive modern gown purchased by the groom to show off his assets. A taffeta robe the color of summer is pulled back to reveal a bright white petticoat underneath, and a neckline plunging almost scandalously low shows off more of your cleavage than he is used to seeing. His pale cheeks redden at your beauty, and for a moment he looks so much like an infatuated school boy it nearly gives away his act. To you it does, at least. At that moment, you’re certain what his intentions are, and the relief at those loving eyes you thought you would never see again makes your vision swim with tears.

He drops to one knee, sweeping his cloak out behind him, and holds a hand out to you. “Take my hand, and be my bride,” he commands in a booming voice, then adds, softly, earnestly, locking his eyes with yours, “If you will have me.”

You smile and cover your mouth, a warm feeling fluttering through your stomach.

You take his hand.

“I knew it,” growls a voice behind you. “I knew I did not imagine you, fiend! And you,” he shoves aside the preacher, still a trembling mass of robes, so he can grab the hand raised to your mouth roughly by the wrist and pull you back toward him. “I knew you were a whore! I’ll teach you to know your place!”

“Let me go!” you scream and try to twist away toward the creature, but Ferdinand holds on with bruising force. You cry out in pain.

The creature roars in outrage and snatches Ferdinand’s wrist just below where it grips yours. There is a sound of snapping bone as his hand goes limp and releases you, and the giant being of immense strength pulls the smaller man’s arm upward until he hangs off the ground like a limp rag doll. You pivot and join the creature at his side, interlacing your fingers with his.

“Her place is where she chooses. No one shall force her hand so long as I will live,” the creature snarls in the boy’s face, gnashing his dripping teeth. “You should have begged to be worthy for her to choose you.”

A slow, unhinged laugh shakes Ferdinand’s dangling form. “Choice?” he cackles, “She would choose to leave me? For this thing?! Then it is fortunate you have no choice, you filthy sow!” He lashes out with his feet, but the creature whips him away, a symphony of popping joints and screams following, until he hangs limp and defeated again.

“Yes, I do,” you growl. “I always have; you just didn’t want me to see it. But I see it now, and you can never have me.”

“Would you like me to rend him limb from limb?”

“No,” you reply coldly. “He isn’t worth the mess.”

“Disgusting wench!” Ferdinand coughs, wriggling impotently like a marionette on the end of a string. He’s at least learned not to kick. “Your defile yourself in the eyes of God!”

“If God wants me to be with the likes of you, then consider me happily defiled,” you sneer. You’re feeling downright brazen now at seeing your oppressors so weak and helpless—how pathetic they really are. You have every right to be with the one you love, with the one who makes you happy. “There is nothing wrong or immoral about what we have.”

Ferdinand’s eyes spark with rage. “So you admit it, then. All along you’ve made a cuckold of me. You were mine! Corrupting devil,” he spits, “She was the perfect woman when I chose her for my own—meek and biddable—there was no competition for her hand due to her social defects, but I could have tamed those peculiarities in short order. Instead you made her stubborn and willful. I will not forgive you for making her your whore, beast!” His free hand reaches into the lining of his waistcoat, and he pulls out a dueling pistol. “This time my aim will be straight for your heart—die, vile adversary!”

You see him raise the gun to the creature’s chest, and you don’t think. You slam your full body weight against his arm, pushing it out to the side as he pulls the trigger. A shower of sparks erupts from the muzzle with a loud bang, and a lead round embeds itself in the chapel wall. Burning black powder makes you cough. The creature grabs the gun from Ferdinand’s hand and crushes the barrel with a single squeeze, then tosses it and Ferdinand away like so much garbage.

Ferdinand crashes into the altar, candles toppling down over him in a heap.

“Bitch! You bitch!” Ferdinand shouts disparaging swears from his position on the floor. It’s more than the impotent rage of defeat. He pulls the second dueling pistol of the set from the other side of his waistcoat—he was paranoid enough to be wed with two loaded weapons strapped to him—more shrewd than paranoid, considering the outcome. He takes aim at you this time.

He had struck the creature while both were sprinting through the undergrowth of the forest—he was a good shot. At only a few meters distance, he is unlikely to miss. The blood freezes in your veins and time seems to stand still as you watch his finger slowly depress the trigger, millimeter by millimeter. This is what you had been terrified of for the past months, why you had so feared discovery. You squeeze the creature’s fingers, still locked in yours, and you smile. You smile like it’s the last time you will ever get the chance to, because you’re afraid to die.

The flint snaps down onto the flashpan and tiny golden sparks spray out from the top of the pistol. The spark reaches the barrel, but carelessly loaded and ill-maintained, the ball does not fire, but the barrel explodes in his hand, sending shrapnel whizzing past your head and setting the cloth of the altar ablaze. He shrieks in agony, dropping the wreckage of the gun from his mangled and bleeding hand.

The creature pulls you to him in a protective embrace as time starts moving again.

“Goodbye, Ferdinand,” you say through your teeth. “If you ever come near me again, I’ll kill you.” Eyes wide with terror and pain, Ferdinand scrambles away from the spreading flames.

You leap into the creature’s arms, a grin spreading from ear to ear as he holds you in a bridal carry. He smiles back triumphantly, chest heaving from adrenaline. You don’t know how this happened, how everything turned upside down so suddenly, but you’re ready now. You already felt the cold jaws of a living death closing around you, and as the fire begins to spread out from the altar, you feel alive again—truly alive, for perhaps the first time in your life.

The growing fire spurs a rapid call to activity—swooning parishioners startle awake at the smell of smoke, and shake their stunned companions out of their trances. The priest, to his credit, kneels beside your mother and lifts her to her feet. She gives one last bleary-eyed look of confusion at you with your bright wedding gown streaming down from the dark-haired monster’s arms before the priest guides her out a side door.

You clasp your arms around the back of the creature’s neck. His smile has faded to a faraway sort of sadness. “I never meant to hurt you, I just… panicked,” you explain quietly. “I was so afraid of dying with you, but I realized just now, there are worse things. When I resigned to marrying him, I kept thinking of the merciful ways my life might be cut short so I wouldn’t have to grow old in his house. I was afraid of living. You make me afraid to die.” He carefully wipes a tear from the corner of your eye with a calloused thumb. “Can you forgive me for being such a coward?”

“Of course I do. I only wanted to give you a choice. You could have renounced me, and then all would know you were innocent. That none of it was your fault. So disrupted, the ceremony would at least be postponed, and if you cast out the demon, perhaps they would not force you into marriage.”

“That… that was really your plan?” You hadn’t considered for a moment the possibility of turning against him.

“I was hoping you would choose me,” he shrugs sheepishly. “What is your choice, my angel? Do you wish to leave with me?” His question is uncertain and soft and familiar now that you’re alone. You lift a hand to his cheek, and he turns his face to nuzzle into your palm.

“I do!”

Your sweet daemon leans his head down and kisses you before the burning altar. As the church begins to fill with the dry smoke of ancient timber, the creature hefts you in his arms, hugging you closer, and carries you down the aisle.

#frankenstein #Frankenstein's Monster #the creature x reader #monster x reader #My writing #JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT AAAAAAAHHHHH #I almost waited to post them together #but I'm too anxious so there's gonna be an epilogue

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walviemort · 4 years

Text

hidden blessing (6/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

a/n: I didn’t realize it had been so long since I updated—apologies! Hopefully I haven’t lost you, and hopefully the next one will go up sooner. Dedicated as always to the amazing @sherlockianwhovian <3

“If you must know,” he started, then leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

Emma stared at him for a moment, then scoffed. “Seriously? This is no time for jokes.”

A spark of anger quickly ignited within Killian; he wasn’t sure if that was his normal temper, or the hormones playing a part. “Why the bloody hell would I make something like that up?”

“I don’t know; some weird attempt to lighten the mood.”

“Am I lying?” he snapped back.

She opened her mouth a few times, trying to come up with an equal retort, but he saw the realization of his truth wash over her. She finally came up with, “That’s impossible.”

“Afraid not.”

She blinked in disbelief and looked him up and down, her gaze eventually settling on his midsection. His bump was still mostly hidden by the bulk of his vest, but if one knew to look, they could see the way his stomach curved just above his belt. “Wait, for real?”

If it weren’t for the taste of bile on his tongue, he probably would have found humor in her reaction. As it was, he simply longed for a drag from the waterskin Snow was carrying and his temper was wearing thin. Impulsively, he reached out for her hand and placed the back of it against his stomach, against the spot where its inhabitant was currently moving about—not strongly discernible kicks, not from the outside, but definitely noticeable, especially (hopefully) to someone who had been through this before.

Emma’s eyes grew wide in shocked recognition and she snatched her hand back. “Holy shit; you’re pregnant.”

“Aye; and if you don’t mind, I’d like to wash my mouth out with something other than rum.” And without another word, stepped around Emma to join the rest of the group.

Emma only paused a moment before rushing to catch back up to him. “But...how?” she stammered.

“Well, when a man and woman love each other—”

“I know that,” she cut off. “But like...is that a normal thing in the Enchanted Forest?” She cast a worrying look in the direction of her father.

And as quick as the anger had come, it was replaced with sympathy just as fast; he couldn’t fault Emma’s confusion, when it evidently was an impossibility in her realm. “Not necessarily; it’s rare—only runs in certain families—but it does happen. Obviously.”

He hoped that might be the end of it, not quite wanting that revelation to drop on any unsuspecting ears just yet, but Emma had more questions. And honestly, it felt nice to talk to someone about it, however briefly, and equally nice to have someone take an interest.

“How far along are you?” she continued.

“About sixteen weeks, the doctor says.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Just Regina.”

“Is she the...mother, or whatever?”

“Heavens no.” Though he could see why she’d think that.

She grew silent for a bit. “You should have told me,” she finally scolded.

“I know,” he agreed.

“I can’t afford to be worried about you, too.”

That honestly took him aback; it had been centuries since anyone had any concern for him. “I’m flattered, love, but you don’t have to; I can take care of myself,” he assured her. Her focus needed to be on Henry—not his sorry arse.

She was about to say something, but David’s voice interrupted. “Up here! We made it!”

They jogged ahead to join the rest of the group at the ridge, which gave an unparalleled view of the island, specifically the Dark Jungle—or at least, it had; it appeared to have grown over quite a bit in Killian’s absence. They heeded his warning on going through it, at least, and agreed to his recommendation to make camp with only minor protest.

He thought sleep would claim him quickly—while he wasn’t as fatigued as he had been weeks ago, he still found himself needing more than in the past; given the excitement of the last day, he knew he needed it. But the island wasn’t quite ready to let him.

The crying—how had he forgotten it?

The sound of the Lost One’s wails echoed in his skull, and if he wasn’t careful, his own would likely join them; it certainly had in the past. Regardless of the number of decades that had passed since his father deserted him and his brother, the cries never failed to bring up the feelings of hurt and abandonment that lay buried within.

But now it wasn’t just for him—gods, what if that happened to his child? For not the first time (and likely not the last), he worried that one or more of his enemies, or even just his penchant for ending up in life-threatening situations, would leave his child parentless.

He rolled from his back to his side, away from the others, and curled in on himself, hoping the fetal position—and feeling of fetal movements under his palm—might calm his thoughts and mind, but it was to no avail. He squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, but all that did was force out the tears that had been brimming at them. It had been many years since he’d silently cried, but as a lad, it had been a lifesaving skill; thank goodness he still remembered how.

Gods, how was no one else reacting to this? Even with the echoing sobs in the foliage, he could still hear the prince’s snores, and the general silence told him everyone else was equally still.

He let his crying jag run its course; he’d need the waterskin again soon, but hopefully he would at least cry himself to sleep. Alas, he did not, and the rhythmic sounds of the others in the camp did nothing to lull him, either.

Sighing, he returned to his back, hoping the stars might give some comfort—but they were invisible through the foliage. He quietly sighed again and let his head fall to the other side, glancing at the rest of the camp. The first thing he saw was a blanket lying in a heap and Emma’s jacket—but no Emma.

He sat bolt upright. He had no doubts she heard the voices, too. He’d known her for a lost girl from the moment he’d locked eyes with her. But why the bloody hell had she gone off alone?

His jacket was on and he was ready to search for her when she returned on her own, a blank sheet of parchment in hand that he could immediately tell was anything but harmless.

It was Pan; of course it was. A shiver went down his spine at the thought of the demon child being close and he not being aware of it.

After rousing the others, she explained: the map would lead them to Henry, but first, she had to stop denying who she really was. Regina scoffed at the idea and questioned its validity, but he set her straight: Pan loved his games, and this is just another they had to play.

(Surprisingly, he had the Charmings on his side. “I’m winning you over; I can feel it,” he teased David; he took the responding roll of eyes as progress.)

Of course, Emma coming to terms with her identity was much easier said than done. It took a certain kind of confidence—and many years—for most people to fully own their selves; for Killian, it had taken a handful of decades to achieve that kind of self-awareness. That was time they didn’t have for Emma.

In her typical impatience, Regina decided a quicker plan: use a tracking spell on the parchment itself to lead to Pan. Again, he found himself in agreement with the Charmings, that using magic was a risk. But Her Majesty wouldn’t hear it, and off they went into the jungle…

...Right into an ambush. He should have known that would happen; alas, the only warning he could give was of the danger hidden in the Lost Boys’ poisoned arrow tips. He said a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that he and his child would manage to avoid that fate; and, to his surprise, a warm wash of magic ran over him—shielding him, it felt like. He caught Regina’s eye from across their circle and she nodded at him. Well, at least she’d done that.

They somehow made it through the altercation relatively unscathed, though David seemed to have had a too-close encounter with an arrow, and Killian really did not want to deal with Felix ever again. Pan repeated his smug instructions to Emma, and then their foes retreated...leaving them no closer to finding Henry.

He took small comfort in the gentle movements he felt within while he subtly rested his hand on his belt on their trek back to camp. They may not have come out ahead, but at least they weren’t behind (he hoped).

He and Regina hung back at the campsite while Emma and her parents continued at the map. His adrenaline from the fight was starting to fade and his interrupted sleep was calling for him—but at the same time, he was too spooked to sleep. Regina’s pacing seemed to suggest the same thing.

“Thank you for the protection,” he said quietly; his voice seemed to startle her from her thoughts, but she recovered quickly.

“No problem. I wasn’t about to risk anything happening to...you know.”

“I appreciate it. But I’d also rather we not find ourselves in that sort of situation again.”

She nodded. “I know; I was hasty. I just...I hate not knowing where he is.”

He stepped closer. “I know I’m not as familiar with your boy, but we’ve all got our motivations to get him back. You need to trust the rest of us.”

She scoffed. “Afraid I’ve never been much of a team player.”

“Well you best figure out how, because not only does your son’s life depend on it, but all of ours—including my child’s, as well.” He turned and stalked away, letting Regina brood while he did much the same.

The sooner they worked together, the sooner they saved the lad and got out of this bloody realm, and his child would be safe again.

It seemed like the Charmings were having a moment, so he stepped aside briefly to deal with another stirring of nausea, then rinsed his mouth out with rum after. He was rather annoyed that he’d likely be dealing with that for the duration of their stay here; all the more reason to find any way to hasten it.

He’d barely returned to the clearing and pocketed his flask when Emma was running towards him. “The map is working! We know where Henry is,” she practically shouted, shoving it in his face.

Sure enough, a map of the island had appeared on the parchment—a deceptively simple one.

Emma stood at his side as he studied it, and Regina was quick to jump on the other. “Where?”

It took him aback, for a moment, that they were both willing to listen to him. “Uh...We're here at the southern tip of the isle, in the middle of the Dark Jungle,” he explained, gesturing with his hook, “and Pan's camp lies due north.” A bright red X marked the spot; but it didn’t detail the dangers that lay between here and there.

“That's where he's keeping Henry,” Emma stated matter-of-factly.

Regina clearly hadn’t taken his previous lecture to heart. “What are we waiting for?”

“Well, the terrain’s not easy,” he warned. “There will undoubtedly be some nasty impediments along the way.” He shot her an annoyed look.

“We should prepare,” David stepped in. “We only made it out of our last encounter because Pan let us. We need a new plan.”

“Agreed. It's time we stop playing his game and he starts playing ours,” Emma concurred.

Regina bristled. “And if I disagree?”

Emma wasn’t having it. “Go ahead, but I think you know our best chance is together.” Again, Killian sent a knowing look in Regina’s direction.

She swallowed bitterly. “You better be right.”

Everyone dispersed to either sulk or plan, but Emma lingered in his space. He hadn’t missed her reddened eyes, or the general sense of emotional exhaustion.

“Excellent show of patience, luv,” he encouraged her. “And that's what defeats a nasty little boy.”

“I hope so,” she confessed. He wished he knew of a better way to comfort her, but he was still on the outside looking in when it came to her walls, and had little more than a crack to peer through. That said, he knew where he usually turned in moments like that, and pulled his flask back out. She rolled her eyes as he did. “Is rum your solution to everything? You shouldn’t even be drinking that.”

“It certainly doesn't hurt. And it’s not for me; it’s for you.” She eyed it briefly in his extended hand, then took it from him and drank a very long swig. It seemed to help; she relaxed a bit—as much as she could, given the situation. Which was good, because his curiosity got the best of him and pregnancy brain meant he had little to no filter. “So just how did you unlock the map?” he asked.

“I did what Pan asked,” she shrugged.

“And just who are you, Swan?”

She smirked and handed the flask back. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would,” he confessed solemnly. She’d clearly been expecting flirtation and not blunt honesty, if the way she was taken aback was any indication.

But it was quickly followed by a small smile. “Ask me that again when we get home and I might have an answer for you.”

She then wandered back to her parents, leaving him in an almost stunned silence. The fact that she hadn’t shot him down was not something he had prepared for—but he was far from complaining.

Logically, he knew there were far more important matters at hand than flirting with his crush. But who said he couldn’t do both? (Especially if she was going to be receptive to the idea?)

Intense fluttering started behind his navel again; he rested his palm against it while he was still out of everyone’s sight. “All the more reason for us to fight to get home, eh, little one?” he murmured.

They still had a fight ahead—gods only knew what they’d face—but for the first time, he was feeling optimistic.

(And hopefully, it wasn’t just the hormones talking.

(Emma, meanwhile, was starting to plan and prep with her parents, but was running over that conversation in her mind. He’d been genuine with her—as much as when he confessed his condition to her earlier. Despite his past proclamations, he really knew her about as well as she knew him: not as much as she’d like. That realization was throwing her for a loop; she was in the middle of a cursed jungle trying to rescue her son—why in the hell was she flirting with a pirate? A pregnant one at that?

And why didn’t she regret it one bit?)

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

thanks for reading! tagging @cocohook38 @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian jones ff #mpreg #hidden blessing #My ff

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sweetmemories2606 · 4 years

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StingYu Angst (Birthday Fic)

In honour of the lovely @ship-ambrosia's birthday today, I have written this one-shot featuring Sting and Yukino's relationship.

Here are the details:

Title: Focus

Summary: Watching Dimaria nearly kill Yukino, Sting is reminded of the last time when she had been in danger and he had failed to protect her.

Timeline: Tartaros Arc (flashback), Alvarez Arc.

Warning: This story is based on chapters 16-17 of my Royal AU, therefore it contains spoilers.

Word Count: 2k

Link: Focus

Hope you enjoy!

______________________

October 18th, X792

Sting was rushing through the castle with Macbeth and Erik, who had saved him after he was trapped in the dungeons by Zeref. They were supposed to be making a grand escape, but upon feeling Yukino's presence and sensing that she was in danger, Sting knew he had to go to her.

He stopped suddenly, surprising the other two, and removed the concealing spell which Macbeth had placed on him.

"What the hell, man?" Erik whisper-yelled.

"You weren't supposed to undo the spell." Macbeth muttered, annoyed.

"Yukino's that way." Sting pointed before giving them a firm look. "I need to see her."

"You can see her when we get to the ship." Erik told him.

"I am not..." He was interrupted by a yell that made his blood run cold.

"Yukino!" It was Juvia's voice and the moment Sting heard it, he knew that he had to get to that room. Now.

______________________

They rushed through the corridor until reaching a wooden door. Sting could hear voices coming from inside, but didn't pay much attention.

His heart racing in his chest, he broke down the door effortlessly, only for his heart to drop into his stomach at the heart-wrenching sight before him.

Yukino lay helplessly on the floor, skin pale and her sky blue dress was quickly being tainted with blood coming from a wound on her stomach. So much blood. "Yukino!" He screamed her name, desperate.

"Sting..." She called him weakly, but her relief was clear.

"Shit!" Erik and Macbeth yelled, bringing Sting's attention to the other occupants of the room. He spotted Dimaria, who stood with her back to them, holding onto a bloody sword.

"What now?" She turned around to face them, looking bored.

"Of course it had to be you!" Sting yelled, filled with anger. Then his eyes widened once he finally noticed Juvia, who was crawling towards Yukino.

Realising that the water mage's wedding dress was also being stained with blood, he became worried for his friend too. I hope she'll be alright…

He watched as Juvia took Yukino's hand and squeezed it gently. "Yukino…I'm so sorry."

The celestial mage coughed, clearly struggling to breathe. "Juvia..."

Overwhelmed by fear and sorrow, Sting found himself frozen in his spot, watching everything unfold, and suddenly the room started to spin.

He tried taking in deep breaths to calm himself, but it was no use. Seeing Yukino injured like that brought up a distressing memory of another time when he had failed to protect her.

______________________

One year before

"Seriously? That didn't do anything?" Sting said, frustrated.

Him, Rogue and Yukino had found themselves going against the most powerful member of Tartaros: Mard Geer, the underworld king. The trio had been unlucky enough to encounter him after they were freed from the Allegria Curse and a difficult, seemingly endless fight ensued.

"This is getting exhausting." Yukino breathlessly noted. After having summoned 2 celestial spirits simultaneously, she had fallen to her knees, drained. To make matters worse, neither Pisces nor Libra's attack seemed to have any effect on the demon.

"Maybe we should call for help." Rogue suggested while trying to regain his breathing.

After sending another ineffective attack, Sting frowned. "I'm sure everyone's busy fighting against the other demons."

"Even if you had help, it would still not be enough to defeat me." Mard Geer affirmed, smiling smugly. He stood in the same spot a few meters away from them from which he had not moved since the beginning of the fight.

In his arm he held a book which they assumed belonged to one of the nine demon gates. Yukino had tried to retrieve it while Sting and Rogue fought him, but none were successful.

"Won't this guy ever shut up?" Sting complained, rolling his eyes.

"We just need to work together." Rogue said.

After sending another attack, Sting turned to his best friend in frustration. "We've been doing that for the past hour. It's not working!"

Rogue gave him a stern look. "No, you've been distracted, Sting. That's why we're failing to strike him."

"Are you kidding me?" Mard Geer watched them argue in clear amusement, not bothering to attack, but Yukino decided to intervene. "Guys, this isn't the time."

Glancing at her, Sting became concerned at how tired and pale she seemed. "Are you okay?"

She heaved. "I'm okay, but I don't have much magic power left."

He decided to approach her and extended a hand. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you."

Yukino smiled and accepted his help. "Thank you."

They turned to Rogue, who watched them in frustration. "Why won't you two admit it?"

The celestial mage seemed confused. "Admit what?"

He gave her an obvious look. "That you love each other. I'm so tired of watching you ignore your feelings as if it will do any good."

"What the hell, man? Did you have to do this now?" Sting yelled in annoyance.

Yukino blushed as she stepped away from him. "This isn't… the best time."

"There is no right time." Rogue sighed. "If you wait any longer, you might never get the chance to tell the truth."

Sting knew he was referring to the possibility that they might not all make it out alive. A very real possibility considering they had been fighting Mard Geer for so long yet hadn't even managed to scratch him.

Though Sting still refused to believe that they could die, he realised this might be his last opportunity to tell Yukino how he felt.

Glancing at the celestial mage who looked at him with equal determination, he began. "Yukino, I..."

Suddenly there were vines everywhere, trapping him. He struggled against their hold, frustrated at the interruption. "What the hell?"

His gaze found Mard Geer, who smiled in satisfaction. "As amusing as watching you has been, I don't have all night."

"These vines are blocking my magic. I can't attack." Rogue noted in exasperation.

"Don't worry, I'll help you." Looking to his right, Sting was surprised to note that Yukino hadn't been caught.

"No, you won't." Mard Geer smirked in her direction.

"Damn it!" Sting kept struggling, to no avail.

"Humans always tend to fall prey to their emotions, while completely unaware of this weakness." Mard Geer finally moved from his spot and began approaching the trio.

"No, our emotions are what makes us stronger." Rogue said. "It might've taken awhile, but we understand that now."

""Is that so?" The demon raised a brow. "I suppose we'll see about that in a moment."

Sting's blood ran cold once Mard Geer briefly glanced at Yukino, who was trying to summon her spirits. "Let's see how strong you'll be after I kill your beloved."

"Don't you dare!" The dragon slayer yelled in anger, trying with all his strength to free himself. It was pointless.

A giant flower appeared out of nowhere and dived in her direction. Yukino tried to move in order to dodge it, but Mard Geer trapped her in place with more vines.

Sting and Rogue were powerless to save her, forced to watch as the flower moved towards her. Nothing could be heard aside from the latter's desperate scream of her name. "Yukino!"

______________________

They had been miraculously saved back then by the arrival of Gray Fullbuster, who froze the vines with ease then broke them. His intervention was the only reason why Yukino hadn't died that day.

Focusing back on the present situation, Sting prayed that someone would intervene again and save Yukino's life.

Thankfully, Juvia was one step ahead of him. "Water-make: blood." She whispered the spell which he recalled worked as a blood transfusion.

She's risking her life to save Yukino. Sting realised and knew that he must do the same. Turning to Dimaria in anger, he threatened. "You are going to pay for hurting them!"

She stared at him with disinterest, not impressed once he activated dragon force or when Erik and Macbeth turned into their most powerful forms.

"I don't have time for this." Dimaria rolled her eyes in annoyance and Sting barely felt once she used her magic to freeze time.

______________________

The next thing he knew, she was on the ground, unconscious, and Jellal Fernandes stood by the window. Though grateful that Jellal had saved them, the dragon slayer's attention solely was Yukino thus he rushed to her side.

Briefly apologising after nearly knocking Jellal down, he didn't stop until he had arrived in front of Yukino and Juvia. Kneeling down, he gently took his girlfriend into his arms. "Yukino, talk to me."

Realising how cold she was, he panicked. "No, this isn't happening." Feeling his blood run cold at the thought that he might've lost her, he leaned against her chest, praying there would be a heartbeat.

It was faint, but unmistakable. She is still alive. "That's it, babe. That's it." Sting lifted his head before pressing a kiss against her forehead, closing his eyes. "Thank you."

"Is she..." Hearing Juvia's voice, he turned to her.

"She's still alive." Bringing Yukino deeper into his arms, Sting glanced at her wound. "But there's so much blood."

"I'm so sorry." The water mage told him, eyes filled with tears.

Sting assumed she was blaming herself for what happened, so he was quick to reassure. "It's not your fault."

Juvia nodded, giving a thankful look, before turning back to Jellal. "Jellal...She needs a healer."

"You both do." The latter concernedly noted.

"I'm fine." She attempted to reassure, but was disproved by a groan.

Sting noticed that she looked much paler than before and there was a wound on her stomach which was bleeding. Not good. She needs help too.

"We need to go. Now." Jellal firmly said before turning to Macbeth. "Do you have enough magic to use your invisibility spell on all of us?"

It took him a while to answer. "I do."

"Good." Jellal nodded before approaching Juvia and kneeling by her side. "If you allow me, your highness, I will carry you until we reach safety."

It took her a while to answer and Sting assumed she must have mixed feelings about abandoning this wedding. He was thankful, though, that she seemed to realise that leaving was the best option. "Okay"

Jellal carefully took her in his arms then glanced at Sting. The latter nodded before standing, holding Yukino protectively against his chest.

He was ready to do whatever it took to get her back to the ship safely, no matter the challenges they might have to face. He would fight even Zeref if that's what it took to ensure they managed to live the life they had been planning.

Throughout their escape, Sting tried keeping his thoughts positive and fixated on their plans for the future. Recalling how his proposal had been interrupted, he reminded himself to do it again.

Upon wondering about her possible response, he couldn't help but to smile. Then once he thought about their friends' reactions, happiness increased. Rogue and Minerva would be ecstatic, having encouraged him to propose months ago.

Sting convinced himself this was what awaited them; that Yukino would be alright and they would get to start their lives together back at Sabertooth, surrounded by their friends.

This hope gave him strength even as he began to feel weakened; tired after being trapped for days then having used too much magic. He was immensely relieved once they arrived at the ship and quickly sat down with Yukino still in his arms.

Ignoring as the others settled, Sting glanced at his girlfriend. Her face remained concernedly pale, her body was colder than normal and there was still so much blood. However, what mattered most is that she was alive and he would ensure she stayed this way. I won't fail you again, Yukino, I promise.

#fanfic #birthday fic #stingyu #fairy tail #sting x yukino #tartaros arc #alvarez arc #royal au #between lies #sting eucliffe #yukino aguria #juvia lockser #dimaria #jellal fernandes #macbeth #erik #oracion seis #crime sorciere #focus

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

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L&L - Chapter 10. The unexpected date [Alec Lightwood x Reader]

Title: Love and Leather - Chapter 10. The unexpected date ➔ Chapter 11. Here! Pairing: Alec Lightwood x Female!Reader Published: 23 June, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Love and Leather Masterlist | Masterlists

It was 7:10pm and you were already late. You were supposed to meet your date at 7pm sharp, but you took too long to get ready. And you didn't understand why. You were wearing a simple black choker bodycon dress, your usual black ankle boots and white leather jackets. Your make up was consisting of mascara and black eyeshadow. You just couldn't understand what made you late, but it got you annoyed.

You arrived to the meeting point, which was a simple bus stop in the heart of Brooklyn. You didn't see anyone and even if you tried to look for the person, you had no idea how he looked like. While you were waiting you were reading the timetable on the side of the bus stop. When you finished, you started reading the advertisements taped to the glasses. You looked at your phone and you realised your date has been late for over 30 minutes. "Maybe something urgent came up." You thought so you decided to wait a bit longer. You started playing Sudoku on your phone at first, but when you got bored of it, you chose to play with a game called Block. When you got tired of that too, you started looking around the streets wishing to see at least a mundane, but it seemed awfully empty even for a Sunday night.

You started walking around the bus stop just to pass the time. But it seemed like time has stopped and forgot to inform you about it.

You heard a loud banging noise coming from the alley behind the bus stop. You immediately reached for your dagger in your bag. You wanted to get your stele as well, but you couldn't find it. That's when you remembered leaving it on top of your table. You quickly scolded yourself for being so dumb, but you didn't take too much time to do so. Slowly you walked up to the narrow street and looked into it. You didn't see anything but the light of the other street at the end. You walked in, to have a look around.

As you started getting closer to the other side of the alley, you felt a strange smell. A strong, dark, garbage-like smell you knew too well. Before you could even react you felt heavy breathing coming from behind you. You turned around immediately, but it was too late. The monstrosity of creature growled at you and with a simple slap threw your body to the wall. You were in pain, but you just ignored it and threw one of your daggers towards the heart of the demon. To your surprise, he avoided it. He seemed like a low-rated demon and it concerned you that he got out of your dagger's way so easily. You started running towards him to stab him, but once again you missed. You started getting frustrated.

His big claws however didn't miss and they ended up ripping into your dress, leaving bloody claw marks on your body. As you didn't have your stele you were unable to use any of your runes. You had to endure the pain until you killed that bastard. Once again you attacked him. You focused on his leg to slow him down. You stabbed your daggers into each of his legs which caused the demon to scream in a high pitched noise. You pulled out your weapon from his body and without wasting time you picked up the other dagger wedged into the wall. You quickly turned around and this time you focused your weapon on the back of his leg. He let out another painful cry, but you didn't stop. You raised your dagger above your head and with full force, you stabbed into his heart. He tried to turn around to attempt a last attack on you, but he wasn't successful. He fell on the ground, but still didn't give up. He tried to crawl towards you, until he finally grabbed hold of your ankle. You tried to shake it off, but you couldn't. At last, using your other leg, you kicked him on the head. When his body turned into ashes, you knew it was finally over.

You looked down on yourself and sadly realised that your dress was ruined, your white jacket was covered in blood and you were still bleeding. You wanted to get on a bus and just get back to the institute, but you knew that you couldn't actually get on the bus in that state, so you decided to just walk home.

Walking back towards the bus stop, you still haven't seen anyone. You felt in a way disappointed for thinking too much into it, and betrayed for being left to wait for nothing. You tried to walk through the small streets and dark alleys not to meet mundanes as in your state it wasn't the best idea for them to see you.

When you finally arrived to the Institute, you only had one thought. Bed. You knew you had to shower and heal your wounds, but you only wanted your bed in that moment. As you walked in the door and closed it behind you, you straight away met the eldest Lightwood sibling.

"Y/N?" Alec asked looking up and down on you. "What happened?" His eyes grew bigger in confusion.

"I had some unexpected encounter with a Damon." You explained while waving it off as if it was not important.

"Were you attacked?" He asked bluntly.

"Erm.." You started and looked down on yourself. "I think my state gives you a quite obvious answer, don't you think?" You chuckled.

"It's not funny. The lacerations on your stomach..." He pointed at the middle part of your body. "Why didn't you heal yourself?"

"I forgot my stele on my table." You said while shrugging.

"What did you just say?" He raised his voice, but just enough so it wouldn't be too obvious for the others working in the hall. "Are you really that stupid? You could have died." He hissed in anger. His behaviour confused you and you just couldn't place it anywhere.

"Well I clearly am fine and I don't think I have risked the Institute or the Shadowhunters." You explained in frustration. "If anything I only risked myself, so I don't get why you are having a go at me." You shrugged your shoulders.

"You just explained my problem. You risked your life." He growled and you have never seen his eyes so dark.

"Awww, you are worried about me?" A huge grin appeared across your face. "Aren't you sweet?" You stepped closer and pinched his cheeks in the way your grandma did it to you when you were little. Your mood has been lifted and you didn't even care about your date not showing up anymore.

"Of course." He sighed. "You are like my sister." Your smile disappeared in seconds and a bored expression replaced it.

"Well, that ruined the moment quickly." You said in an annoyed tone. He just shook his head. He knew what you meant even without asking. He always tried to avoid the conversations about your feelings. "I guess I am going to put myself away for tomorrow. B-bye" You waved at him and walked to your room to heal yourself and clean off the dirt from all over your body.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to like the chapter. Thank you :)

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corvuserpens · 3 years

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The Roads That End: A Devil May Cry fanfic [Chapter 03]

Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Trigger warnings for: mentions of death and blood, also violence

Our first real battle and the plot thickens….

I get the feeling these chapters are maybe too long? I’m trying to keep them at 16-18 pages each, so like three scenes at most. What do you think?

MISSION 03: Hat Trick

June 30 – 10:20 AM

Transitioning from the Intact Zone to the Ruined Zone was very similar to driving from the rainforest to the arid desert.

Slowly, the further north they went, the normal signs of life gave way to a chilly stillness, with the level of destruction and decay rising after every neighborhood. The infrastructure showed cracks and gaping holes in its walls, scars left from the merciless invasion; the roads were still blocked off by debris in the less frequented streets; the lamp posts and signs were knocked out of place or gone entirely. Even the people’s disposition did a 180 in comparison: folks who lingered near the post-war scenario and dared to come out of their homes walked with their backs hunched, trying to avoid being seen, always looking over their shoulders in case they were about to get attacked.

The picture was made all the more glum by the dark clouds blowing in from the east, casting a shadow over the city that gave the feeling it was late afternoon rather than morning. There was no doubt in Lyca’s mind there would be rain that day.

It continued on an on, and if it weren’t for the chain link fence and police lines interrupting their path, it would be impossible to determine where one Zone ended and the other began.

“They call this place the Graveyard,” Lyca told them somberly once they crossed the border. “Because of all the collapsed buildings and the bodies they keep pulling out of the rubble. It’s like a warzone, here. They tell civilians that if they enter the RZ, they have approximately two minutes before encountering a demon, and then they will never come home again.”

“Spooky,” Dante commented in a disinterested tone. “So how many have tried?”

There was a somber pause before she answered: “So many they’ve lost count.”

Lyca gave her friend a quick condescending look. “And sure, a lot of them were dumbasses thinking they could go in and come back out to prove they were tough, or that the government was wrong and it was all a conspiracy or whatever. But most of them lost people on this side and they’re desperate to find them. Friends, family…”

“And they think putting themselves in danger is gonna change anything?”

She could tell from his tone and from the aura around him that he wasn’t being purposefully malicious. He simply thought that people shouldn’t risk certain death trying to achieve the impossible… That theirs was a fool’s hope to think their loved ones might still be alive.

“Sometimes waiting for news is worse than going out there to look for yourself,” Lyca told him. “I guess those people just need closure… That’s all. So they can start rebuilding their lives… or start mourning.”

On impulse, her eyes went to the rearview mirror, and for a split second she caught Vergil staring at her before he averted his gaze to the razed streets and bared foundations outside, the exposed bones from the corpse of Red Grave.

Visions of V crossed her mind: a thin young man dressed in all black reading from a leather-bound book in the corner of the office. The striking tattoos covering his arms and torso felt alive to her; she thought he might be a demon. A devilish smirk on his lips as he spun a silver cane in his hand. Green eyes scrying her own, like he could read her every thought. His voice, velvet smooth, reciting poems that stirred a long-lost childish excitement in her; she hadn’t thought about them in years, but still knew them almost by heart. Hearing them from another person’s lips was as thrilling as the heat of battle or being perilously close to a mosh pit during a metal concert.

The usual painful jab in the heart whenever she thought about V made itself known, indicating it was time to bury him. Breathing in deep, she added:

“At least, that’s how I felt the first time the Qliphoth rose and you, Lady and Trish went missing.” Too late, she realized what she’d said and peeked into the rearview mirror again. “No offense, Vergil.”

“Why? You’re right.” Dante laughed. He stretched his arms in front of him and rested them behind his head. “No point beating around the bush. Especially since the aftermath of it is all around us.”

“My brother is bitter because he knows I wiped the floor with him,” Vergil retorted. Lyca could almost hear him smirk. “No offense taken. You are right, as he said.”

Even so, she pursed her lips and didn’t speak again for the rest of the trip.

Nearly ten minutes had passed since they crossed the border, yet there wasn’t a single demon in sight. That didn’t mean they weren’t out there; Lyca could feel their presence, hiding in the ruins, skulking the shadows.

Oh, they’re out there alright, Corax crooned. Just biding their time…

As they entered a roundabout with an ornamented Baroque fountain at the center, she announced: “We’re almost at our destination.”

It hurt her heart to see most of the decorative statues of fish, oyster shells and mermaids had been reduced to a pile of beautifully carved rocks. That fountain alone had been 400 years old.

She drove the rental around it and took the last exit, which would lead them to the historic area. She dreaded to see the state it was currently in, if the destroyed spring behind them was any indication. A few more streets and dilapidated buildings zoomed past, and finally…

“Holy shit,” she breathed, immediately hitting the breaks. The sudden jolt caused the engine to stall, but just this once she didn’t care. The picture in front of them was so shocking it sucked up every ounce of attention.

The road she had taken led to a cobblestone plaza surrounded by houses and apartment condos that had stood there for centuries. In their prime, the walls of brick and limestone with richly decorated facades, tall domed ceilings and beautiful skylights filled one’s heart with wonder. The courtyard used to be full of restaurant terraces, vendor carts selling pretzels, churros and hotdogs; street artists would perform there often, and people flocked here every weekend to dine and go out for a dance underneath the lamp lights. There used to be an art gallery on the west side, and a museum opposite to it. Seasonal festivals and religious ceremonies were held there frequently because it was so spacious and picturesque. Now…

Now it was crawling with demons. Empusas, Hell Caina, Pyrobats, Riots… Smashing windows and tables, breaking down walls and upturning the cobble stones.

Hundreds of eyes zeroed in on their position, at first too stunned to react to this new sign of life, but soon they sprang to action like vultures to a cadaver.

“Here we go again,” Dante huffed. He stepped out of the rental and the Devil Sword named after him appeared in his hand in a combustion of sparks and hell fire.

Vergil followed his lead with the Yamato tight in his grasp, ready for battle. Picking up her sword from the back seat, Lyca did the same while quickly strapping it around her torso.

“Guess there won’t be a Renaissance fair this year, huh?” The red twin joked at the same time as he cut a nearby Empusa in half. “A shame! I do love those sword play demonstrations.”

“I don’t know, man.” Lyca retorted. She summoned Corax to battle, and in a single strike, the raven extended his jagged wings and knocked a couple of Pyrobats out of the sky. “This setting and our arsenal… I’d say we’re pretty damn close.”

With Boa’s lightning-fast reflexes she avoided a Reaper’s rusted blade and swung the Morning Star to counter, knocking the skeletal demon against a brittle wall that collapsed on it upon impact. “Just too bad there’s no one here to watch.”

Dante stabbed several enemies at once in the span of seconds, then switched to Ebony and Ivory to shoot them into ash. “Eh. Not the same.”

As she surveyed the area to access the situation, Lyca spotted something unusual that worried her more than the demons: a human civilian, cowering in a corner beneath an archway.

Without thinking twice, she rushed toward him, avoiding a couple of attacks from the enemies she ran past, then skidded and knelt beside a man not much older than Nero, with bright red hair.

“Hey!” She shouted to pull him out of his panicked state, grabbing a fistful of his grey hoodie. “What the hell are you doing here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?!”

As he covered his head with his arms, he peeked from between them and stared at her wide-eyed, pale as death. “I-I know, but–”

“But nothing, you need to get out of here now!” She noticed his hands were covered in blood, and some of it was spattered on his face as well. “Are you injured?”

“A-a little, I think…”

She glanced at a nearby alleyway, trying to remember where it used to lead. This was just what they were needing, goddamn. If she couldn’t get this guy to leave immediately, he would be dead within minutes and she didn’t need that weight in her conscience. “Can you stand? You think you can run?”

“I can try.”

Lyca helped him up, then immediately forced his head down to avoid a stray fireball from one of the Pyrobats.

“Fucking Christ!!” The man shrieked.

“Corax, Boa! Cover me!”

At once, her familiars flocked to her and closed ranks, doing their best to keep the onslaught of demons occupied while she helped the man into the alley.

“Listen to me carefully,” she told him. “Follow this path all the way through. It’ll take you to the other side of the historic area. When you get there, turn right and follow east – that’s the direction of the sun, okay? Keep moving until you reach the border, don’t stop for nothing and don’t look back. Then you cross it, and you never come back here, understood?”

He nodded frantically and quickly obeyed her command, running along the alley as fast as his legs could carry him. Lyca didn’t stick around to make sure he got to the other side; there were demons to kill. She squeezed the grip of her sword and went back into the fray.

“Damn civilians!” Corax cursed. “I’m starting to agree with Dante, they’re lunatics!”

From the corner of her eye, Lyca saw a dash of blue. Next thing, Vergil stood rather majestically whilst sliding the Yamato back into her saya, leaving at least six or seven Empusas dead in his wake. Her breath was caught in her lungs as he swung the katana with mortal expertise, only for then leap in the air to cut up another Bat into ribbons with merely two strikes and immediately dive down into the midst of another onslaught of Reapers, practically running them over without leaving a single one standing.

He had hardly moved, yet killed all those demons like it was effortless. It was terrifying. It was beautiful. Vergil swept back some stray hairs from his face, the image of calm and serenity, and off he went to continue his devastation.

Lyca was so distracted by the spectacle that another Empusa snuck up on her and almost bit her head off. If it weren’t for Boa intervening with a slash of her long white body, the insectoid would have succeeded.

“Get your head in the game,” she hissed. “Or you will risk losing it.”

“Thanks, Boa.”

With so many enemies around, Lyca decided for the light-and-fast strategy: shuffling this way and that, she easily dodged any attacks and instantly hit back, landing every stroke of her blade on demonic flesh. Once in a while, she would spot either Dante or Vergil for a second or two, wreaking havoc like it was child’s play. Admittedly, she was a little jealous of how strong they were because that half demon blood could do some serious damage. Not that she wasn’t grateful for her own lot of demon power. It wasn’t as bombastic, but it did the job.

From the air, Corax monitored the battle and made sure the Pyrobats didn’t become too much of a nuisance, assisting by throwing batches of knife-like feathers or knocking them to the ground where any of the hunters could destroy it.

“Dante is getting overwhelmed,” he warned, but not a moment later he rectified: “Ah wait, no he’s not. Shit, I think he got even more OP after the Underworld!”

While he was talking, a Bat dove past him toward Lyca. She wasn’t fast enough to avoid the surprise attack, and so it violently threw her back against an outdoor table that somehow still stood, only to tragically get smashed under her weight. Tasting blood in her mouth, Lyca grunted from the pain spanning from hip to shoulder and feared to move in case something got broken. Fortunately, when she rolled onto her side and stood, the pain remained superficial, which meant her injuries probably weren’t serious.

“Oops,” Corax croaked. “Sorry, my bad.”

“Dammit… I think I bit my tongue.” Lyca spat a mouthful of blood onto the cobblestone, staining them red. She smelled burnt fiber and looked down: her coat and shirt were smoking; the later sported a few new tiny holes that threatened to catch fire. With a curse, she stuck the Star on a patch of exposed dirt, unbuckled its strap and removed the coat, tossing everything aside.

“You had one job, bird brain.”

“Well, just goes to show, never trust a demon too much!” Corax kept the Pyrobat occupied while she prepared, then swooped down to his master just as the devil launched a torrent of fire on her.

As black wings sprung from her back, Lyca jumped up and over the Bat, the Morning Star again firmly held in both hands. Doing a forward flip, the sword found its target and sliced right through the middle of that hellish body like it was made of butter. She landed on her feet and hit a passing Empusa in the face (faces? The face in its face? The facial region).

“Yeah,” she teased. “Especially if it’s a black chicken with attention issues,”

“Hey! That hurts my feelings!!” Corax protested.

Lyca snorted. She could already feel whatever wounds she might’ve suffered healing, thanks to Boa’s power. “You know I love you.”

“Yeah, you keep sweet talking, see if it gets you anywhere. Brat.”

Confronting another bug, Lyca parried and deflected its pincers in search for an opening in its relentless attacks, but the thing was so aggressive that she was forced to retreat for more maneuvering. Unfortunately, though, instead of finding more space, she was backed into a corner.

The Empusa threw another blow meant for her head which she barely blocked. Out of options, Lyca pulled sputum into her mouth and charged it with demonic power that prickled her tongue and cheeks. It was a pretty gross tactic, but there was no denying it was effective: she spat the bloodied load directly into the middle face of the demon, and the creature’s skin immediately began to smoke and corrode, melting like ice-cream in the sun. Squealing in pain, the Empusa backed away to try and rub off the acid spit, giving the huntress the perfect opportunity to swing and decapitate it.

“Hate bugs,” she muttered.

There was no time to rest however, as more Reapers charged at her. Looking around, she spotted a hole several meters above the ground, blown into the wall of the next building over. She rushed towards it, stepped onto a stony flower bed at the base and leapt, using Corax’s wings as a stabilizer.

Once out of reach and relatively safe from her assailants, Lyca made a pause to breath and examine the battlefield.

The twins were on opposite sides of the plaza: Vergil had surrounded himself in a ring of spectral glowing blue swords that spun around him, damaging everything they touched and keeping any demons stupid enough to attack at bay. Then, one by one, they shot out in different directions, each of them killing an enemy without mercy.

Meanwhile, Dante was having fun using what Pyrobats remained as target practice, getting in various (often ridiculous) positions to shoot; behind his back, under a leg, over his head and around his torso, like a fucking matador teasing the bull. He would then put away the pistols and spring out his shotgun, holding it in one hand as he squeezed the trigger, loaded it, whipped it shut and shot again.

“Yee-haw!” She heard him yodel while advancing on the poor damn creatures. “Yeah, come and get some! Woohoo!!”

Lyca buried her face in the palm of her hand to conceal the second-hand embarrassment (and her laughter).

What had looked like a horde of demons upon arrival, now had been reduced to a mere dozen. Only one Pyrobat remained, fleeing in terror from Dante’s bullets, and Vergil cut down the last of the Empusas. With the plaza mostly cleared, Lyca was able to spot one of her favorite objects when on the job: a gas bottle, likely a leftover from a restaurant. Even better, it sat right next to Dante’s feet.

A smirk spread on her lips. She adjusted her grip on her blade and peered down to the cluster of Reapers at the base of her wall, trying to claw their way up unsuccessfully.

“You two ready?” She asked her familiars.

“When are we not?” Corax remarked.

“Eh–”

“Apart from two minutes ago!!”

“Okay, okay.” She chuckled. “Boa?”

The snake materialized around her neck, flicking her tongue at the smell of prey.

“Let’s do it.”

“Alright.” She looked up at the red twin and shouted: “Hey, Dante!”

He swatted away the last remaining Empusa with his Devil Sword (Vergil took it out with a precise downward slash) and searched for where her voice had come from.

“You see what I see?” She nodded toward the highly inflammable bottle lying a few meters from him. He grinned so wide upon seeing it, his cheeks almost tore apart.

“Oh-ho-ho. Hell yeah I do!” His eyes traveled from the Reapers gathered below her position to hers. They traded an accomplice smirk.

“Ready?” She asked.

Dante nodded and got into position.

“Go!”

Dante sprang forward and landed a carefully calculated kick to the bottle, sending it up into the air. Lyca waited for it to ascend to a perfect angle, then jumped forward. Mid-air, she stretched out her sword to the one Pyrobat left; Boa flew out, using her arm and the blade as leverage to hop off and wrap her body around the demon, encasing its wings so it would fall on top of the Reapers.

Corax took over the scene: he grabbed Lyca’s shirt and helped her spin into position by pulling her down so her back was facing the ground. The bottle flew above her. Gritting her teeth, she rammed her steel-tipped boot onto it with a resonating metallic ‘bong’. The projectile sped to the agglomerate of Hell Caina below, and Dante delivered the grand finale by pulling out Ebony and Ivory one more time.

The gas container exploded in a ball of fire that destroyed everything within a three-meter radius and made the ground shake, filling the air with clouds of ash, cinder blocks and demonic remains. The blast was probably heard all the way from the border, Lyca wagered.

Landing on her hands and feet, she stood up straight with her free arm and sword up in a V, like she was an Olympic gymnast, grinning triumphantly.

“Perfect score!” Dante bellowed as he approached, holding up his hands for her. “Ten outta ten, and the gold medal is yours!”

“Thank you, thank you!” She double high-fived him while laughing. “Couldn’t have done it without my talented partner.”

“Talented and gorgeous,” he nudged.

“Of course, how could I forget.” She snorted.

Together, they turned to look at the mess they had made. No demons. No building. Just a pile of wrecked mason, wood and the awful stench of burning gas.

Dante put his arm loosely around Lyca’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “I missed you, babe,” he hummed in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

Without hesitating, she let her own arm go around his torso. “I missed you too, pal.”

And they stood there like that, holding each other, soaking in the fact they were together again and everything was back to normal. Well, mostly.

Vergil stepped up next to his brother, joining them in admiring their handiwork.

“That was…”

“Incredible?” Dante offered. “Outstanding? Spectacular?”

“I was going to say reckless.” He shot back, scowling at the other. “Dangerous. Stupid.”

“Maybe.” Dante released Lyca and began to walk back to the car. “But it was worth it.”

The huntress faced the eldest twin with a big, proud smile. “We call that a Hat Trick,” she told him; however, her smile withered rather fast before the fierce look of disapproval on his face.

“W-we do it all the time. It’s… a thing we… do…”

“How comforting.” Vergil spat. He glanced down at her chin, said: “You’re bleeding.” And turned to follow Dante, leaving her planted to her spot.

Corax landed on her shoulder while Boa coiled around her arm.

“Eesh, someone’s got a stick up their butt,” he muttered.

“Waaaay up,” the serpent added. “I know Dante said he was the boring brother, but damn. What a prick.”

Lyca wiped the remnants of blood from her mouth. “Whatever…” She sighed, looking around for where she’d left her trench coat.

She spotted it among the wreckage of tables and chairs she had been projected against earlier and jogged over. Boa retired to her bracelet, but Corax stayed in his raven form, flying by his master’s side.

She picked up the sheath of the Morning Star first, returned the blade to its leather and strapped it around her back. Next, she grabbed the coat and shook it off before folding it over her arm. Prepared to join her companions, Lyca began to turn when something caught her eye.

Over there, on the abandoned restaurant, she saw red on the oaken doors. With a sense of dread, she got closer to inspect it, and her fears were then confirmed: that symbol she had seen before was painted there, clear as day.

“Shit…” She moaned. The ruffle of feathers reached her ears as two pairs of talons dug into her shoulder.

“Oh, man. That’s not a good sign,” Corax muttered.

“We don’t know yet,” she tried to smooth both his nerves and her own. “We haven’t seen this since May.”

The raven’s plumage stuck up straight as he bobbed his head up and down anxiously. “Nah, Lyca. I got a bad feeling about it, I’m telling you.”

She looked at her familiar, wide eyed. “How so?”

“It’s… How do I put it…? I look at that sign and it makes me feel nauseous. Uneasy. Makes me want to get the hell away from it. Whatever that thing is, it’s evil.”

Well, then. That most certainly was not a good sign. When her devils said something was off or gave her ominous warnings about seemingly random things, obviously she was going to listen. Especially Corax, with his acute ability of insight. Rarely had either him or Boa been wrong, if ever.

“Hey, Lyca!” Dante called out from behind them. “What’s the hold up? I was hoping we could stop by Freddy’s for a sundae on the way back.”

“Yeah,” she returned, glancing over her shoulder. I was just taking a look at this.” She gestured toward the sinister symbol.

He ran over leisurely and squinted his eyes at painted the doors.

“What is it?” He inquired. Vergil approached as well, though he chose to observe the mark from afar.

“I have no idea, but this is the fourth time I’ve seen it in the past months. The first one popped up in January, but with the disinfestation and rebuilding efforts we haven’t investigated it, yet.”

Dante rubbed his chin in thought before turning to his brother. “What do you make of it, Vergil? Ever seen it?”

He stepped forward until he stood by Lyca’s side and silently studied the symbol for nearly a full minute.

“I have not,” he admitted. “It looks like cuneiform script or something similar to it.”

“I thought so as well,” she agreed in a dispirited tone. Vergil gave her a patronizing look, with his eyebrows pressed together over his eyes.

“You know about cuneiform?” He questioned.

“Yeah,” she half shrugged. Staring up at him defiantly, she seized her opportunity for some payback from a few minutes ago. “I mean, it’s not like it’s hard to identify, y’know.”

Behind her, Dante disguised a snort by coughing exaggeratedly into his fist. Vergil’s eyes narrowed and still she stared into them, waiting for a comeback, but there was none. Instead, he straightened his back, holding his head high, and went back to examining the symbol.

That’s right, you proud bastard, sit down.

Corax climbed down her arm until he perched on her fist, crooning and snapping his beak. Lyca smoothed down his lustrous purple-black feathers. “Anyway… Corax says it’s evil.”

Dante raised a finger. “Question. What’s cuneh-ff… Cooneyahffff…” He gestured around with his hands, doing his utmost best to spell out the term.

“Cuneiform script,” she corrected patiently with a ghost of a smile. “It’s the oldest writing system known to humanity. It predates Egyptian hieroglyphs and was used in the Near East for approximately 3000 years.”

“Huh.” Dante nodded like found it interesting, but she knew he could care less about ancient scripture and history. “Cool, that’s nice. So, what’s it doing here?”

“A good question,” Vergil hummed, as intrigued as Lyca, to whom he addressed next. “Excluding Assyriologists, it’s not as well-known as the hieroglyphs. Most people don’t even know it exists.”

“Lucky for us–” Dante laid a heavy hand on the huntress’ shoulder. “Lyca here is a Linguistics expert.”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you a thousand times, I’m not an expert.” Corax took off as she rummaged through her coat’s pockets for her phone. “I don’t have a degree. I just like languages.”

After pulling out the device, she unlocked it and snapped a couple of shots of the sign to send to Lady with the caption: This again? Stay alert.

“So you’re a regular nerd instead of a graduate nerd. Same difference to me.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Vergil instantly jabbed.

“Oh, lighten up would’ya?” Dante peered over Lyca’s head to his twin, always with that mischievous grin plastered on his face. “I’m just messing with her, she knows I don’t mean anything by it. Butt off, Vergil.”

While they bickered, she continued to contemplate the symbol. The paint was semi-fresh, still dripping in some places. Now that Corax had pointed it out, Lyca was also getting some weird, oppressive vibes from it. Evil. The intrusive thought felt too accurate to describe the feeling it gave her. And that paint was strange. Too liquid. Not thick or pasty like regular wall paint or acrylic, it was more like ink.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone buzzing in her hand: a reply from Lady. She opened it and her mouth went dry at the sight on the screen.

“Uh, guys?”

Dante and Vergil interrupted their sibling spat to look at her. “What?” They asked in unison.

“Lady just sent me this…” She turned the phone for them to see the photograph Lady had sent her: the same symbol as the one in front of them, drawn on a wall, in red.

On top of the picture, Lady had captioned: I don’t like this.

#devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil #vergil x oc #stories by Crow #the roads that end fanfic

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

Text

Contradictions

Summary: Google meets Bim for the first time, and comes to realize that Dark is full of contradictions.

A/N: Google is my curious bean and I want good things to happen to him (looks at the angst I have planned and sweeps it under the rug) nothing but good things.

Also the files mentioned are the other’s kids that Dark is planning on “adopting” in the coming month which is when the Lost Ones story I wrote takes place.

~::~ 14 Years Ago ~::~

It had been a couple weeks after Dark had taken Bim to the office for the first time, he had brought him back again. In that week, rumors flew like mad. Most people were writing off the encounter, but others took and exaggerated it to an extreme degree.

Dark’s blue soul might have helped with some of the wilder ones. But he had to set up some insurance after Bim lost himself in a shopping mall.

So Dark was back in his main warehouse office with Bim, two of his most loyal enforcers, his lieutenants, and Google.

Google was staring at Bim, an expressionless mask over his face.

“I have many questions,” he finally said.

“I have even more,” Bargs agreed as Dark’s other lieutenant was walking forward.

Sierras pinched Bim’s cheeks, almost knocking the child frames almost tied to his face, “What a cute little thing.”

Bim was trying to push her away.

Bargs was just staring at the kid, looking uneasy, “Where’d he come from? Is he Wil’s?”

“That would be the most logical conclusion,” Google agreed.

“The official statement on the books is that Edgar procured him for me,” Dark warned, as the man in question walked in with a stack of six five files.

“Here yah go,” Ed sighed, handing Dark the files who began quickly flipping through them. Before sliding them through the Void, and acting like he’d never been given them in the first place.

Edgar realized Bim was standing there and gave the boy an uncomfortable look before nervously eyeing the door. “Am I released now?”

“Ed isn’t he just the cutest.” Sierras smiled as Bim finally pulled himself free and walked over to Dark.

The southern gave a look towards Dark, “Sure, yeah, yah’all need anythin’ else, or am I good?”

“You can go,” Dark dismissed. “Get to work.”

“Thank yah,” Ed rushed out of the room.

Google watched him go, observing every twitch he made, once the door closed the android dared to comment, “And the reason for this clearly false statement?”

Both Dark’s lieutenants looked nervous, staring at Google.

“I have a suspicion that he’ll look more and more like Wilford as he gets older,” Dark admitted. “I want to avoid people that Wil has slept with in the past trying to extort me.”

“So he is Wil’s?” Sierras asked in surprise, trying to look around Dark’s leg where Bim was glaring angrily at her.

Google knelt down, trying to get a good look at the boy, already taking in observations like the nice clothes and the glasses.

“Like everything else he does he acts before he thinks,” Dark explained. “Wil’s nickname for him is Junior, that will suffice.”

“That’s not my name,” Bim told Dark, clearly upset,

“We talked about this,” Dark scolded calmly.

“I wanna go back to Daddy,” Bim told Dark.

“In a minute, I have to talk with the and then we’ll go,” Dark’s voice was firm, noticing that Google was now staring at him.

“Well all I have to add is that if either of you spot him running loose, which should never happen,” Dark glared at Bim on that last part of his statement, “he should be brought back to me. If anyone asks you about rumors about him, you are to deny them, even if the statement is incorrect.”

All three of them agreed to his demands, and then Dark dismissed his lieutenants, keeping Google in the room with him and Bim.

“Just say it,” Dark ordered him.

“This . . .” Google went quiet for a second. “This contradicts your previous actions.”

Dark clasped his hands behind his back, internally cursing Google for being too useful, “How so?”

“You show regular disdain for others, even your captains and lieutenants who you allow to live despite their many constant failings, like breathing,” Google explained. “However inordinate care was given to Wil’s child. He has a pair of glasses showing you regularly take him to doctors and specialists, because I highly doubt Warfstache would show such foresight. I tally that with your own clothing style, this boy’s suit must cost a similarly proportional amount.”

Walking forward, Dark thought for a second about the best way to go about this, “I’m going to need you to agree to something, a simple NDA.”

“Why not just command me?” Google snarled, hating the idea of being silenced by any means.

Dark looked back at Bim, “We’d agreed not to speak of that in company.”

“And why would I want that?” Google asked.

Bim made a gasp, and pointed at Google, “Why do you have his face?”

“It’s not polite to point, Sunshine,” Dark corrected, using his aura to push his hand down.

“Sunshine?” Google repeated. “May I ask who his maternal donor was so I can mentally prepare for the court case? Or should I preemptively kill them beforehand?”

“Bim is a clone of Wilford and I,” Dark admitted.

Google froze and he pointedly stared at Bim, “A clone, I was not aware you were interested in that?”

“If I tell you anything else,” Dark warned. “You will agree that everything I tell you, from his real name to his status as a clone stays between the two of us. Any information that I divulge, you can also communicate that information with them, but not anything more than that.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Google admitted; so long as he was not denied the information, he didn’t care who else Dark excluded. Smiling, Google brought up a holographic screen with the exact terms Dark had brought up. That Google would stay quiet so long as Dark shared information with him.

Dark read through everything and they both agreed to it.

There was a quiet gasp and Bim walked over, trying to grab the screen. “So cool.”

The Entity frowned at Bim, but before Dark could nudge Bim away, Google brought up one of his screens and had some glowing circles on it. Google watched his pupils briefly dilated before he touched the screen. The circles looked like they were exploding into fireworks when Bim tapped them.

Bim began slamming his hands against the circles as they appeared, Google calculating his reflexes as he went.

“You were saying?” Google urged Dark, the android hadn’t taken his eyes off him.

“Now that we agree to the terms, and I demand you print out a copy of that immediately,” Dark ordered.

“Done,” Google was already sending the information to Dark’s personal printer. “So whose DNA was used to make him?”

“By the records I have both mine and Wil’s were used,” Dark admitted. “No, I do not know how that works. In time, when I can trust your silence, I will give you access to his medical record. Junior’s real name is included in our little arrangement. You will address him as the others do.”

“Okay,” Google agreed, before observing Bim a little more closely, he’d gotten bored with Google’s little test and was tapping all over the screen to get it to do something else. “Why use Warfstache’s DNA? Was it for creating a more powerful clone?”

“As if I would use anyone else’s DNA,” Dark scoffed. “Wil is one of the few individuals I can tolerate on a regular basis.”

“An aspect of your personal life I fail to understand,” Google admitted. “Warfstache is loud and invasive and an overall security risk. If those traits were learned by a child it stands to reason that it might be an annoyance rather than beneficial.”

Dark just about took Google’s head off for his barbed comment, and the android felt Dark’s aura tightly curling around his neck, a warning sensor silently went off.

“Unless those traits were purposely selected?” Google corrected, unsure how to word his way out of Dark’s anger. He didn’t understand Wilford. The first time he’d met him Google had shot him and was consequently shoved aside by Dark. Wilford was, by all records that Google could find, indestructible. He didn’t die. Warfstache walked into the warehouse on many occasions with singed hair, clothes riddled with bullet holes, cuts that would kill a lesser being, and drenched in blood. His own or another’s Google was unsure and uncaring

Perhaps the demon found such displays “attractive” but that was something Google understood even less. Dark was a violent individual, something Google found he could actually understand, but Google barely had the ability to understand human mating patterns as it was . . .

But if Bim was a product of this relationship, perhaps this was standard demonic reproduction. Just applied with modern technology.

Dark’s vast power with Warfstache’s indestructibility . . . in an easily controlled and easy to teach package.

“Of course,” Google realized, his thought train lasted mere seconds to the outside world. “Naturally it would be.”

Dark seemed more confused than angry, and his aura constricted a bit looser than before.

“Are Wilford’s powers linked to his personality, or is his personality a byproduct of those powers?” Google wondered out loud, his processors already going off.

Dark raised at eyebrows, hands lightly clasped behind his back as he tried to use his aura to keep Bim from physically touching Google. The little boy was trying to reach up to touch the glowing “G” on his chest, and Dark didn’t trust Google not to electrocute Bim on reflex.

Thankfully Google hadn’t noticed and wasn’t waiting for an answer, his brain was already spinning with the applications that a child with demon heritage could be used for, seeing Bim far less as a person, and instead seeing him as a weapon. A prototype stage of a weapon, but a weapon nonetheless.

He was roused out of that when Dark spoke up, “I think you’re overthinking about this too much. Wil is a particular indulgence of mine. He is a good outlet for relieving stress.”

“How many people know about this?” Google asked.

“Apart from you and me? Two other people.” Dark pushed Bim away from Google and the little boy huffed and glared up at Dark, stomping his feet a little bit. “You will keep your hands to yourself, or you’re not going to the station afterward.”

Bim looked more offended then threatened, silently gasping before closing his mouth and puffing out his cheeks, turning away from Dark.

Dark visibly rolled his eyes, looking down at Bim for a couple seconds, then he turned back to Google and looked as if the exchange had never happened, “Anyway, you understand the need for complete secrecy. I understand and expect the information will get out eventually, but hopefully not until he’s more physically self-sufficient.”

“Does his development usually require close supervision or do you just leave him with a caretaker of some kind?” Google looked over Bim, trying to see any other signals that someone else looked after the boy.

“What is Wil’s belongs to me.” Dark motioned to Bim, “And he is Wil’s, I am not entrusting him to anyone else.”

“That makes sense,” Google agreed, going completely, inhumanely still. “Less cross-contamination.”

“I don’t think we’re having the same conversation,” Dark admitted. “But so long as you keep quiet, I don’t care what type of conversation we’re having.”

“If I might ask, why tell me at all?” Google asked.

“Because I can bully and threaten the others not to ask questions, or just leave them to believe that Bim is purely Wil’s son,” Dark told Google. “You however, I can’t afford to leave you to just ask questions, particularly around other people who will also ask the right questions.”

Google was fairly certain that was just a compliment, the first he’d ever gotten from Dark.

Then Dark added, “Then there’s also the fact that when you fixate on a task, I benefit from the information you find. So there are more pros than cons to bringing you into confidence.”

Blinking a couple of times, Google found he couldn’t fault in that line of logic. Google had never come into contact with a human clone before.

Google knelt down to get a closer limp and when Bim grabbed his face he used every ounce of self control not to shove him away. He did pull Bim’s hands down, trying to be as feather-light so he didn’t stress a single bone.

The android had never had to be gentle, it was a strange expectation for him. Not only for other people to have of him, but for him to have that same expectation of himself. “Everyone in the network calls you an underground Kingpin, I suppose that would make him a prince.”

Bim was tapping on Google’s glowing icon, Google refusing to let him access his settings or anything.

“He certainly acts like one,” Dark admitted, a softer expression on his face as he looked at Bim. “Wil enjoys spoiling him, but he is an only child so there’s nowhere else to put that attention. Besides, Bim is more than deserving of attention.”

“And what are you?” Google asked out loud, wondering about Bim’s hormonal and physical state.

“I’m gonna be a big tv star, like my daddy,” Bim smiled, holding his arms out. “I’m gonna grow a mustache just like him.”

Google projected this would just lead to another Warfstache, and Dark was letting out a long, controlled exhale, muttering to himself with a tone of absolute contempt, “Another actor in the family.”

Bim looked over at Dark, hurt and confused, “Huh?”

“Nevermind, Bim,” Dark opened up a portal. “Let’s go find your father, come along.”

Bim ran through the portal at full speed, an excited smile on his face.

“Remember our little arrangement,” Dark warned Google.

“As long as you supply me information,” Google agreed. “I will.”

“Of course,” Dark gave him a little grin and disappeared into the portal after Bim, leaving the android alone.

Quietly and stiffly, Google stood up and strolled out of the room, more than a little gleeful at the secret knowledge he harbored.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Markiplier #Darkiplier #Googleplier #Bim Trimmer #ed edgar #fluff #Google is a curious boi #Darkstache #but it's background only

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