Latest Posts by glass-rats - Page 2

After many nights of doubt and procrastination I finally finished this piece! The official poster for The Amazing Digital World. I wanna thank all my friends for their advice, time and cheers as I kept building this poster.

I had big expectations, and although I still have a lot to learn, I wanted to create something beautiful with the abilities I had, and I hope you all like it as well 💗

Demon Slayer, but Nezuko looking a bit unhinged.

I should do a series of this. Lol.

IN THE NETHERWOOD

PART I

KINKTOBER 2023 ♤ WEREWOLF!SANEMI X RED RIDING HOOD! READER

A/N: did I get carried away? Yes. Do I care? No.

Part I is plot + smut. Part II is minimal plot and a lot of smut. Like a concerning amount.

Forgive the pace/editing errors. This was supposed to be a one shot that turned into a two part fic lmao.

CW: violence/some description of gore • mating • knotting/discussions of knotting • biting/mating • feral/protective Sanemi • virgin!Reader who is a big time monsterfucker • oral sex (F!receiving) • Sanemi makes a mess of his breeches • implied murder/other violence by Douma, but left purposefully ambiguous • brief description of another human being eaten

This honestly could be a multi-part fic that continues after Part II, given how much I leave open — but I’ll let you all decide if you want that. For now, enjoy the ride, monster-fuckers. Happy Kinktober!

You’d known Douma’s band of acolytes had been pursuing you for at least a quarter of a mile through the dark wood, and you’d only grown more and more desperate as the excited titter of their voices drew nearer.

You were panicking; with every moment that passed, your legs grew heavier as the weariness of the last day and a half of your journey became a weight you could no longer ignore.

Find the huntsman of the Netherwood! Your grandmother had pled as she’d fastened the thick, scarlet cloak around your shoulders. He guides those in need to far-away villages. He will take you somewhere safe — where Douma cannot find you.

Grandmother did not dare let any of the tears sparkling in her eyes fall as she looped her hands behind you and pulled the hood of your cloak up over your head, concealing your hair from sight. Head north until you come to the river and then head west. You will find his cabin. Go!

Granny had all but pushed you out of her small cottage — the cottage you had come to regard as your home — and off into the chilly, autumn night.

You hadn’t questioned the urgency, though the realization that you would likely never again return to your grandmother — or even see her alive — hadn’t stung any less. But you knew, as well as the old woman who’d raised you after your parents disappeared in the Netherwood, that if Douma got his hands on you, you would never be seen or heard from again.

Just like his four other previous wives.

The last woman he’d taken as his bride had been a dear friend of yours — Kotoha — and she’s arguably lasted the longest, though perhaps that was because she’d been pregnant when the frost lotus containing his marriage demand arrived at her parents’ hut.

The eclectic village worship leader hadn’t apparently minded that Kotoha had been pregnant with another man’s child — she was unmarried, young, and beautiful; it was all Douma required.

The tension among the village women had dissipated once Kotoha had survived the first week of her union with the rainbow-eyed monster. After all, the other three wives had barely lived to see the next morning, never mind seven.

Kotoha had lived several more months — even giving birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy whom she’d doted over, and even you thought that perhaps the rumors swirling through the village had been wrong. Perhaps those other three women truly had run off into the night with various lovers, leaving Douma alone in his mansion in the eastern wing of the village.

The last you’d seen her, your friend had been smiling and bright, happily making her way back to her marital home, baby Inosuke happily snuggled against her chest, as she’d cheerfully waved you goodbye.

Kotoha was never heard from again. Though the village elders had dispatched a recovery team to search for her, no trace of either her, nor the precious baby boy whom she’d loved so dearly, could be found.

A week later, your grandmother opened the front door of her homely cottage to find a single frost lotus resting on her doorstep.

No one turned down Douma’s marriage proposals; but neither did anyone survive them.

And so, your grandmother had packed a small satchel with what meager provisions she could scrounge, wrapped you in her heirloomed scarlet cloak, and pushed you out the door, begging you to find the mysterious huntsman of the Netherwood so that you would not become the village’s newest ghost.

Douma had surely slaughtered your beloved grandmother by now, having learned of her insolence.

You clamped down on the mournful sob building in your throat, knowing if you allowed yourself to give into your grief, it would only slow you down even further, and make it more likely that her sacrifice for your life would be in vain.

Though, in fairness, it might all be for naught anyways; the Netherwood was not a humble forest with only the occasional gray wolf or hungry bear to fear.

For centuries, your village had stood on the outskirts of the dark, ancient wood which divided it from the nervous system of villages and bustling little towns that made up the region. That isolation meant your village had become largely self-sustaining, though a few brave souls managed to make a yearly sojourn across the Wood to trade with establishments on the other side. The forest stretched for miles, encompassing small mountains and rocking ravines that were difficult enough to navigate on their own, especially in disagreeable weather.

But rugged and often temperamental terrain was child’s play compared to the horrors which lurked within the shadows of the Wood.

To start, as you’d come to realize over the last day and a half of your trek, the Netherwood was nothing but shadow. Though you’d surely traveled through the night and well into the following day, not a trace of daylight had pierced the thick canopy of leaves and twisted vines which loomed overhead. Your only indicator that day had, in fact, arrived, had been your sighting of a few songbirds quietly fluttering from tree to tree, as their songs swallowed by the deafening silence of the forest.

But the eerie quiet of the Wood was nothing compared to what you knew prowled within its depths.

You’d grown up hearing tales of the various beasts and cryptids that made the Netherwood their home – and made any unsuspecting traveler their meal. Your own parents had embarked on a dangerous trek into the Netherwood, seeking out a village on the other side rumored to have much-needed medication for your ailing grandfather, only to never be seen or heard from again. Your grandfather had succumbed to his illness not long after, though you’d often wondered whether his guilt and heartbreak hadn’t hastened his demise.

And so the Netherwood had taken your parents and your grandfather, leaving you with only your cherished grandmother as your family. Over the years, those who dared venture into the Wood often did not return, the dark of the forest swallowing them whole and leaving no trace of them behind.

Now, it was through this very Wood that you found yourself running, clinging to the desperate hope that perhaps you’d find this mysterious Huntsman and be saved, though the sluggishness that had entered your exhausted limbs seemed to suggest that you were more likely to be caught by your pursuers. And that was assuming you didn’t end up as something dinner’s before then.

You continued to stumble through the trees, ducking under various branches and batting away stringy spiderwebs, trying not to allow your frustration to get the better of you. After a while, the voices tracking you grew more and more silent, before the walls of the forest swallowed them completely, leaving you utterly alone. 

As you shoved brush and thorns out of your way, the forest opened to give way to a small river, though it was barely more than a creek. It bubbled merrily, as though completely unaware of the horrors lurking behind the shadows of the ancient grove of trees. 

Several lengths ahead, you spotted something crouched beside the water. Your first instinct was panic, thinking you’d stumbled across one of the nefarious creatures of the Wood, a meal being offered to it on a silver platter, but as your vision adjusted, you realized it was only a man, splashing his face with the creek’s cool reserve.

“A-are you the Huntsman?” You hated how timid your voice was, but truthfully, you’d been running for what felt like an eternity, and each snap of a twig in the Woods around had you on edge. You deserved to be frightened, dammit. 

The man snorted before rising to his feet. “I am a Huntsman; whether I am the one you seek, I cannot say.”

 He was taller than you and well-built. His tunic boasted a deep v at the chest exposing a vast swath of the man’s sculpted chest, the skin as scarred as his broad forearms. His breeches were by no means skintight, but it was clear his legs were also made from the same, sinewy muscle that covered the rest of him.

Idly, you wondered whether he was as scarred beneath his clothing as he was out of it. 

He was handsome, there was no doubt, but his appearance was striking. He had a mop of silvery-white hair, parted slightly to cover the criss-cross of scars etched into the right side of his forehead. Below a pair of startling lilac eyes, you could just make out another jagged scar that extended from his right ear to the bridge of his nose. 

He turned back to you, mouth pulled down in an annoyed grimace. “What is your business in the Wood, girl?” 

His eyes roamed the crimson cloak draped around your shoulders, and you swore for a moment there was something akin to amusement glinting in his eyes, despite the severe set of his mouth. 

You shuddered at the sharp intensity of his lilac gaze. “I seek a guide through the Wood — I need to get to one of the villages on the other side.”

Something in the forest snapped and you flinched, though it did not bother the Huntsman, who only narrowed his eyes at you. 

“Are you being pursued?” 

You nodded, your fingers tightening around the folds of your cloak and wrapping it tighter around your shivering frame. “I do not know how many, but they have dogs.”

The Huntsman nodded, stroking his chin in contemplation. “I can get you to the other side in two days; three at most, should your followers pose a problem.” 

You were floored at how easily he accepted your request, even with the additional threat of being hunted like animals by Douma’s men, but you were grateful all the same. 

“I have payment,” you started, hands shooting to dig through the small pouch fastened around your waist, but the wild Huntsman only shook his head. 

“I do not take payment. I will escort you and then I won’t have to worry about any creatures of the Wood sniffing out your bones and getting too close.”

Charming, you groused in your head, though the implication nestled in his words sent another shudder down your spine. 

“What is your name, girl?” The Huntsman’s voice pulled you back to him and the forest, his face expectant. 

You gave him your name and felt a warmth spread through you as he repeated it, mouth mulling over each syllable like it was wrapped with velvet.

“You can call me Sanemi,” the Huntsman said, reaching for the hand-axe lying on its side by the riverbank. “Follow me.” 

---

The Hunstman led you through a winding path that would have been untraceable had you not been watching the way Sanemi’s eyes marked certain landmarks — an errant tree branch here, a particular thorn bush there. 

“Since you are being tracked, we need to move right away,” Sanemi had explained as you stumbled after him, your feet snaring over the various bumps and snarls of tree roots that jutted out from the forest floor. “But I need to gather a few things from my cabin. It’s just a little ways off, and then we will leave.”

Sanemi had largely ignored you for the rest of the trek, though he’d only cut his eyes back to you to ask a single question. 

“Where did you get that cloak?”

You fingered the heavy edge of the ruby wool that your grandmother had fastened snug around your shoulders, its thick folds providing you protection against the biting chill of the autumn wind. “It is an heirloom. My grandmother said it would keep me safe.” 

The Huntsman hummed quietly to himself. “That is one word for it, I suppose.” 

“How do you mean?” 

Sanemi slowed his pace so that you could catch up and walk beside him as he spoke. 

“That cloak is enchanted. Have you not noticed the strange stitching along the hood?” 

Your hands flew to grip the edge of the hood drawn over your head. Sure enough, beneath the pads of your fingertips, you could feel the odd swirls of thread forming some indiscernible shapes along the outermost portion of the cape’s top. 

“I’d not; this was not my cloak to begin with. It was my Grandmother’s.” You did not know why the Huntsman’s tone made you feel self-conscious, as though you’d been too stupid to notice such an obvious variation in the cape snugly fastened around you. It wasn’t as though you’d been afforded a great deal to time to look over it, in those hurried moments before Grandmother had shoved you through her front door and into the Wood beyond. 

Sanemi only shrugged as he continued on ahead, putting distance between you once more, but he called back one final time. “Red is a symbol for many things, girl. I hope your Grandmother at least warned you of that.”

----

Sanemi's cabin was small, but homely. You'd been waiting uneasily near the unlit fireplace at the center of the single-room cabin, unsure whether it would be considered ill-mannered for you to drape yourself across one of the overstuffed armchairs pointed towards the hearth, as the Huntsman milled about, gathering various supplies.

"Have you any preference for which village I take you to?" He called as he rifled through a sparsely-stocked cabinet, scooping up dried provisions into a small leather pouch.

You shook your head. "No, I wish only to get as far away from the Wood as possible."

Sanemi nodded, stalking past you to open another cupboard. Glinting against the dimming light outside, you saw the curved blade of an axe, sharp and polished.

"I can make do with that," the Huntsman said simply. "Though should we run into any weather, it may take longer than three days to reach the other side of the Wood."

You picked nervously at your nails. Any response you could have given him was cut off by the faint cacophany of voices somewhere in the distance.

Brow furrowed, Sanemi crossed the floor of his cabin to a small window and squinted through the fogged glass. Over his shoulder, you could spy the faint glow of fire making its way towards the cabin.

Torches.

You did not need to guess whose torches they were; there was only one reason for a band of men to be in the Netherwood at this hour.

"It's them," you whispered in horror, your heart sinking to your stomach. "The man who is after me -- they're his -- followers. I hesitate to call them men."

Sanemi's eyes narrowed as he glanced back out the window, and you swore you saw his nostrils flare, as though scenting the air.

He gripped you by your forearm, tugging you further into his cabin. “We don’t have much time until they come knocking. I think I can hold them off — but you have to trust me.” 

You looked over the wild man, from the thick, silvery scars seared into the rippled muscles of his forearms to the thinner, more delicate scars which crossed half his face, swallowing down any fear you’d had of the huntsman upon first stumbling upon him by the river. 

You’d been scared of him, but you feared the fate awaiting you at the hands of Douma and his cronies far more; and so, you were desperate enough to place your life in Sanemi’s rough, calloused hands. 

“I trust you,” you vowed, though your voice trembled slightly. “Please just don’t let them take me.”

Something in Sanemi’s eyes tightened as he looked over you, but he nodded, hands reaching for the small pouch strapped to his upper thigh. 

“I’m sure you’re going to protest what I’m about to do,” he said quickly, producing a small hunting knife from the pocket. “But I need you to believe me when I say this is the only way.” 

“Take off your cloak.” Sanemi ordered, standing tall before you, hand out in waiting. 

Your hands flew hesitantly to the metal clasp resting just below the hollow of your throat. “But my grandmother said —“ 

“I know what your grandmother said, girl, but I’m telling you, that cloak will do you no good indoors. It is only effective out in the Wood.” 

You could tell the huntsman’s patience was wearing thin, but still, you hesitated. 

Sanemi huffed impatiently. “I swear to you I will return it the moment they leave, but you must remove it now. They will use it to track your scent.” 

You shuddered as your fingers quickly freed the small latch, and the crimson wool draped around your shoulders loosened. With some hesitancy, you held your cloak out to the huntsman, who balled the fabric up tight before crossing the floor of his cabin, shoving it into a small armoire and behind several hung pelts and well-worn leathers. 

Sanemi was before you once more before you could blink. “Turn around,” he ordered, twirling the knife in his hand to motion you to spin and put your back to him. 

You complied without protest, hands twiddling nervously before you, until you heard the unmistakeable sound of fabric tearing at your back. 

The corset worn over the cotton layers of your dress loosened and fell to the cabin floor, it’s ribboned ties neatly severed where they’d been laced at your back. 

“What in the devil —,” you began hotly, arms jumping to cross over your unsupported chest as you twisted to glare at the huntsman. 

A warm hand firmly pushed your shoulder, keeping you facing forward. “Hold still, woman,” Sanemi barked, and the heat at your back disappeared for a moment as you felt him kneel behind you. 

To your horror, you felt the outermost layer of your dress lift up and away from you as Sanemi rose, bringing the garment up over your head. 

“I asked you to help me, you dog!” You squealed, your attempts to squirm away from the mannerless huntsman at your back futile. “Not strip me bare to do with as you please!” 

Behind you, Sanemi gave a great snort. “Helpin’ you is exactly what I’m doing, if you’d shut up for one second.” 

Left in nothing but your thin, cotton shift, you silently wondered whether you should’ve taken your chances and continued your trek through the Wood. Surely, being eaten by one of the Netherwood’s more nefarious creatures of horror was preferable to being stripped nude by a half-wild brute in his isolated cabin. 

Your musings were cut short, however, as a firm hand wrapped around your forearm and tugged you towards the back of the cabin, where a small doorway closed off the hut’s only other room. 

Sanemi kicked the door open revealing a surprisingly large bed, draped in blankets made of the furs of several different animals. 

“N-no —mmph!” Your protest was cut off by Sanemi’s free hand as it clamped over your mouth as he hissed at you to shush. 

Over the sound of your thudding heart and hard breath as you planted against the huntsman’s palm, you heard the faint but unmistakable sound of male laughter and jeers, cruel and cold. 

“They will be here any moment,” Sanemi said lowly, and he removed the hand from your mouth in favor of shoving you none too gently into the small bedroom. Before you could speak, the huntsman gripped you around the waist and tossed you effortlessly onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly against the soft plush. 

“Get under the covers and lay face-down in the pillows. Let your hair cover you.” 

Scrambling up against the headboard, you looked back to your savior or your villain — you’d not yet decided under which category he fell — but saw that he was already standing back in the doorway, jaw tense and his eyes trained on the front door of his cabin. 

He glanced back to you only once. “And move that thing off to your shoulders. Make yourself appear as though you’re indecent.” 

With that, the huntsman quickly shut the door to his bedroom, just as a fist pounded against the wood of the door outside. 

You kicked your way under the many pelts adorning the bed, savoring their warmth against your chilled skin. Remembering Sanemi’s final warning, you tugged the sleeves of your shift off your shoulders, concealing it and the rest of your body below the soft fur blankets. 

The front door of the cabin opened, and you buried your face into one of the pillows resting against the headboard, begging the comforting scent of forest pine and cedar to calm your raging pulse. 

“How can I help you gentlemen this evening?” Sanemi called, and you almost laughed at how cordial he sounded, as though he hadn’t just cut your dress from you like a brute. 

Any smile you had was immediately wiped from your face at the cold, steely voice which answered him. “We’re searching for a woman. She belongs to someone who is eager to get her back.” 

You balled the pelts below you in your fists, teeth grinding. Of course, you’d never actually agreed to marrying Douma, and yet the beast felt entitled to claim ownership over you, as though you were no better than a piece of furniture. 

Though, you supposed that wasn’t quite an accurate comparison. Furniture survived Douma; women did not. 

“Is that so?” Sanemi’s hardened tone sent shivers down your spine, and you wondered whether his face matched the stony, scathing cadence of his voice. “Well unfortunately for you boys, it’s just me and the wife here. And you’ve interrupted us.” 

“Our apologies,” the scout said, though it did not sound as though he was sorry at all. “But you won’t mind us taking a peak? Just t make sure you and your wife don’t have a visitor.” 

Sanemi’s answering snarl was soft, but it did not conceal the deadly threat contained within. “Surely you understand why I cannot let a number of strange men into my home, while my wife is indisposed.” 

You had to give him credit; Sanemi sounded every bit the dominating, over-protective husband he was pretending to be. 

There was a beat before Sanemi sighed, his irritation almost convincing. “Make it quick. And do not enter the bedroom.” 

There was a shuffle of feet, heavy and booted, that crossed the threshold of the cabin, and the hair on your skin rose at the charge of violence which filled the air. Breath caught in your throat, you buried your face deeper into the huntsman’s mattress and prayed his ruse would be successful. 

The door to the bedroom banged open, startling you with a squeal as you ruched deeper below the pelts. 

“I told you to stay out of the bedroom,” Sanemi’s voice almost sounded bored, but it was thankfully close. Your eyes slid closed as you willed your heart to slow its drumbeat against your sternum as the resulting silence hung thick in the air. 

“Our apologies,” the apparent leader of Douma’s band of henchmen bit out, his tone acerbic, and his frustration evident. The bedroom door slammed shut once more, and the heavy footsteps quickly made their way back through the cabin and out the front door. 

All remained silent in the huntsman’s cabin for several, long moments, and you did not dare to rise from the bed that had become your sanctuary. 

After what felt like an eternity, the door to Sanemi’s sleeping chamber pushed open, the light from the main room of the cabin flooding in. 

“They are gone,” the huntsman said simply. “It is safe for you to come back out.” 

You turned over and rose from his bed, quickly tugging the sleeves of your thin shift back up over your bare shoulders, if not to preserve the last shred of your modesty that the huntsman before you hadn’t cut away. 

You were startled by his appearance in the doorway. Though his eyes remained fixed on the wood floor of the cabin, you saw that the man before you was nearly as stripped as you were. 

Somehow, in the few precious seconds between him throwing you onto his bed and Douma’s men barging through the cabin door, Sanemi had discarded his lined shirt, leaving everything from the waist-up bare. The only garment which remained on him were his deerskin breeches, and Sanemi had somehow undone its front laces, loosening their fit around his hips. Between the undone cords, you spied a thin trail of silver hair that begun just below his navel and disappeared below the seam of his pants.

It was admirable the dedication Sanemi had shown in perfecting your ruse. To the untrained eye, it truly looked as though Douma’s men had indeed interrupted a husband and his wife as they’d been engaged in acts you’d been told were reserved for the marital bed, the disheveled state of Sanemi’s breeches giving the distinct appearance of having been just barely tugged over naked hips. 

The thought made your mouth run dry, and something hot flared in your belly.

Sanemi ignored your apparent ogling of him, as he produced his discarded tunic from the floor where he'd tossed it and shrugged it back over his head.

Wordlessly, he gathered the shredded remains of your corset and handed it to you, keeping his gaze averted to allow you to redress. You managed to pull on your outer skirts back over your shirt, but you fingered the torn strap of your corset.

“You ruined it,” you said, nose wrinkling as you punched it between your thumb and index finger. “I cannot lace it when you’ve torn the stays.”

Sanemi frowned, and if you hadn’t known better, you would have thought he looked slightly apologetic for the state of your outer-corset.

“Corset woes aside, we need to go now, if we are to have any chance of getting you to another village before your fiancé’s men catch up to us.” Sanemi grabbed the leather satchel he'd been packing before Douma's men had interrupted and began filling it once more. 

You scowled. “He is not my fiancé,” 

“Your keeper, then.” Sanemi amended. The Huntsman stalked back over to the armoire in his sitting room and wrenched the worn doors open, pulling out several pieces of cloth.

“Here,” he said gruffly, tossing you a balled wad of crimson wool. “As promised.” 

You accepted the cloak with a small, uttered thanks, and fastened it quickly around your shoulders. The Huntsman then turned to dig through a small cabinet, returning before you with a small spool of sturdy, leather cord.

He held it out to you. “For your corset,” he said gruffly, his cheeks slightly pink. Feeling your own blush creep up your neck, you accepted the offering. Picking the torn garment up once more, you slid it over your shoulders and used Sanemi’s cords to lace the front together.

Truthfully, the finished product wasn’t half bad; the cord was long enough to cross all the way up to the top of the corset, with enough leftover to allow you to pull it and secure it in place around your bust. You tied off the cord with a pleased nod, before looking back to Sanemi in gratitude. Before you could properly thank him, the Huntsman thrust a small basket into your newly freed hand.

"Provisions. For the journey." He said by way of explanation, and you nodded, nestling the handle into the crook of your arm.

Without so much as a glance around the cabin, Sanemi wrenched the door open and allowed you to pass through the entryway first, pausing behind you only to tightly latch the door shut.

And the two of you set off into the Netherwood.

———

You were no time-keeper by any means, especially in a place like the Wood where daylight was hard enough to find; but it felt like hours had passed since you last spoke to the Huntsman, and the silence was pressing heavily upon you — especially the deeper you ventured into the dark of the Wood.

Though Sanemi had been walking ahead of you, you took it upon yourself to increase your pace, until you walked astride with him.

“How long have you been guiding others through the Netherwood?” You asked lightly, hoping that some — any — conversation you could have with the stoic woodsman would distract you from the odd growls and noises concealed within the forest’s shadows.

“A while.” Sanemi’s answer was as brisk as his pace, and you struggled to match it. 

“Have you lived here your whole life, or are you from one of the villages nearby?” You pressed, scanning your memory as you tried to recall whether there had ever been a boy with white hair and a scarred face in your village. 

“No.” 

You waited for him to elaborate, but Sanemi offered no further explanation. You sighed and fell back behind him; if this was to be his attitude the entire journey, you were in for a long few days. 

The pair of you had traveled for what felt like several more hours without a word before the silence began to irritate you. You sped up your pace until your stride matched the Huntsman’s, walking with him side by side. 

“Why do you live alone in the Netherwood?” You twirled the basket around your hand as the pair of you walked, the nerves you’d felt upon first starting the journey through the Wood having long since abated, in no short part due to the presence of the Huntsman and his axe by your side. 

Sanemi did not turn towards you, his eyes remaining fixed on the bramble ahead. “Why did you venture into the Wood alone?” 

You groaned. “Is this how our entire journey is to go? Either you give me mono-syllable answers, or every time I ask a question, you avoid answering by responding with your own?” 

“That depends, do you intend to keep asking me questions?”

You barely resisted the urge to whack the sullen Huntsman with your basket. “Unbelievable,” you grumbled. “Your time here in the Wood has turned you into a curmudgeonly hermit.” 

Sanemi snorted. “You assume I wasn’t  one to begin with.” 

“I can’t imagine someone who helps travelers cross the Wood was always so  churlish and miserable.” You shot back. 

The Huntsman remained quiet for a moment, though his air did not carry the same cold standoffishness that you’d come to understand meant he was ignoring you. Rather, Sanemi seemed to be in thought. 

“It has been nearly four years,” he said after a long while. “Since I began helping travelers cross the Wood.” 

Your eyes widened. “Four years?” That was an awfully long time to risk one’s neck for the sake of strangers — some of whom, you realized, may not have been all that good. 

Sanemi nodded and you whistled. “I’m sure you’ve seen many kinds of people attempting to traverse through the Wood.”

“There are only two types of travelers,” Sanemi disagreed. “Those who live to make it to my door, and those who do not. I try not to pry into the privacies of those who do manage to find me.” He cut his eyes at you, accusingly. “And usually, they aren’t so eager to pry into mine.”

You ignored the jab, though it bruised your ego more than you wanted to admit. “You don’t like people, yet you’ve crafted your entire existence around serving them.” You could not stop the amused edge in your words. “It is quite ironic, you have to admit.”

Sanemi refused to dignify you with a response, and so the first leg of your journey continued in relative silence.

The stifling quiet that extended between the Huntsman and you finally subsided once Sanemi announced you’d be stopping for the night and making camp. He’d been quick to notice your unease as you’d cast your eyes nervously around the shadowed trees of the Wood, assuring you that you all were in an area less-frequented by the various terrors that called the forest home.

“I will sit and keep watch,” Sanemi said as you’d curled up against the leaves of the forest floor, your red cloak pulled tight around your frame to block out the autumn night’s chill. “So try and sleep.”

“You are asking me to put a great deal of trust in you, Huntsman,” you said softly, but in truth, you did not feel nearly as afraid of him as you perhaps had earlier in the day.

He snorted, dismissively. “I’ve had you in my bed already, have I not? If I was going to harm you, girl, I would’ve already done so.”

Something tightened in his eyes as he dropped your gaze. “And I would never do such a thing to a woman.”

There was a quiet pain in his vow, such that you did not think his words were entirely meant for your ears. But they comforted you nonetheless, and so, still facing the handsome and mysterious Huntsman, you allowed yourself to relax enough to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

---

The journey was taking longer than Sanemi originally believed.

Three days into your travels with the Huntsman, and you’d barely reached the halfway point in the Wood. Though, that was not due to any fault of Sanemi’s; there’d been a few times when he’d stopped mid-stride, eyes narrowed on some unseen thing deep within the forest that you could not see, but concerned him enough to change course. When you asked, the Huntsman had only grumbled that he’d heard suspicious movement ahead, and that he knew whatever it was, it likely wasn’t human.

You didn’t bother to question his judgment. After all, it was Sanemi who was the expert in traversing through the Wood. You, however, had spent the better part of three days understanding how utterly helpless you were without him.

You hadn’t meant to stumble across it. 

You’d only meant to go relieve yourself behind a tree — a simple evergreen, that had looked innocent and unassuming enough. 

As you’d quickly learned, however, upon squatting near the tree’s base, it was anything but innocent. For no sooner had you moved to pull your skirts out of the way had you felt a spiny hand close around your forearm, its knife-sharp fingers digging into your flesh.

The withered, bony had was connected to a sinewy arm, covered in ridged, black skin that made up the panting, salivating bat-like creature that had managed to camouflage itself against the bark of the tree.

You’d taken one look at the rows of sharp, yellow teeth and screamed loud enough to startle the dead.

Loud enough to bring a certain Huntsman crashing through the brush, axe clutched tightly in hand, his eyes wild and bright.

“Duck,” he’d barked once, and somehow you’d managed to wrench yourself to the side of the devil as Sanemi’s weapon buried deep into the creature’s face, the beast releasing your arm and stumbling back with a pitiful gurgle before it dropped to the floor.

You’d hardly had the chance to collect yourself before the Huntsman was stomping over to you, yanking you up by your bicep and dragging you away from the nefarious little tree.

“A goddamned hidebehind,” he furiously spat. “Of all things to provoke, you choose a fucking hidebehind.”

Sanemi ignored your slight protests at being manhandled back to the path he’d identified as leading out of the Wood, too lost in his own raging assessment of you.

“How the devil a pretty little thing like you managed to make it to my door in one piece is the only thing that makes me consider there may be a higher power, given how foolishly reckless you act in the Woods where there’s no shortage of creatures that would want to devour you —“ 

The Huntsman continued his rant, but your ears only picked up on a single fragment of his ramblings.

“You think me pretty?” It was silly, yet the notion that the devilishly handsome Huntsman accompanying you found you worth looking at made something in your stomach flutter. 

Sanemi shot you a withering glare. “You may think me a miserable recluse, girl, but even I have eyes.”

You didn’t know why, but the comment made you smile for the rest of the night, a curious warmth blooming in your chest.

----

You settled for the night among a small circle of trees. Sanemi had helped you shake down a bed of pine needles from a nearby tree, allowing the fragrant nettles to form a soft bed for you against the forest floor.

You watched him repeat the process to make his own bed, your eyes curious. "You seem to have a great deal of experience with this," you mused.

Sanemi produced a single apple from his pouch and sliced it in half with a small hunting knife he kept strapped to his hip. He tossed you one half before he stretched out on his pine needle bed, propping up one cheek on his fist as he faced you. "I s'ppose sleeping outdoors is something of a family trait."

That piqued your curiosity. Though Sanemi had not divulged any details of his personal life with you, you'd assumed he'd been a true loner in his cabin in the Wood.

“You speak as though you still have family,” You bit into your half of the fruit, chewing slowly as you thought. “Do you?” 

Sanemi nodded. “No parents to speak of, but a younger brother — a few years younger than you. Still a boy, though in a man’s body.” He scowled. “The little brat has outgrown me.” 

You smiled at the obvious fondness belying the irritation on his face. “A boy bigger than you? I find that hard to believe.”

Your gentle praise had the intended effect of making the Huntsman look slightly smug, before the same sour look passed his face. “He has grown slightly taller than I, and by all accounts is still growing. I have a feeling he will try and hold it over my head the next time I see him.”

You wondered if Sanemi’s younger brother would literally do so, and the thought made you smile. 

“You said the next time you see him, but you’ve said you have no parents — where does he live, if not with you?” 

Sanemi grimaced, chucking the last of his apple core behind his shoulders. He remained quiet for a long moment before answering. 

“He lives with a friend; he can take better care of him than I can right now.” 

Something about the Huntsman’s tone made it clear the topic was a sensitive subject for the young Huntsman, and so you elected not to press the matter further.

“And what of you?” Sanemi said gruffly, surprising you with his willingness to engage in conversation as the two of you continued your trek. “I know you said you had a Grandmother, as she was the one to give you that.”

He nodded pointedly at your cloak, and you saw that curious heat enter his eyes once more at they combed over the scarlet wool draped around your frame. But the mention of your grandmother caused a lump to form in your throat that took you several moments to work around, the damning prickle of tears stinging your eyes. 

“I do,” you said hoarsely after a moment. “Though I do not know if she survived after helping me escape Douma. Even if she did, I know I shall never see her again.”

Though your vision had become blurred by your tears, you could have sworn you saw Sanemi’s hand twitched towards you at the sound of the wobble in your voice. 

“Douma,” he repeated. “Is that the person you’re fleeing from?” 

You nodded, exhaling a shaky sigh. “He claims to be my fiancé but I accepted no such proposal.” 

Sanemi leaned against the wood of a tree opposite from you, arms folding across his chest. “Then he does not know what it means to be a fiancé,”

You gave a watery chuckle. “No, I suppose he does not.” You chewed on your lip for a moment. “But Douma does not ask; he demands and he expects. His offer was not really a request for my hand — it was a warning that he would collect me to do with as he pleased.”

Sanemi tensed. “What do you mean by that?” 

You combed your fingers through the tangled tresses of your hair, and anxious habit you’d had for as long as you could remember. “In the last three years, Douma has taken four young women from the village to be his wife; every one of them has since disappeared.” 

The Huntsman sucked in a shocked breath. “What has happened to them? Has anyone searched?” 

You smiled ruefully. “I do not know; no one does. Search parties were dispensed each time, but those who looked came back empty-handed.” Your eyes remained fixed on the small, flickering flame of the campfire. “He claimed the first three ran away into the Wood; said they’d left him to be with a lover.” 

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, seeking comfort in your grandmother’s cloak. “Quite the coincidence, is it not?” 

“Quite nefarious,” Sanemi remarked darkly, shaking his head. “And what of the fourth wife?” 

Your head dropped. “My dear friend, Kotoha,” you felt the tears begin to gather in your eyes once more. “She was pregnant when Douma demanded her hand, but he did not appear to care. She gave birth a few months later — a beautiful baby boy named Inosuke.” 

“She seemed happy for a while after that, and I thought perhaps Douma had been telling the truth; by all accounts, he was kind towards her,” you continued, fighting the shiver trying to lick its way up your spine. “But then Kotoha disappeared, and Inosuke, too.” 

Sanemi stiffened at that. “When was this?” He asked suddenly, his tone urgent.

You looked up at him, startled. “Just a week before I found you.” 

Sanemi swore lowly, his hand dragging over his face. At your questioning look, he continued.

“A few days before we met, I was leaving to check on a series of caves that I frequent in the east,” he began. “I was half a kilometer from your village when I —,” he hesitated. “Spotted a few men, dragging something through the trees. They seemed to come from your village.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Did you see —?” Your question choked off as your voice cracked. 

Sanemi shook his head. “All that was left was a pile of bones. Just one person’s. But there were shreds of cloths mixed in,” Sanemi’s mouth twisted down in a snarl. “Clothes belonging to a young child. But no sign of their bones among the adult’s.” 

A cold, clammy sweat broke out across your forehead. “But Kotoha was hardly missing a week — surely that’s not enough time for her to be reduced to bones?” 

Sanemi opened his mouth but closed it before he spoke, his eyebrows knitting together as he struggled for words. 

“I have seen things in the Wood that are  capable of stripping flesh in a matter of minutes,” he said carefully, eyes trained on your face. “It would not be unheard of.” 

You felt the blood drain from your face as nausea wracked through you. “Oh gods,” you moaned, arms shakily coming to rest upon your knees to brace your head as it fell into your hands. “Oh gods — Kotoha.” 

You remained like that for several moments, viciously fighting against the roiling of your stomach, desperate to keep down what meager rations you’d managed to eat. 

Sanemi called your name, soft and gentle. You waited a moment, focusing on taking several, steadying breaths before you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“So that is to be my fate once he catches me,” you whispered in horror. “To be reduced to nothing more than a pile of bones and tossed into the Wood like garbage.” You shuddered as another wave of nauseous dread sluiced through you. “And I cannot even fathom what will be done to me before then.” 

“It will not,” Sanemi’s answering snarl was soft but vicious, and it broke through the cold terror threatening to knock you off your axis. “I will get you out of this forest and you will be free. Mark my words.” 

“Do not make promises you cannot keep, Sanemi.” You warned, your eyes still wide, haunted. “If he catches me, he will do worse to you; death will be a kindness he will withhold.”

Despite the solemnity of your words, Sanemi only scoffed. “I assure you, he would do no such thing.” He looked to you, eyes serious. “And I would kill him before he had the chance to so much as look your direction.”

You wanted to dismiss his words as nothing more than the bragging of an overconfident, idiotic man. But something in both Sanemi’s tone and the way he was leaning against the tree — one foot resting causally against the bark, the other stretched out before him, supporting his weight, with his arms folded across his chest — made you think perhaps Sanemi’s confidence was more than mere bravado. 

Even though you knew you shouldn't, you took comfort in it; in him.

"You're a good man, Sanemi," you said quietly. "Better than most."

Sanemi scoffed, shaking his head, but the shadow over his face betrayed his own internal turmoil. "I am not half the man you'd like me to be."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, head tilting in question. “Do you care what I think of you?” When the Huntsman did not answer, you pressed. “You worry that I think ill of you — why?”

Sanemi, at best, was confusing. Maddening. He spoke to you gruffly, as though his years in the Wood had made him forget all semblance of decorum and basic human decency.

Yet, there was something else, too; though you hadn’t much experience being desired by men, Sanemi had shown you a particular level of care. He always handed you your dried rations first, ensuring you’d eat your fill before he; he always offered a hand to help you over a particularly tricky stretch of terrain, carrying your basket for you without so much as you having to ask. 

Then, there’d been the way he’d cradled you close earlier in the day, when you stumbled upon the poor man whose body had been mangled and half-eaten by one of the Wood’s inhabitants. He hadn’t needed to tuck your head against his chest like he did, holding you tight as he spun the two of you out of range, to avoid joining the lost soul whose entrails were strewn across the forest floor; he hadn’t needed to comfort you and wipe your frightened tears.

But he had. 

The realization hit you like a boulder. “You feel protective of me,” you murmured in awe, your eyes locked onto him even as he shifted under the weight of your stare. 

Sanemi tried to scowl, but it came off as more a wince. “I feel protective towards any woman who is being treated as something to abuse. What your fake-fiancé has done is abhorrent.”

His voice quieted. “You do not deserve that fate. You deserve to find something good — something that will make you happy.”

You hummed, pretending you were in thought as you began to slowly close the distance between you. “I would like to be happy,” you conceded. 

“You should be,” Sanemi answered. 

“I have felt happy here in the Wood,” you continued. “Have you, Huntsman? Felt happy here in the Netherwood, I mean?”

Sanemi swallowed hard. “Perhaps.” 

You took another step. “Recently?”

“Recent enough,” Sanemi watched you warily, his voice like gravel. 

You clicked your tongue. “Have you enjoyed our time together? However brief?” 

At this, Sanemi rolled his eyes. “You have certainly kept things interesting, when you’re not desperately trying to become a meal for some hungry beast.” 

When you did not answer, Sanemi looked nervously back to you, and his voice softened. “Yes. I have enjoyed it.”

You felt like you were stripping him back, peeling back layers of sarcasm and steel that he’d carefully erected to keep himself from getting close — from caring.

But you were doing it; and he was letting you.

“And you think I’m pretty,” you added, taking another step towards him.

“Aye,” Sanemi croaked, his eyes fixed on your face, the the flicker of the small fire only adding to the heat blazing in his lilac gaze. 

You drew up before him, the toes of your boots just touching his. “I find you quite pretty as well, Huntsman.” 

Sanemi’s eyes closed, his shoulders tense. “I am to deliver you safely to the nearest village.” Lilac irises opened to meet yours and he looked at you gently; apologetically. “We cannot do this.” 

You did not balk. “And if I wanted to stay with you?” You whispered, fingers coming to toy with the folds of his tunic. “What would you say then?” 

Sanemi breathed out a soft sigh of your name, the syllables dripping like honey from his lips. “It is not possible, I’m afraid.” 

You looked up at him through lowered eyelashes and noted how his gaze flicked down to your lips before back to your eyes. “Why?” 

Sanemi’s hand gently brushed a few loose strands of hair back from your face, tucking them behind your ear, and you leaned into the warmth of his touch. “Because you are a beautiful, little lamb, and I am a wolf in a forest of beasts. You do not wish to spend your days here, in the darkness.” 

“You cannot speak to what I want,” you challenged, your fingers rising to clench around his wrist, to hold his hand in place against the side of your head. “My life is my own now; I have no set path.”

“But I would like to travel down yours,” you added quietly, after a moment. 

“It is not one open to transients,” Sanemi warned, though his other hand rose to rest against the dip in your waist, holding you against him.

You only shook your head. “I do not intend to be temporary, Sanemi. I wish to stay with you. I wish to help others as you have helped me.” 

“I’ve yet to help you,” Sanemi said wryly. “Our bargain was that I deliver you to one of the villages on the other side of the Wood. We are still making that journey.”

You stretched up on your toes and boldly pressed your lips against the hollow of his throat, savoring the skipping pace of his heart beneath your mouth. 

“A new bargain, then,” you offered. Sanemi said your name once, as though in warning, but when he did not levy any threat, you only continued, moving your lips up under his jaw.

“You get me to the other side of the Wood. If I still want to stay with you, then you will let me. If I don’t, we will part ways at the first village we come to.”

You’d kissed your way to his lips, but held back, allowing that final line to remain in place between you even as your resolve wavered against the force of your desire for him — for this Huntsman of the Netherwood. 

Sanemi’s eyes fell to your lips, hovering so very closely to his own. “You assume I want you to stay,” he murmured, though he made no move to push you away. “You assume I want to look after a lamb forever.” 

You smiled softly. “Even a lamb can help take care of a wolf.”

Sanemi’s eyes were full of a wariness edged by the faintest trace of hope. “Aye, I suppose that’s true.” The hand against the side of your head fell to caress your cheek. “And as infuriating as I find you to be,” he leaned in close, his lips just barely touching yours. “I do think you quite beautiful, little Lamb.”

You surged forward with a breathy gasp, lips feverishly meeting his as you begged the Huntsman to consume you whole. 

Sanemi responded with equal fervor, his arm locking tightly around your waist as the hand against your face tilted your head slightly to the right, allowing him to deepen the kiss. 

You’d shared a few stolen kisses here and there in your youth with some of the village boys, but never before had you been kissed like this. Never before had you known the passion and all-consuming vigor that the Huntsman poured into you, as he walked the two of you back over roots and loose stones to press you against the roughened bark of a nearby tree. 

No, those kisses had been child’s play. For the way Sanemi’s mouth moved against yours was enough to make you feel as though you’d been dipped in lantern oil and set aflame, and yet you could not find it within yourself to care that you were burning. Not when he molded you against the rigid planes of his body as though to absorb you into his being; not when his thigh slotted between yours, its muscle brushing against a sensitive spot between your legs that had you gasping and Sanemi groaning into your mouth. 

As quickly as it began, it ended, Sanemi breaking away from your lips with a strangled pant as he leapt back, as though scalded by the inferno he’d lit within you. 

There was something untamed in his gaze as he regarded you, his breath choppy as he collected himself. Still stunned by the ferocity with which he’d kissed you, your fingers jumped to your lips, noting the slight swelling now there. 

“I was wrong about you,” Sanemi said breathlessly, his cheeks tinged an alluring shade of pink. “You may not be a lamb after all.” 

Your fingers dropped from your lips as you raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I am a wolf?” 

Sanemi shook his head, that wildness still blazing in his eyes. “No, not a wolf.” His voice dropped to a purr as he regarded you with a look that made your thighs clench. “You are temptation given physical form.” 

——-

 Neither of you spoke of what transpired against the tree for several hours, though you’d managed to brush aside any lingering awkwardness with light conversation about Sanemi’s time in the Netherwood.

And, despite any lingering doubt as to the sincerity of your words he may have had, Sanemi seemed to naturally gravitate towards you, his hands never straying far from your form as you walked. 

Truthfully, it made you giddy. You’d never experienced the thrill of another man’s touch while in the village, though Kotoha certainly hadn’t spared you any details. Vivid descriptions furtively whispered behind hands, however, were nothing compared to reality. Even Kotoha’s most blush-inducing tales paled in comparison to the electric flash you felt each time Sanemi’s warm hand gripped yours to steer you back from a particularly darkened corner of the woods, or the flutter in your stomach when he lifted you easily up and over unsteady ground, his hands always lingering for a spare second on your waist or the small of your back as you settled. 

It became harder to imagine leaving him once you reached the end of the Wood. With each passing hour, your conviction that you would remain alongside the mysterious Huntsman grew all the stronger. 

The pair of you were resting near a blackberry bush, you perched on a small boulder while Sanemi sharpened his axe, his hand running the small whetting stone against the curve of the blade with precision.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question broke the comfortable silence before you could think better of it.

Sanemi’s sharpening stone paused briefly before continuing along the curve of his axe. “Once,” he said, gruffly.  “Though we were so young, I don’t know if you could properly call it that.” 

You sat up, your curiosity piqued. “Where are they now?” 

The Huntsman hesitated. “She is long-gone. Died here, in the Wood.” 

Your heart clenched. “I’m sorry. I cannot imagine that grief.”

Sanemi did not respond, instead refocusing his attention back to his blade. “It was around four years ago, now.” 

Four years ago. Around the time Sanemi  had begun escorting lost souls through the Netherwood.

“Have you been in the Wood since?” You asked gently, trying to focus on a loose thread handing from your cloak so that he would not feel pressured by your stare. 

Sanemi nodded. “I think,” he cleared his throat. “I think I started helping others as a way to honor her. She was kind that way.”

You smiled at that. “She sounds wonderful; and you do right by her memory.” 

The Huntsman said nothing more, his silence more contemplative as he finished sharpening his weapon. 

By the time the pair of you set back off on your path through the Wood, the morning fog had somewhat subsided, though it’s mist lingered in the denser sections of the forest. 

“Is it normal to not have encountered many of the Wood’s creatures?” You bit down on the shudder you felt at the memory of the partially-eaten corpse you’d encountered a few days prior. “I feel as though we only see the aftermath of the beasts, rather than the monsters themselves.” 

Sanemi smirked quietly to himself, though you did not know what he found amusing about your question. “I suppose that cloak is keeping them at bay, Lamb.” 

You rolled your eyes, knocking your shoulder playfully against his. “Perhaps they’re frightened of the big bad Huntsman,” 

“Perhaps. I’m quite scary.” 

Your hand found his. “Not at all. In fact, I find you quite —“

Your thought was cut off, however, as Sanemi tore his hand from yours to hold an arm out before you, stilling you. You’d traveled with the Huntsman long enough to know he was telling you to be quiet while he listened, his ears far more discerning amidst the silent noise of the forest than yours.

Only it was not silent; in the distance, you could hear raised voices, yelling, and the distinct howls of several hounds.

Your eyes found Sanemi’s, and you were certain yours were as wide as his, as your heart began to thunder against your chest. 

There was a strange melodic chant rising above the cluster of voices some distance through the trees, and you both turned back and strained to listen.

As the jeering voices and barking of dogs drew nearer, it became clearer what was being said — what thing those voices were loudly whooping and mocking amidst the excited titter undercutting their bloodlust.

Your name.

Douma’s men had picked up your trail, and they’d caught up.

“Run.” Sanemi ordered, tearing the leather satchel from his shoulders and looping the strap around yours. “Do you remember which direction north is?” 

Eyes wide and limbs trembling, you nodded, your breath hitched in your throat as every instinct within you was overtaken by sheer terror. Sanemi placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing firmly to get your attention back on him. 

“Run north,” he repeated. “Follow the river and do not stop. It is against the wind, so it should be harder to track your scent,” Sanemi’s eyes darted up over your shoulder, narrowing as the unseen force drew nearer. “I will catch up to you. Do not drop that satchel.” 

Your mouth opened and closed several times as you gaped at him, fear, so deep and primal, engrained in your every nerve as you realized he intended to send you deeper into the Netherwood. Alone. 

“I cannot — Sanemi,” you begged, your hand gripping his forearm in a desperate attempt to stay close to him, your protector. 

Gently, Sanemi removed your hand from him. “Y/N, I promise I will find you soon. I need to get them,” he jerkily nodded backwards to the voices and dog howls drawing closer and closer to you in the distance. “Off our trail. 

You shook your head, only trembling harder. To separate surely would mean one, if not both of you would die, and you could not bear to leave him to deal with the onslaught of Douma’s men alone. 

“I promise,” you’d not realized Sanemi’s hands had cupped your face until you felt the press of his forehead against yours. “I will find you. Now go.” He urged, and with a slight shove, Sanemi sent you stumbling in the direction you assumed was North. 

With a great deal of reluctance, your legs began to move as you hurried over fallen branches and twisted roots, every pump of your legs growing stronger as your fear intensified. 

You hadn’t known how many men were in pursuit of you, and you’d left Sanemi alone with only an axe to protect himself. 

You’d as good as doomed him. 

But you kept running in the direction you thought was north, eyes frantically trying to track the watery sunlight filtering through the trees. 

The moment you’d chances scanning for the sun meant you did not see the thick, twisting root that had broken across the forest floor, not until your foot became entangled and you were sent sprawling across the dirt. 

Moaning slightly, you scrambled up, refusing to acknowledge the faint bruising pain you felt in your ankle as you moved to keep running. 

A snap of a tree branch froze you in your tracks. As stupid as you were, you turned towards the source of the sound, dread coiling in your gut. A shadow emerged from behind one of the ancient trees of the Wood, clutching something shiny.

A sword; long, wicked and cruelly sharp, and yet somehow, the blade frightened you far less than its wielder, for his face was familiar.

You’d grown up alongside it, after all.

“Well, well,” the boy — man — cooed at you. “We’ve been looking for you for quite sometime, you know?”

You took a step back, eager to put whatever distance you could between yourself and the smirking village boy who looked at you like you were his next meal. 

“K-Kaigaku,” you stuttered in disbelief. “What are you doing? We were — we were friends.”

The boy’s laugh made your blood curdle. “Don’t mock me,” he shifted his sword to rest against his other shoulder as his free hand twirled a small dagger. “I only align myself with the strong, and you are nothing but a weak and pathetic little mouse.” 

“But Lord Douma,” Kaigaku mused, his grin offset by the malice alighting his eyes. “Lord Douma is strong; powerful. I am loyal to him, not you.” 

“Lord Douma?” You repeated, your voice as sharp as the blade glinting in the faint daylight as the boy before you tilted it back and forth. “Is that what he’s told you to call him? What, pray tell, is he lord of — being an egomaniacal, fatuous, greedy murderer?” 

Kaigaku’s smirk unfurled into an ugly sneer as he shifted to point his sword at you. “Watch your mouth, girl.” 

“And what of Kotoha?” You demanded, your anger an untamable fire that burned in your veins. “You were sweet on her once — did she deserve her fate?”

There was no sign of that fondness in the cruelty which lined Kaigaku’s face as he spat, “She spread her legs for some man like a whore and bore his bastard. Lord Douma only made sure she met an end befitting of her filth.” 

“You vile, wretched creature,” you swore. “Damn you! Damn him!” 

That hair-raising smirk reappeared as Kaigaku stepped towards you. “I cannot wait to see what Lord Douma has planned for you. You should’ve seen what he did to your beloved Granny, the hag.”

Your blood turned cold and a stone like lead settled in the pit of your stomach. You’d assumed, of course, that your grandmother had paid with her life in helping you escape, but you could not bear to hear the ways she’d suffered in exchange for your life. 

Somewhere, in the depths of the Netherwood, a wolf howled. 

“Shall I tell you all about it, Y/N?” Kaigaku taunted. “Shall I tell you how your dear Granny screamed as Lord Douma flayed her alive, piece by piece? How she sobbed for your grandfather? For you?” 

Tears burned, as hot as acid in your eyes as you shook. “Stop,”

“It was quite pathetic, really,” Kaigaku sighed. “She went rather quickly. I suppose that’s what happens when you play with old crones — their pathetic little hearts can’t withstand the fun.” 

You were at a loss; part of you wanted to lunge for the boy, to sink your nails into his eyes and rip, to tear him limb from limb as you screamed with rage until even the beasts of the Netherwood could not tell whether you were human or kin. 

But on the other hand, you were just a woman, who’d spent the last five days in the Netherwood and didn’t have so much as a dagger with which to defend yourself. 

And Sanemi told you to run.

You remembered as a boy, Kaigaku had been slow; always the last person to finish a race or outrun the seeker in hide and seek. 

You, on the other hand, had always been faster; you could outrun him.

You had to. You would.

There was a roaring in your head as your mind disconnected from your body and you turned to flee. 

“Don’t you run from me, bitch!” Kaigaku thundered after you, but you did not slow; you hurtled over root and rubble, adrenaline pumping hot and fast to your legs as you ran. 

You’d thought, for one blissful moment, that perhaps you had a chance of evading him, when a silent whirring cut through the silent forest air. 

Pain, blinding pain, exploded somewhere from the side of your thigh, bringing you to your knees as you cried out. Rolling over, your stomach dropped at the unmistakable sensation of blood dripping down your leg, hot and fast. 

Behind you, you heard the thud of Kaigaku’s knife cluttering to the forest floor. 

“Hn, I missed,” the boy scoffed, eyes roaming over you as you bled. “No matter, you can’t run on a wounded leg, can you little girl?” 

Ignoring the dizzying lash of pain that flared in your leg, you scrambled backwards in a crawl, desperate to put some — any — distance between you and your captor. 

“Lord Douma only said to bring you back alive,” Kaigaku hummed, drawing his sword once more. “He did not say to bring you back unscathed.” 

Kaigaku put the tip of his blade right at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. You glared defiantly up at him, though your show of courage was a mere facade as you beheld the salacious glint reflected in his beady eyes. 

“I think I shall take my time with you,” Kaigaku decided, using his blade to tilt your head back and forth. “After all there is no one here who shall care if you scream; in fact, I prefer you do.” 

Your eyes widened, what remaining fight you still had wavering. 

Alone. You were completely and utterly alone. 

Sanemi had not come; either he was still fighting the other men sent by your cursed fiancé, or he’d been slain, and now the others were making their way to you, to take you back to Douma and let him do as he pleased. 

You were going to die; but you would not die by his hands. Your eyes lowered to the blade still pressed under your chin, its tip grazing against the delicate skin of your throat, teasingly.

Kaigaku’s blade was sharp, even if it’s wielder not; it would not take much effort to slit your own throat on its edge, and it would take even less to bleed out upon the Netherwood’s earthen floor. 

Before you could move, however, Kaigaku’s sword lowered, its tip teasingly tracing along the front seams of your dress. 

“Perhaps we could make this interesting,” Kaigaku smirked, tracing up the valley between your breasts. “He said only to ensure you were untainted for him; he did not say we couldn’t have a taste.” 

Your stomach churned with a toxic mixture of both rage and dread as the sword cut through the first stitch of your bodice. You tried to gather your feet beneath you, enough so that you could launch yourself forward and impale yourself on his blade, when a low growl sounded from behind your assailant.

Kaigaku, too enthralled by his slow torture of you, did not see the mass of white fur and bloodstained teeth leap from the shadows of the Wood; not until it was too late. 

You looked on in horror as a large beast lunged for the boy from your village, tackling him to the side, his sword arm severed at his shoulder from a single swipe of the monster’s mighty claw. Kaigaku only had time to scream once before the nightmare’s massive maw clamped around his neck and tore, spraying his blood and bits of gore across the forest floor. 

Your breath caught and died in your throat, helpless from where you were still splayed pathetically across the dirt as you watched the animal paint the Netherwood with remnants of Kaigaku. 

The monster turned on its haunches towards you, its maw dripping with blood and bits of sinew and flesh, its lip curled back in a snarl. You whimpered as the creature’s silver-lilac eyes settled on you, every inch trembling in abject terror. 

Though overcome by your fear, your brain was able to put together the sight before you that was sure to be your last. The beast slowly advancing towards you was a wolf, though it was much larger than any wolf you’d ever seen, and its brawn rivaled that of an ox’s. 

The wolf boasted a thick coating of silvery-white fur that seemed to glow, as though it bore the essence of a full moon, though its brilliance was dampened somewhat by the smears of crimson saturating it. Under the dim light of the forest, you could not tell whether the blood was that of the wolf or another. 

One colossal paw stepped hesitantly toward you again, and you felt yourself nearly go faint. Weakly, you tried to scramble back further into the wood, but your left leg had gone slightly numb from its wound, and the blood loss was starting to make you feel dizzy. 

It seemed the Netherwood had answered your silent plea to not be sent back to be killed by Douma; instead, you would serve as the next meal for one of its monstrous residents. 

The wolf drew short of you and watched you closely for a moment. With a great shudder, the wolf began to tremble and shake, and your horror melted into wide-eyed disbelief as you watched the wolf shrink and contort until all that was left was a man, blood-stained, naked, and panting on his hands and knees, fingers dug deeply into the dirt below. The man convulsed as began heaving up bile stained with blood and gore.

The sight of scarred forearms and snowy-white hair broke you out into a cold sweat. 

“S-Sanemi?” You croaked, equal parts relieved and terrified, even if another part of you desperately hoped that you were simply hallucinating the image of the nude man wretching up blood before you.

“Aye,” Sanemi grit out between great, shuddering breaths as he spat one final time at the dirt. “It is me.”

He rose, bloodied and naked, from the forest floor and looked to you, his eyes back to their familiar, lavender hue, though they still retained an otherworldly glow. 

There was a loud ringing in your ears as you stared at him, though you weren’t sure if it was from your panic or your blood loss. Sanemi took a cautious step towards you and it sent you scurrying back, a whimper of fright building in your throat.

He faltered, something like pain crossing his face. “Perhaps you should be afraid,” he said quietly. “And you can be — but I need you to throw me that satchel.”

It took you a moment to recollect yourself long enough to register what he was asking. With shaky hands, you unlatched the leather bag from your shoulders and weakly tossed it towards the Huntsman. 

Sanemi was quiet as he dug through the bag, producing a fresh pair of breeches and a clean tunic. With a deftness that seemed as supernatural as his wolf form, Sanemi dressed, concealing his muscular, scarred form from sight once more. 

He said your name once, quietly. “Are you alright?” 

You trembled, hand clutching weakly at the front clasp of your cape. “He killed my grandmother,” you whispered. “H-he tortured her.”

Sanemi approached you slowly, and when you did not flinch away from him once more, he knelt down beside you. His hand came up to gently stroke your hair, and the touch startled you out of your trance, blinking back fat tears as you looked up at him. 

“We need to go,” he said gently and you closed your eyes, nodding.

You’d known, of course, that your Grandmother had been killed; made peace with it, even. But you had not foreseen that she would be tortured for trying to secure your freedom, and the very thought made something inside your heart wither and die. 

“I know,” you murmured quietly. Sanemi straightened, extending a hand to you to help you up when your fingers closed around his wrist, your eyes urgent.

“Did you kill them?” 

Sanemi grimaced. “Yes, Lamb. I killed them all.” 

You nodded. “Good.” You released his wrist and slid your hand into his. “Good.”

Your shock had dulled the sharp, burning throb in your leg while you’d processed the fact that Sanemi was not a mere huntsman, but a wolf of the Wood. But now that the shock had worn off, the pain slammed back into you with full force as you tried to stand, your leg collapsing uselessly under you as you cried out. 

Sanemi’s nostrils flared and there was a murderous glint in his eyes as he crouched down beside you, eyes locked onto your left side, fingers clenching around the torn folds of your dress and lifting it up. 

“S-Sanemi!” You squeaked, batting his hand away but no to avail. The huntsman — the wolf — managed to pull back the skirts of your dress to reveal the torn flesh of your thigh. 

“Was it him?” Sanemi’s voice was low, his head jerking back over his shoulder in the vague direction where he’d left Kaigaku in pieces. 

You nodded, eyes wide as you watched him inspect the wound. “A knife. He threw it.” 

The huntsman exhaled harshly through his nose. “We’re too vulnerable in the open like this — especially because you’re bleeding.” 

Sanemi sat back on his haunches and pulled his small hunting knife from the leather satchel strewn on the ground. Silently, he leaned forward and wound some of the bottom fabric of your dress around the blade and wrenched, tearing a sizeable scrap cloth from the skirt in one clean stroke. 

Sanemi then reached under your skirt and tugged the shorter end of your linen shift down. “It’s not ideal but it’s cleaner than your outer skirt,” he said by way of explanation at your raised eyebrows and hitched breath. “It’ll do until I can get you somewhere safer. We’re sitting ducks out here. Your scent is bound to attract something.” 

You nodded, gulping. Words were still far too difficult to come by, so you settled for watching your handsome guide as he worked, mouth set in a firm, hard line. 

Sanemi tore another strip of linen from your shift and laid it delicately over his knee. His eyes flicked to yours, once, and you felt slightly ashamed at the way your breath hitched, as though waiting for those lilac irises to bleed silver once more. 

“May I?” His hands were stilled above the exposed flesh of your shin, and you knew he’d need to lift more to bandage your thigh. You nodded after a moment, though your hesitation did not stem from any fear you held for the scarred man delicately sliding his hands up the length of your wounded leg; rather, the heat that crept up your neck came from the way goose flesh erupted over the skin beneath his roughened yet gentle touch. 

Sanemi’s fingers were steady as he gently guided your leg to the side, rotating it in his palm so that the gash was perpendicular to the forest floor. 

At the sight of your bloodied, torn flesh, Sanemi growled. “I should’ve made the little bastard suffer far more.” He said darkly, reaching into his satchel to pull a small skien of water to clean off the wound as much as possible. 

At the first splash of water against your ragged skin, you flinched, hissing through clenched teeth as the cold fluid chased away the spare bit of blood. For a moment, you could see that the cut left behind the blade was deeper than you’d thought, though not so much so that it required more than a good bandaging and perhaps some stitching.  

At least it had not been entirely flayed open. 

The hand Sanemi had braced on your knee to keep your leg steady rubbed soothingly at your skin as he repeated the motion once more, letting the water cleanse the wound once more. “Atta girl,” he praised softly. “It’s done. I just need to wrap it.” 

It amazed you that such a hardened, rough Huntsman — Wolf — had such a gentle touch. His hands were like feathers as he wound the clean strip of linen around your thigh, the only pressure stemming from the knot he’d fastened to keep it secure around your leg. Sanemi then wrapped the other torn fabric from your outer skirt around the makeshift bandage, knotting it in a similar fashion to the one beneath. 

“To keep the one below from becoming dirty,” he offered plainly at your raised eyebrow. “Can you stand?” 

Now that the adrenaline of yojr earlier encounter had worn off, the throb in your leg had become all the more pronounced. Teeth clenched, you gripped the Huntsman’s hands tightly as you rose from your seat on the tree stump, eyebrows furrowed in determination. Sanemi did not remove his hands from you, but kept them out and ready as you tentatively shifted your weight to test your wounded leg.

It was no good; the pain shot through you like an arrow and nearly buckled the knee on your good leg. With a cry of frustration, you  stumbled back against Sanemi, the Huntsman’s arm looping easily around your waist to help lower you back down against the stump upon which he’s sat you. 

“Damn it all,” you cursed, wincing at the angry throb in your leg. “It cannot bear weight.” 

Sanemi pursed his lips as he looked over you, considering. “Allow me,” he said after a moment, squatting down next to you, motioning for you to wrap your arm around his shoulders.

You hesitated; you were not scared of the Huntsman, even after witnessing his terrifying true form, but your apprehension lingered, a primal fear baked deep within your core that told you you should be scared of the predator beside you. That, mixed with your blood loss, made you pause, even though you’re traveled alongside the fearless Huntsman for nearly a week. 

And Sanemi noticed.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his arm locked steadily around your waist as he lifted you to your feet, your weight pressed against his chest.

You did not trust your words so you only nodded. Despite the remaining wariness you felt, you longed for his comfort more. You lifted your hand to cup the side of his jaw so you could tilt his face down, bringing his forehead against yours. 

Sanemi whispered your name and your eyes lifted up to meet the smoldering heat of his gaze. 

A knuckle brushed against the curve of your cheek. “Are you frightened of me now, little Lamb?” 

Your fingers gripped the collar of his tunic, a desperation wracking through you at the thought he might pull away and remove the steadying warmth of his arms from around your frame.  

“No. It is not you that frightens me; it is him.”

The arm around your waist tightened. “He will not get to you; I swear it. I will not allow him to lay a finger on you.” 

Your breath shuddered and your eyes squeezed tight. You felt the discomforting press of panic building in your lungs, threatening to choke the air from your throat until a warm finger curled under your chin, followed only by a rugged whisper of your name. 

You opened your eyes and there he was; the only person left alive who you could count on; who had proven, time and again, that your welfare mattered to him. Who treated you like you meant something.

You craved that feeling — craved him. 

“Kiss me, Sanemi.” You murmured, your lips separated by a breath. “Please.” 

Sanemi did not hesitate as he gently brought his lips against yours, the hand under your chin moving to cup the back of your head, holding you steady against him like he was the only real, solid thing in the world. 

Your hands, no longer shaking, unclenched from where they’d been locked around the collar of his tunic and slid behind his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. 

Sanemi sighed against your lips, allowing himself to get lost in the way they moved against his, just as you did. Against the solid rock of his body and under the spell of his soft mouth, it was easy to allow yourself to forget the danger that threatened to creep in from the shadows.  

Lost in your kiss, you made the mistake of trying to shift your weight from your good leg to the bad, causing both knees to buckle. At your small whimper of pain, Sanemi broke away.

“You’re too injured to walk,” He murmured against your lips. “So I shall carry you.” 

He broke away with a final peck, stepping back and reaching behind him to haul his tunic over his head. “Unless you would like to see all of me, little Lamb,” Sanemi’s smirk was devilish. “Then I suggest you close your eyes for a moment.”

The heat his words sparked in your veins dulled the throb of your wounded leg. “And if I desire to see you?” 

Sanemi only shrugged. “Then I suppose I shall have to put on a show.” 

The huntsman held your eyes as his hands went to the hastily tied laces of his breeches, tugging the strings open with ease. 

You fidgeted against the broken stump he’d perched you on, just as Sanemi shrugged down the soft suede of his breeches, revealing that damnable v-line that made your head spin. A few more inches lower, and there was his manhood, hanging thick and heavy between his muscular and scar-speckled thighs. 

He was a sight to behold. 

“Is this your first time seeing a man, Lamb?” Sanemi’s voice broke you out of the reverent trance you’d been in whilst admiring every rocky plane of his body. 

Your mouth had turned dryer than a summer drought, and so you only nodded your head, unable to tear your eyes from the immaculate form that made up the huntsman of the Netherwood. 

To your dismay, Sanemi stepped back from where you sat, again and again until he was several lengths back. You opened your mouth in protest, but he only shook his head. 

“Don’t want you to be too close, my sweet.” He called from a distance.

You frowned. “Too close for what —“

Your question was cut off by a small scream as Sanemi leapt forward, that silver fur exploding forth from him as a large wolf landed only feet from where he’d once stood. 

Now it was clear why he’d put such distance between you; had Sanemi been any closer when he shifted, one of those mighty claws embedded in his law — nearly as long as your hand — would have surely ripped you clean in half. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as Sanemi’s wolf form drew closer. Now, without the weight of terror and the pressing conviction that you were about to die, you allowed yourself to fully appreciate the wolf before you. 

His scars were still visible, though less so in contrast to his human form, his thick fur providing a fair degree of cover.  In this form, you could see that were you to stand, your head would barely reach his shoulder. 

Sanemi grunted as he crouched out, the puff of air from his considerable snout warming over your legs. He looked up at you expectantly, an amused twinkle in his wolffish eyes. 

You gaped at him. “You want me to ride you?” 

Another amused chuff. 

“And how, great and mighty wolf, do you suggest I climb onto your back with a half-severed leg?” You dramatized. “Shall I flop?” 

You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that the Wolf rolled his eyes. Sanemi pressed his large body against your good side, nudging you with his great shoulder to signal for you to grab his fur.

You took a handful of the silvery coat, surprised at its softness. “Do not bite me just because you think I pull too hard,” you warned, half serious, and Sanemi huffed in annoyance. 

Using the wolf as leverage, you heaved yourself up, Sanemi pressing steadily into your side as you found your footing against him. Slowly, and with less grace than you were willing to admit, you managed to climb atop Sanemi’s back, awkwardly swinging your injured leg over the opposite side.

Once settled, Sanemi rose beneath you, rising to his full height. Sat atop him, you were willing to bet he was taller than most horses back in the village. 

The great wolf sniffed at the air once before lowering himself into a crouch, and springing forth into the Wood.

————

Riding atop Sanemi had been the most exhilarating experience of your life. 

Though, you also could not recall the last time such a ride had left you more frightened, given that you’d spent a great deal of it crouched low against his neck, fearing that if you rose your head even a fraction of an inch, some low-hanging tree would embed itself in your face. 

You supposed you would have kept riding longer, had your stomach not given a great gurgle after an hour or so atop the wolf. With a growl that you thought sounded suspiciously like a laugh, Sanemi paused in a small clearing near a rocky, moss-covered cliff, disappearing behind the lip of the rock once he’d situated you upon a felled log.

A few moments later, human Sanemi emerged, re-dressed, but his face was severe.

“They will keep coming,” Sanemi’s frustration was clear as he shrugged the fresh tunic over his head, the delectable ridges of his abdomen and the alluring dip of his hips concealed from your sight once more. “So long as they can track your scent, they will keep pursuing you.” 

You did not need to ask to whom he referred; the very same fear had gnawed at you even despite the exhilaration of riding Sanemi’s wolf form.

Your appreciation of the huntsman’s physique stalled as fear bubbled again in your gut. “What can I do?” Your whisper was shaky and it made Sanemi pause, his hand twitching towards you. “I cannot change my scent in the middle of the damn Wood—“

“You can,” Sanemi said quickly, and to your surprise, the tips of his ears turned pink. “Or— rather, I can help.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Because you are a wolf? Should I call you that now, instead of ‘Huntsman,’ or ‘Sanemi?’”

“You can call me whatever you desire, so long as you allow me to protect you.” Sanemi retorted evenly.

You tried to keep your voice steady even as you blushed. “And how would you do that, Wolf?” 

There was a dark glint in Sanemi’s eyes at your new nickname for him. “A bite from a wolf can change your scent.”

You balked at him. “A bite?” 

“Aye,” the Huntsman said casually, as though he was merely discussing the weather. “It would leave a small mark, but that mark would alter your scent enough to make you harder to track.”

You thought for a moment, the blush on your cheeks deepening. “Where would you bite me?” 

It was Sanemi’s turn to turn pink. “Likely your neck,” he fidgeted with a stick he used to poke the dying campfire. 

You gulped. “Would you have to transform?” 

Sanemi’s small smile was handsome, even if it looked a little feral. “No, Lamb. I can stay in this form.” 

You watched your protector for a moment, weighing your options. “Come here, Sanemi.”

His eyes snapped to yours, a bottomless heat turning his lilac gaze molten. Slowly, with the grace of a predator silently stalking its prey, Sanemi made his way over to where you sat, drawing short once the tips of his boots grazed yours. 

“Do you swear it? It will keep them from being able to track me?” You asked, voice trembling slightly as you peered up at the Huntsman. 

He nodded, slowly. A hand reached out to caress your cheek, and your breath lodged in your throat as you found yourself leaning into his warmth. 

You managed to exhale around the lump that had formed in your throat. “Then I will allow it.”

Your heart skipped like a rabbit’s against your sternum as Sanemi leaned in close, the warmth of his breath chasing away the chill of the Wood’s air.

“So delicate,” Sanemi murmured, his nose skimming along the slope between your neck and shoulder. “So soft.”

“W-wolf?” Your voice was high, your hands trembling as they jumped to clutch at Sanemi’s forearms, nails digging into his skin in anticipation. “Will it hurt?”

He huffed a laugh against your skin, the gentle tickle of his warm air sending goosebumps along your exposed skin. “No, little Lamb,” his lips danced along your shoulder, back towards the sensitive spot connecting with your neck. “You will feel a prick and then you will feel warm.” 

You nodded, the ends of Sanemi’s cornsilk hair tickling your throat. “I’m ready. Bite me — please.”

Sanemi’s groan was followed by a cold, sharp sting that sunk into the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck that was quickly chased away by a soothing warmth. The huntsman’s mouth latched to your neck as he buried his teeth in you, his tongue stroking soothingly around where he now bit.

It felt like someone had poured warmed honey into your veins. It spread, thick and sweet from your neck throughout your body, making you feel like you’d sunk into a hot bath on a cold day. That warmth coiled in your belly and ignited something fluttery and pleasurable between your legs as you tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to the wolf caging you in against the tree.

Your submission evoked a low growl from his chest, deep and rumbling as Sanemi pressed harder into you, his hands bunching your dress at your sides as he continued to suck at your neck. The feeling of his body molded tightly against yours and the way his mouth worked at that delicate spot made you moan out, the sound finally jolting something within the huntsman as he gave you one final kick, before tearing himself away. 

“Dear gods, woman,” he heaved, breath coarse. “Are you trying to drive me wild?”

You flushed as you panted, staring at him with wide eyes. Whatever you’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that; you’d not foreseen that the act of Sanemi biting you could feel so intimate, could make you long for him to run his hands under your dress, to touch you in your most sacred places until you begged for him.

He was dangerous; it was thrilling.

“Kiss me again,” you breathed, and Sanemi obeyed, his mouth moving fervently against yours as his tongue caressed your lower lip. Sensing the silent request, you opened for him, and Sanemi’s tongue swept into your mouth, licking at yours as his teeth nipped along your lower lip. 

You thought he might devour you; you wanted to let him. 

But Sanemi suddenly pulled away from you as though he’d been burned, eyes wide and breath hard. 

You blinked in surprise. “Sanemi, what —,”

“We need to go,” he said firmly, his cheeks flushed red. At his sides, his hands curled tightly into fists.

—-

The rest of your journey was oddly strained. Despite having grown closer with enigmatic Huntsman over the last several days of your travels, you suddenly felt as though you’d been catapulted back to square one.

Though he still allowed you ride upon his back in wolf form, gone were the amused chuffs and snorts that he used to signal he was listening to your mindless chatter. Instead, the wolf below you remained tense, a cord pulled tight that was liable to snap at the drop of a hat.

As much as you wished it made you angry so that you could snipe at him, Sanemi’s sudden introversion stoked an uncomfortable self-consciousness within you, and you found yourself desperately grappling for an explanation.

Had you tasted badly, when he’d bit you? Did he suddenly no longer find himself drawn to you, now that your scent was different?

Or, even worse, had he realized that perhaps he did not want you to stay with him in the Wood after all, and was now attempting to put distance between you so that you would be more willing to leave him once you reached the edge of the forest?

The thought made your stomach clench painfully.

Sanemi’s distance did not abate even by the time he slowed to a stop for the night. He’d brought the two of you to a clearing in the Wood that bordered alongside a winding river, crested by a waterfall. Sanemi finally lowered himself to the pebbled ground of the riverbank, muscles twitching as though to hasten you along in sliding off him to balance yourself against a mid-sized boulder, before he stalked back towards the trees, his leather satchel in his mouth.

He avoided even your gaze as he stalked into the shallows of the river, spearing two fish with a sharpened stick he’d fashioned. Sanemi hadn’t so much as thrown a word your way as he’d started a small fire, apparently relying on dusk to conceal the small smoke billowing up.

Despite the coolness of the evening air, you noted Sanemi was sweating as he’d flung out the stick bearing your flame-cooked fish dinner towards you.

In accepting the spear, your fingers accidentally brushed against his and Sanemi recoiled — hard.

“What is wrong with you?” You snapped. “Why will you not touch me? Why do you flinch whenever I am near?”

“I do not,” Sanemi answered hotly through clenched teeth, though the muscle that ticked in his jaw betrayed his frustration. “Am I suddenly required to touch you?”

You folded your arms across your chest, eyes narrowed. “You certainly had no objection to it earlier — especially not when you threw me up against a tree.”

“Threw you —“ Sanemi choked off, his returning glare both indignant and enraged. “As I recall it was you who kissed me.”

“And as I recall, it was you who started doing that — that thing with your tongue,” you accused lamely, though any bite in your words was tempered by the blush creeping up your face.

Sanemi scoffed. “You cannot even speak of it without blushing like a little girl, and yet I am the one acting strange?” He leaned back on the piece of driftwood he’d claimed as his seat, arms folded across his chest, head turned pointedly away from you.

As you mulled over a number of insults to call the temperamental Huntsman sitting across front you, the last remnants of the sun faded from the night sky, and overhanging clouds briefly parted to reveal the moon — nearly full, its silvery glow illuminating the riverbank.

The moon’s rays reached where you and the Huntsman had set up camp when suddenly your hand jumped to your shoulder as you cried out.

Sanemi startled forward with a worried growl of your name. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You grit your teeth, fingers digging harshly into your shoulder as you winced. “Something is — is burning, but I do not know what.”

You were certain the only injury your sustained had been the wound to your thigh by Kaigaku’s knife. But you’d spent enough time in and around flame to know what a burn felt like, and it felt as though something had been branded into you, its throb almost crippling.

You cried out again and Sanemi quickly crossed the dirt and took you into his arms, though you felt him flinch as he did so. “Where?”

You gestured wildly to your shoulder, too distracted by the way his presence made the burn now pulse, sending lashes of heat throughout your body, though there was a maddening edge of pleasure blooming from every part of you that was pressed against him.

Sanemi’s fingers grasped the collar of your dress and wrenched it to the side, swearing softly as he beheld whatever it was he saw.

“What is it?” You managed to grind out, your fingers digging into the muscles of his forearms to keep him anchored to you, as though he were capable of keeping the flames licking at your skin at bay. “Kaigaku did not touch me there — at least, I don’t think —,”

“It was not that boy who did this,” Sanemi said severely, his finger gingerly caressing the spot where your neck met your shoulder. You moaned as his touch extinguished some of the burning fire which had ignited your skin, too lost in the temporary relief to note the way Sanemi’s hands tightened around you. “It was I.”

That stilled you. “What do you mean?” You turned your head, peering up at the Wolf with wide eyes. “From when you changed my scent?”

Sanemi, for once, looked discomforted. “I think —,” he swallowed once, avoiding your gaze as he stepped back. You almost cried out at the loss of his body against yours, as the burn returned once more.

“I think I marked you; but I-“ Sanemi stuttered, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he stared at the ground, his weight shifting uneasily from foot to foot. “But it shouldn’t be affecting you — not like this.”

“You marked me?” Your hand fluttered to the fleshy juncture between your shoulder and neck. You gasped as your fingers brushed against a curious raise in your skin that hadn’t been there before, the strange curvature burning a few degrees warmer than the area around it.

The huntsman’s eyes remained resolutely fixed on the ground of the forest. “I told you I would cover your scent.”

You stroked the the mark, fingers tracing the odd curve, like that of a crescent moon. “What does the mark mean?”

Sanemi hesitated.

“Wolf?”

“It is a mating mark.” Sanemi admitted after a long moment, hand jumping to his hair as he ran his fingers anxiously through his silvery-white locks.

A stunned breath blew past your lips, your eyes wide. “M-mating mark?” You repeated, hand freezing where the telling crescent was emblazoned upon your skin.

Sanemi looked equal parts apologetic and scared. “I swear, I did not know it would affect you — wolves have to accept the mating mark to feel it, so I did not think —.” He ran a frazzled hand through his hair, his anguish apparent. “I thought I would be the only one to feel its call. I swear it.”

In the back of your mind, it registered that the mark perhaps was the reason for Sanemi’s sudden change towards you, but the incessant burning you felt would not allow you to question him on it.

“What does this mean?” You cried out again as the mark surged, the pain reaching all the way down between your legs, making you gasp. “Are we — are we m-mated?”

Sanemi’s eyes flashed. “No,” his voice was firm, urgent. “You still have to accept the mark for us to be mated — that’s why I thought it was safe. It was supposed to change your scent enough for us to avoid those men.”

“I swear to you I do not plan on acting on it; I meant only to help protect you. I fully intend on escorting you to the nearest village, as promised, and then I will leave. That mark does not have to mean anything to you.”

You believed him. The slight panic in his eyes as you winced at the mark’s repetitive flare once more could not be faked. Furthermore, you knew Sanemi would have no reason to bind you to him; not when you’d already made it clear that you wanted to stay.

You still did.

Sanemi’s earlier words echoed in your mind. That mark does not have to mean anything to you.

“But it will mean something to you, yes?” You demanded, drawing yourself up tall even as you sat perched upon the driftwood. “The mark?”

Sanemi hesitated again. “Wolves only mark once.”

He did not offer any further explanation, nor did he need to; you understood well enough.

The Huntsman had marked you, knowing full well he’d never be able to claim another as his mate. He’d done that, knowing that if another came along that won his heart, he could not be with them completely — not in the way his nature would desire.

And he’d done it nonetheless; all for the sake of giving her a chance to escape Douma’s clutches and to be free.

He’d put you first.

You hadn’t doubted the sincerity of your offer to him earlier, but now, there was no way he’d get rid of you. You would not allow it.

“And what would you do if I said I accepted it — accepted the mating bond?” You asked, voice as soft as a feather.

Sanemi snorted, pulling away from you to busy himself with stoking the small campfire. “I would say that you are an innocent, little lamb who does not understand what it means to be claimed by a wolf.”

“I understand well enough,” you replied, indignant. “I know what it means for people to give into their carnal desires.”

“You know nothing, you’ve never even seen a man before today.” The huntsman shot back, tossing another piece of kindling into the small fire. “You have never laid with another, much less a wolf.”

“It cannot be all that different,” you pouted. “You appear before me man enough.”

Sanemi closed the gap between your bodies then, coming to sit beside you on the rock, fingers curling under your chin to tilt your head up.

His eyes glinted with a sudden predatory heat. “It is quite different, little lamb.” He murmured. “I may now stand before you a man, but I am very much still a wolf. I would not take you like an ordinary human.”

There it was again — that heat, so foreign and yet so enticing, flickered to life once more in the depths of your belly, and the urge to rub your thighs together suddenly became overwhelming. With bated breath, you watched as Sanemi’s nostrils flared softly, his pupils dilating as the grip under your chin tightened ever so slightly.

“Then how would you take me, wolf?” You whispered, eyes not wavering from his. “How would I accept the mating bond?”

Sanemi’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, opening only after a shaky exhale of his breath. “You would have to take my knot.”

Your gaze dropped to his lips, the warmth from your mark spreading across your skin along with the sudden urge to feel them move against your own. “Your knot?”

“My knot,” Sanemi repeated, “and that is precisely why I cannot mate you, little lamb.”

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, a movement Sanemi’s eyes followed, his tongue flicking out to wet his own lips.

You pressed your chest flush against his front, hands seeking out his in the dark. “And what if I wanted it?”

Sabemi groaned, fingers latching onto your waist, though whether he sought to push you away or keep you anchored in place, you could not say. “Christ, woman. One would almost think you enjoyed torturing this poor wolf.”

You leaned into him, head tilting as you sought the knowledge of his soft lips against yours. “Not torturing,” you whispered, a hair’s breath separating your mouth from his. “Willingly offering myself to him.”

Your lips brushed against his and Sanemi moaned, his hands reaching to snare in your hair as he moved his mouth desperately against yours, teeth nipping and sucking on your lower lip, like he was hungry to consume you. But before he could, your pulled your head back, breaking the kiss.

“Do it, wolf,” you whispered. “Take me. Claim me as your mate.”

Sanemi grabbed you by your jaw, cheeks squishing beneath his firm grip. “Do you know what that would mean?” His voice was rough, his eyes burning with his desire. “If I did, we would be bonded. Permanently. For life.”

He said it as if you had not guessed it to be true; as if you weren’t prepared.

You gazed up at him through your eyelashes, eyes round and full of the innocence he claimed he could not taint. “Would you have it be another?”

Sanemi took the bait, a feral growl tearing from his chest as he crushed your body against his.

“No,” he snarled, and his mouth descended upon yours once more, his hot tongue sweeping into your mouth to swallow your breathy gasp as you threaded your fingers through his soft, moon-kissed hair.

You moaned into his mouth, hands greedily roaming the rocky planes of his chest, nails scratching lightly along his skin.

“You will be the death of me,” the Huntsman breathed against your lips. “You truly want to accept the bond?”

You moaned, nodding vigorously as Sanemi trailed his lips across your jaw and down your neck, his hands beginning to roam up your sides, tugging you down with him against the boulder so that you straddled his sides.

“Very well,” he murmured. “But I will not claim you here,” Sanemi said gruffly against the delicate skin of your throat, lips pressed against where your pulse fluttered. “I cannot.”

You whined and ground your hips down against his thighs, savoring the way the steely firmness of them pressed against something between your legs that made you feel electric.

“I must take you to my den,” the huntsman clarified, pulling back slightly in spite of your small whine. “When wolves like me claim a mate, we…do not like to be disturbed.”

Sanemi’s fingered the front laces of the stay secured around your bust, slowly undoing the careful lacing as he spoke, though his eyes did not leave yours. “And because it will be a full moon when I mate you, I will go into heat. It will last a very long time.”

“How long?” You fought to keep your head from falling back as you watched Sanemi work, the warmth of his hands seeping through the cotton and linen layers of your dress, making your breasts pebble with every loosened tie of your corset.

Sanemi hummed as he leaned forward, tracing his lips over the exposed skin just below your collarbone as his fingers worked the last of your stays. “At least a day; perhaps two. Other wolves have claimed it lasts shorter when one has a mate, as opposed to having to weather it alone.”

The top swells of your breasts were exposed as Sanemi finally freed you from your outer corset, allowing it to fall to the ground beside you.

The huntsman skimmed his nose over the top of your shift where the tops of your soft mounds peaked over, letting his tongue peek out to follow the trail. The feeling of the hot wetness of his mouth made you fidget in his lap, a whine building in your throat, desperate to have him touch more.

“A-and will you — ah,” you moaned as Sanemi tugged the bodice of your dress and shift down your shoulders, exposing your peaked breasts to the night air. “Will y-you mate m-me the whole t-time — oh god, Sanemi,”

“I could get used to you saying my name like that,” The huntsman chuckled, bending to take one of your breasts fully in his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue over your stiffened nipple. The contact made the mark on your shoulder burn with a sensual heat that you felt shoot straight down between your legs, and you ground against his thigh, mewling for more.

Sanemi looked up at you as he swirled his tongue over the fleshy skin of your mound, his pupils blown wide. “Perhaps,” he muttered in response to your question, in between light sucks. “It depends on how well you take my knot, you sweet thing.”

You moaned again as Sanemi moved his mouth across the valley between your breasts, taking the other mound between his lips and teeth, his hand rising to keep the other warm. He suckled at you for a moment until you were a whimpering, trembling mess atop him, before he pulled off with a lewd pop!

“But no matter,” You shivered as Sanemi’s teeth grazed your ear. “I promise I will make you feel so good, little Lamb.”

“Why must we wait,” you asked impatiently. “I am ready to be your mate now — I promise I can take your knot right here.”

Sanemi snarled against your skin, but it was not in warning. Rather, your words seemed to stir something deep within him, as the bulge between his legs hardened even more, and the building friction between it and demanding ache in your core intensified.

Sanemi shifted your hips in his lap so the apex of your thighs was no longer pressed flush against his hardness.

“You, my flower, smell far too tempting for me to risk having you in such a vulnerable way in the middle of the damn Wood, without any cover.”

Sanemi, lips traipsed along your jaw as he hummed. “There are many creatures lurking in the shadows that would see my mating you as an opportunity to take a bite for themselves.”

You tugged on his hair, trying to get him to meet your eyes. “I thought my scent was alluring only to you?”

“You don’t just appeal to me, little Lamb,” Sanemi said pointedly. “You have a rare scent that attracts all sorts of creatures here in the Wood.”

“But it is different now?” You pondered, fidgeting in the Huntsman’s lap until the ridge of his thigh pressed against that spot between your legs that made you want to sing.

You hummed and used your grip in his hair as leverage to tilt his head to the side, your lips caressing down the side of Sanemi’s neck, savoring the faint, salty taste of him on your tongue as his fingers dug into your hips.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Your scent has changed, thanks to your mark.”

You pulled away from your assault on his neck to pout at him, lower lip jutting out in a way that made Sanemi’s eyes darken. “So I do not smell as good anymore? To you, that is?”

With a low growl, Sanemi stood, hands gripping under your thighs as he lifted you before he laid you out against the river stone. “Quite the opposite, Lamb,” he quipped, voice low and heady. “To me, there is no finer perfume. Your scent calls to me; it nearly sends me into a frenzy.”

You found yourself incapable of coherent thought — much less speech — as Sanemi’s hands slid up your legs, bunching the skirts of your dress with every inch of skin he passed over until you felt the night air delicately brushing the heat between your legs.

Your legs spread and supported between his grip and the smooth of the rock, Sanemi leaned forward and kissed you, his tongue sliding past your lips to lick teasingly at the roof of your mouth before he broke away, imprinting his kiss down your exposed torso.

You watched him, enthralled by the way your body seemed to come alive under his touch. Even in the dark of the Wood, you could make out the lilac swirls of Sanemi’s eyes as he watched you, noting every gasp and sigh he pulled from you as his hands and mouth explored the planes of your body.

“What curious eyes you have, Wolf.” Your breath was short, choppy as Sanemi’s lips descended past your breasts, caressing the soft of your belly.

“The better to see your pretty face, my sweet,” Sanemi murmured, pressing a sweet kiss right below your belly button, the fire within your gut leaping like oil in a hot pan.

“W-what — oh,” you moaned as you felt his lips press against your hip, the broad expanse of his hands smoothing down over your thighs, pushing the last of your skirts up, and allowing the searing heat of his hands to meet your untouched skin. “What large hands you have.”

“The better to feel you — to caress every inch of you,” Sanemi’s voice was husky as his fingers trailed up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, spreading them wider so he could kneel. One hand gripped the back of your knee and gently tugged your injured leg over his shoulder, so your foot rest against the middle of his back.

His hot breath danced teasingly along your inner thigh as Sanemi’s mouth drew closer an closer to where you ached for him, the night air cool as it licked at your tender, heated flesh.

The feel of his mouth drawing nearer to to the most intimate part of your body made you feel as though you’d been set alight. “Such soft lips you have, Wolf.”

Sanemi chuckled, the sound so dark and rich it sent a shiver up your spine. “The better to taste you with, little Lamb.”

Your breath hitched as you felt something warm and hot flatten against your folds and drag up, Sanemi groaning into you as he repeated the movement, again and again.

His tongue, you realized as a strangled cry fell from your lips, your head falling back against the creek stone. He was exploring you with his tongue.

“Sweet,” Sanemi groaned in between wet, sticky laps against your folds. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

Every nerve in your body felt as though it had been set alight, the mark between your shoulder and neck burning deliciously.

Sanemi’s tongue flattened against your core, his nose pressing sharply against the pearl between your legs as he rocked his face from side to side, smearing your juices all over his maw.

“O-oh gods,” you cried out, hips bucking against his ministrations.

Sanemi’s hot tongue circled your entrance once before dipping inside, his teeth grazing your most sensitive spot as he buried the wet appendage inside your core.

His name fell in a breathy scream from your lips as you bowed up off the creek rock, hands shooting to anchor themselves in his hair as Sanemi began moving his tongue in and out of your fluttering core, his nose bumping and pressing against that delicate pearl at the apex of your thighs as he moved.

“My gods,” Sanemi grunted into your folds. “You are heaven on earth.”

You bucked against him once more, though you could not tell whether you sought more of his tongue or whether your body was trying to squirm away, too overcome by the pleasurable sensations Sanemi bestowed upon you as he worked his mouth against you. It did not matter either way, however, for every time you twitched away from him, the Huntsman’s hot, silky mouth only followed you, your cunt this predator’s dinner.

And apparently, he enjoyed playing with his food.

The frequency of your moans increased as the sounds of Sanemi feasting between your legs grew louder and ever more lewd, his own sounds of pleasure muffled by the repeated wet smacks of his mouth against your dripping folds as he sucked you between his lips and teeth and continued fucking you with his tongue.

“S-Sanemi! Oh — oh gods,” you cried as something coiled tightly behind your navel, making your thighs clench around the Wolf’s head as he worked.

Sanemi only responded with another groan, his hand leaving the supple flesh of your inner thigh to stroke against your folds, making you buck all the more against the stone as his roughened fingers brushed delicately against the spot that made you see stars.

His tongue pulled out of you in favor of flicking the bead at the apex of your legs, his fingers moving to your entrance and deftly pushing in, the wetness leaking from your core ensuring that they slid in without much resistance.

You cried out then, utterly overwhelmed by the way Sanemi’s finger began to work inside you, curling and pumping and stroking along your innermost walls until your entire body vibrated below him.

The hand supporting your thigh over his shoulder tightened as Sanemi resumed his oral assault on that small nub above your entrance, sucking and licking at it until the only sound leaving your throat were feverish cries of his name, your hips involuntarily jerking against him. With each passing moment that Sanemi spent feasting between your legs, something began to mount behind your navel, like a coil being steadily wound tighter and tighter.

You thought it should concern you, this foreign feeling, but as that feeling intensified, so too did your desire to see what would happen when it — you — came undone.

You left one hand gripping harshly at the Wolf’s hair, in some pathetic attempt to keep his face locked against your core, and lifted the other to pinch and roll your breast. You jolted at the stimulation, feeling yourself grow even wetter despite the fervor with which Sanemi lapped and suckled at you.

This appeared to please him, as Sanemi’s free hand moved from your thought to grip at your hip, pressing you even closer to his face until you wondered whether he could breathe. If he could not, the Huntsman did not seem to mind; his groans and growls against your cunt only intensified.

Sanemi slid a second finger into you, and then a third, and the resulting stretch made you see stars, your toes curling in your boots.

That thing in your stomach seized even tighter and your entire body tensed, as though you were on a precipice merely awaiting a slight force to tip you over and sending you hurtling to the depths below.

Whatever was happening to you, the Wolf seemed to anticipate it; for the moment that tight coil within your belly unwound, Sanemi’s fingers pulled hurriedly out of your opening only to be replaced by his tongue, his teeth pressed against your pearl. He lapped up every drop of release that spilled forth, humming and growling as you rode his tongue through the waves of crippling pleasure coursing through you.

As you came down from your high with a breathy sigh of his name, Sanemi shuddered beneath you, a strangled groan lilting out from his mouth between lazy slurps at your cunt. Though your vision was hazy, you could see the faint whites of his eyes peeking through his lids as they rolled back into his head, his fingers tightening their grip on your thighs until it was painful, before releasing once more.

The mark on your neck burned but it was no longer in agony; instead, it felt warm, like a part of your body left too long in the summer sun. but the heat was not entirely unwelcome, especially as Sanemi untangled himself from you, allowing the chill of the late autumn wind to sweep in and lick at your exposed skin.

“That should hold us both over until tomorrow,” Sanemi said after a moment with a throaty chuckle. “Though I will be hard pressed to keep my hands off you, little Lamb.”

Sanemi’s hands eased your skirts back down over your legs. Once your nether region was covered, he helped you sit up, allowing you to cling to him for warmth as he refastened your stays and helped you lace your corset back up the front.

Gingerly, Sanemi brushed your hair back from the shoulder bearing his claim on you. You followed his line of sight, twisting slightly and saw what he did: the crescent-shaped mark, which had burned a violent lavender only minutes prior, had faded back to a pale silver, its ache apparently soothed for the time being.

Sanemi leaned forward and brushed his lips against your mark, his tongue flicking out to caress it as you felt that warmth flood your veins once more. With a moan, you tilted your head, exposing more of your neck again to him, begging him to repeat the action again and again, but Sanemi only drew back.

“Apologies, Lamb,” his eyes were dark once more, and his hands fidgeted at his sides. “Seeing that mark pulls at something within me.”

You allowed your hair to fall back over the crescent bite mark and in an instant, Sanemi’s eyes lightened and a sheepish grin spread across his face. “Wolves are territorial. Seeing your mark makes me want to claim you, even without regard to the danger surrounding us.”

You frowned for a moment. “Are you only drawn to me because you’ve marked me?”

Sanemi’s gaze softened. “I am drawn to you, you vexatious woman, because I find you brave, kind, and at times, even a little charming.”

His hand lifted to caress your cheek, tilting your head down to meet his for a gentle kiss. “The mark is only a physical manifestation of what I already feel towards you. It is simply a way to display our bond to the world.”

Sanemi’s face turned grave and the way he said your name was serious. “You do not have to accept the bond if you’ve changed your mind.”

You shook your head hurriedly. “I want the bond — I want you,” the sincerity of your words resonated with Sanemi, as he pulled your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses against your fingers. “This is all new to me; I just wanted to know you were sure.”

Sanemi’s soft laugh made your heart thrum, and a blush spread across your cheeks. “I am certain, Lamb, that I would not want anyone else to cause me stress apart from you.”

With a quick peck against your lips, Sanemi rose, stretching his arms high above his head. The moonlight, coupled with the residual flames of the small campfire allowed you to rake your eyes over his lithe form, appreciating every scar and swell of muscle dotting his mouthwatering physique.

But your eyes snagged on a dark stain that had spread across the front of Sanemi’s breeches. “What —?”

Sanemi did not look embarrassed, but he did turn away from you nonetheless. “I told you, Lamb,” he said causually as he dug through the satchel, pulling out a spare pair of pants. “The mark affects me far more than it affects you; at least, for now.”

“That is because of me?” Your eyes trailed his form in wonder, and the sight of the stain made your thighs clench together though you knew not why. “Is that — is that your pleasure?”

Sanemi’s lopsided grin widened, a faint snicker on his lips as he regarded you once more, spread out atop his own traveling cloak. “Yes, Lamb. It is my pleasure.”

You looked up at him, head slightly cocked in question. “But I did nothing to you — not like you did to me.”

Sanemi removed his soiled breeches and re-dressed before returning to your side. “You did not need to; as I said, the mark affects me more than you right now. My body knows I have marked you as my mate, and it is eager to make you mine.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in the words and sat up as he leaned against the small boulder, reaching up over his shoulders to tug his tunic up over his head.

“So it was only the mark?” You asked slowly, eyes dropping down to where you knew his manhood lay under his clothing. “The mark brought you pleasure?”

Warm fingers gripped gently under your chin, forcing you to look back up and meet his piercing stare.

“No, sweetling,” Sanemi said, a low growl tinting his words. “It was not merely the mark. I took pleasure from giving you pleasure.” His thumb stroked the underside of your jaw. “A great deal of it, it seems.”

You shifted until you were on your knees before him, and even the dark of the night could not conceal the way Sanemi’s eyes darkened at the sight.

“Shall I give it back to you, my Wolf?” You whispered, leaning forward to graze your lips against the crotch of his breeches. “I should like to taste you as well.”

To your surprise, neither growl nor groan rumbled from the depths of Sanemi’s chest as you poked your tongue out between your lips and gently dragged it up the seam of his pants, just as he’d done to you. Instead, what fell from Sanemi’s lips was a low, breathy whine, the wolf’s head tipping back slightly as his eyes squeezed shut.

Below the barrier of his clothing, something between his legs began to stir. Curious, you brought your hand against it, palming him slightly through the material.

“Fuck,” Sanemi hissed, and the hand around your jaw tightened, forcing you to rise to your feet.

Sanemi cracked an eye open to glare at you, but he melted at your answering pout, his thumb running over the bottom lip you’d jutted out.

“I promise you, Lamb,” he said gruffly. “I will give you plenty of my pleasure once the full moon rises; so much so, you will not know what to do with it.”

Your curiosity disrupted your self-pity. “From your knot?”

“Aye,” Sanemi confirmed, his voice like gravel. “Speaking of which,” Sanemi then tapped your rear, eliciting a small yelp from you as you separated from him.

“If you’re truly committed to taking my knot, you will need your rest, you tempestuous woman,” Sanemi scolded, and before you could protest, he bent low, wrapping his formidable hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up, forcing you to lock your legs around his waist with a small gasp.

Gently, Sanemi laid you out atop his traveling cloak, bracing himself on one steely arm next to your head as he lowered himself down, allowing one quick press of his lips against yours before he pulled away, stretching out on his side.

“We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and an even longer night.” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes that made you rub your thighs together, even as you scowled at him.

“I don’t suppose you will give me another taste of what to expect,” you sighed, resigned as Sanemi moved his head so that he could lazily dance his lips down the side of your neck.

“I’m afraid not,” his answering smirk was smug as you began to squirm beneath the hand idly fondling your breast. “But I shall make the wait worth your while.”

Your breath lodged in your throat as Sanemi leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear. “When we get to my den,” he promised, tone mischievous, yet you knew he meant every word that followed. “I am going to fucking devour you, little Lamb.”

Devour he will. Part II is fucking filthy. Stay tuned if you want to see her take his knot (again and again).

The mall wizard

Banished from the H&M

chilchuck!

It's them

Holding my monster boyfriend’s hand.

Akira bike sliding on a horse

I'm just saying, I would have given them more children

I animated one of my favourite pages from kny

second time using after effects, i think it didn't turn out too bad!

Demon Bride Masterlist

DISCLAIMERS AND IMPORTANT INFO!!: EVERYONE in this story is in their early 20s-30s! This story will contain mentions of past abuse and death! I'll be keeping it as SFW. Some backstories have been slightly altered for this particular story, and some characters cannonically dead or harmed is alive and well. I own nothing. This story will be sfw, but there will be some blood, implied death, fighting, some gore mentioned, and a few other things that will be made aware by warnings. Pay attention to warnings at the top of any chapters please.

Credit to @flanelltees​ for the designs I based the demons off to look more demon-like with tails and pointed ears.

SUMMERY: Once in the mountain villages it was a custom that once a year on the night of the new year's first moon, an unlucky young lady would be selected and left for the demons to become one of the unlucky few who married such a husband. In exchange for this offering the demons would protect the villages and leave the humans in peace. Until one day a powerful warrior drove the demons away freeing the humans of them. Now 2,000 years later, it's become a tradition that once a year, a new young lady would be picked and wait for her future husband to retrieve her from a shrine in the mountains. And now the lucky tradition would fall upon Y/n L/n. It would be her own turn to take on the tradition and not have to worry about demons. After all that part of the old tradition was just fake, made up by paranoid ancestors. Everyone knew demons didn't exist....Right?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

(Final) Chapter 62

BOUNUS CONTENT

Demon Bride Side Story

Demon Bride Fake Endings

someone to protect.

himejima gyomei x reader

wc: 9.4k

a/n: i'm not so sure how to feel about this :||

himejima came out of the room with the meeting he just had with the corps leader that ended swiftly. he bowed one last time to ubayashiki before closing the door.

as he walks down the corridor of the house, he thinks back to what he and ubayashiki talk about.

“ah…” he groaned as he rubbed his palms together. “another newly appointed hashira.”

he was visiting the master when the latter brought up this new information. he was told that this new hashira eliminated the lower rank three of the twelve demon moons.

tears started to fall down his cheeks as usual.

“ah… i wish they wouldn’t die as easily.” he cries, his sensitive heart breaking just by the thought of his fellow slayer dying, even if they haven’t met yet.

meanwhile, you just arrived at the headquarters with the help of a kakushi leading the way for you. you were told by the kakushi to wait in the backyard, while he went to announce your arrival to the people in the house. 

you know why you were here.

recently, you managed to kill the lower rank two.

whether it was luck or not that the sun came out as your stamina was running low from trying to keep him the demon from running away, the only thing you know is that your loathing for those disgusting monsters have gone up to the maximum level. 

just thinking about them makes your hands shake with anger.

that same day you got the recognition for slaughtering the lower rank three was the same day you lost your closest friend.

the friend who you grew up with. that friend who was with you and helped you when a demon killed your only family, your father. that friend who joined the corps with you. 

the friend who you promised to protect.

just to fail. 

…

your mouth was open but no words were coming out of it. you watched in horror as her body slowly lost its strength.

“don't cry…” she muttered, slowly. she knows you don’t realize how much tears are coming out of your eyes, that your sclera is already turning red, the same color as her red-stained clothes.

your friend was lying on your arms, blood flowed out of the large wound the demon gave her when she almost beheaded it. 

“d-don’t talk! help is on their way! just wait for a bit— i promise i won't let you die—” your eyes, disoriented from panicking, looked around to see if anyone's coming your way.

‘is there anything there that can stop her bleeding?! pressure! i should put pressure on the wound—’

your distraught mind stopped when you felt her hands, covered with blood, touch your cheek.

you looked into her already half closed eyes. 

“no… pressure… let me apply—” you uttered, trying to ignore the tightness of your throat.

she shook her head.

“(y/n), it's too late for me…” she answered.

“no, just shut your mouth! i know help is on the way!” you shouted as you took off your haori and tried to tie it around her waist, trying to stop the blood from flowing out more. not noticing how your breaths became shorter and faster. 

“please… just promise me one thing—” she started.

you held her hand on your cheeks and looked down at her. 

“no! i’m not promising you anything! you better survive this! you haven't taught me yet how to make those mochi you always make! i still haven't found the demon who killed my father! you told me you'll help me with it! so you better survive!”

she smiled weakly at you. tears filled her eyes as she listened to you one last time. 

“you have to survive… please… you're the only one i have left…” you whispered, your own tears falling on her cheeks. 

“s-sorry…” she said and stopped to take another deep breath. “please… i'm sorry for leaving you all alone. please be happy…”

you sobbed as you nodded.

seeing your answer, she smiled. and her hands slowly slipped down from their touch on your cheeks, while her eyes slowly closed. 

…

you shook your head. you felt your eyes get teary again and it snapped you out of your thoughts.

that kakushi said i should go to the back, right? 

as you were walking to the backyard, you heard a noise coming from the shrub on the fence’s side. you immediately went into alert, ready to attack it if ever it's something that needs to be taken down at once. 

you took your stance and were ready to sheathe your sword.

“nyaa~”

eh?

“a cat?” you muttered as you relaxed your body. 

what am i doing getting all tense to a cat?

now that i think about it, that was too much reaction. it’s not like there will be demons at the headquarters. what’s more, the sun is out…

“...pfft—” you immediately covered your mouth and tried to hold yourself back from letting out a laugh.

you crouched down and held your hand out to the creature. you moved your fingers and tried to call the cat.

“come here.” you talked to it. 

it meowed again before making its way to you. you peeked on its genitals and noted that it’s a male. he rubbed his face on your palm and you could hear his purrs. a small smile appeared on your lips.

“where did you come from?” you asked him, knowing he wouldn’t answer back except for a meow.

“are you a cat of the master?” you queried again before lifting the cat up and holding it close to your chest.

you examined him and he seems fine with no evident injury. you felt relieved. 

“thank goodness you're not hurt or anything.” you whispered as you pulled him closer to you.

“please live safely.” you added, booping his nose. 

the cat suddenly jumped out of your hold and ran away, vanishing from your view into a corner.

“(y/n)-sama, this way please.” the kakushi with you earlier suddenly spoke. 

you stood and tidied up your uniform.

“yes.” you answered before following them.

“nyaa~” 

“oh?” himejima uttered when the cat meowed his way. he knelt down and offered his arms to the cat.

the cat immediately jumped onto him.

“were you finished talking to that person?” he asked the feline who became fascinated by the sound that his prayer beads are making with his every move.

she must be the new hashira. he thought to himself.

as he pets the cat, he smiles to himself.

at the very least, she seems to be kind from the way she treated this cat. i wish her all the best and hope she survives long.

when his kakushi guide arrived, he left the place carrying the cat that was a stray one when he was on his way to the headquarters.

…

it’s been seven months. 

seven months ever since you’ve been posted in your jurisdiction. you did your best to protect the people from where you were assigned.

you got to admit, with protecting them and having to be always alert that a demon might appear suddenly at night during your patrol helped get some thoughts off of your mind.

but, it will make you never forget the hatred you feel for every demon.

every time you encounter one, at the back of your mind you're thinking that maybe not all demons are like that, only for that thought to be shattered once you hear how they explain with no remorse that eating human flesh is delicious and that they'll always choose to be demon even in their next life.

it makes your skin crawl with disgust that you even gave them a bit of compassion. you regret even thinking that they might be different from others.

you hate them. 

you loathe them. 

you won't forgive them for killing all your beloved ones.

you won't let even one of these revolting creatures escape your blade. you swore to kill the one who took your father's life with this blade.

it's dawn and you just woke up. you sleep during the day as demons are more active during the night, so you as a hashira should be too.

after getting ready, you immediately head out of your house that you bought after receiving your first pay as a hashira.

you also took in two tsuguko. 

they helped you out maintaining the large place. one of them is just waiting for the final selection to take place and become an official part of the corps, while the other one has just started training.

watching them two puts a smile on your face. 

they're such great students. it makes you feel proud just thinking about them becoming the best swordsman they can be.

also, worried and scared. scared that they might end up with the same fate as your best friend.

but, you trust them.

and you can't deny the fact that might happen to you too, today, tomorrow, next week, or soon.

“master, please be careful!” your younger tsuguko waved goodbye to you.

“please come back home to us in one piece!” the older one said.

they looked at each other and smiled widely.

“please bring some dangos too!” they said in unison.

you chuckled and waved back to them while walking out of the house.

“okay, okay. i won’t forget. i'll leave the house to you.” you told them and headed out.

it’s been just months but they’ve become attached to you already.

your older disciple, akiro, was a kid whose sole family left was killed by a demon. the massacre of his family happened around the time when you weren't a hashira yet and was stationed to a different place. you found him, four days after getting the highest rank, aimlessly walking around the town with nothing but his torn clothes from fighting and escaping the demon.

who knows how long he must've been walking around without thinking?

you took him to your rented house during that time. he asked you why you were helping him, and you answered him, it's just natural.

when you bought your current house, he suddenly walked up to you with teary eyes and thanked you for everything you did for him, thinking that you're done taking care of him and was about to leave him. 

you laughed when you heard it, immediately replied saying that he's welcome but you never told him you're moving alone.

he was delighted to hear it, seeing how his face lit up brought a smile to your lips.

when he regained his strength and health back, he asked you to teach him about demons and how to kill them. asking him the reason for wanting to learn it, he replied that he wanted to take revenge for his family member.

it pained your heart a bit. of course, just like you, it’s not easy to forget something like that. but you gave him what he wanted and took him as your first tsuguko.

the younger one, kenji, was a feisty one when you first met him. finding him trying to survive alone in the mountain with nothing but his make-shift weapons and his own built house made of branches of trees and large leaves.

when you spotted his hideout, you thought it was a trap made by a demon in order to catch humans, but when you turned around, you saw him carrying a bundle of woods, to keep him warm for the night.

you asked him what he's doing there and he candidly answered that he lives there. he said that he ran away from his abusive mother after his beloved father died and started living on his own because no one else would take in another mouth to feed.

you know you couldn’t leave a 12-year-old boy alone in the woods. you’re surprised that he wasn’t targeted by the demons yet, but you wouldn’t wait for it to happen first before you act.

you told him that he shouldn’t live there because there could be demons lurking around and that you’ll guide him back to his house. suddenly, a sharp pointed staff almost shoots past your face, you manage to easily dodge it. 

you looked at him and flinched at the mixed look of fear and hate in his eyes. you were wrong for that, you didn’t process what he said earlier and stepped on mine. you apologized to him and just as you were about to speak again, you heard the growling of a demon about to jump at the two of you.

it was just a low-grade demon, so you immediately dealt with it with ease. but, your every slash bore your deep hatred with them as they cut through its neck. when you looked back at him, you told him that this is the reason why he can’t stay there. he was hesitant to come with you, but you promised him that you won’t bring him back to his mother.

your older disciple welcomed him and he slowly warmed up to his new found older brother. 

they are now getting along just fine. the older one became comfortable and is now a reliable one and the younger one’s now a cheerful and healthy kid.

watching them fills your heart with fuzziness and you vow to protect them with everything you could until they become full-fledged swordsmen.

…

you started your patrol around the area, once you didn't really get any order to eradicate a demon or investigate a suspicious case from your crow.

speaking of your crow, it went to the headquarters to get some new information and order from the master and still hasn't come back.

well, based on the time my crow arrives after sending her off is long, i can assume that the headquarters might be far from my place.

guess i'll just have to be alert and patrol around.

it was past midnight already and fortunately you’re not feeling anything suspicious or any presence of a demon.

*caw. caw.*

your eyebrows furrowed when you heard a crow, you turned your head and saw it coming your way. it was your crow finally arriving after a long trip from the headquarters to your jurisdiction.

you raise your arms to her to rest on and she immediately tells you what the leader has told you.

“the master would like to say that the monthly report for hashira’s will be happening next weekend. please be ready.” she started.

you nodded, reaching for her seed bag that you keep on you. you grabbed a fistful of seeds and thanked her for doing all of that.

“also, order! order! you are to collaborate with another hashira tomorrow in a forest that borders both of your assigned regions. lots of lower rank slayers have lost their lives! investigate and kill the demons!” 

she added and ate her seeds as soon as she finished.

another hashira? who might it be?

i’m not familiar with the rest of hashira's. i’m only talking to kanae and then the rest’s name is all i know. 

that aloof looking guy, giyuu. that loud sound hashira, uzui. that one guy who made a scene in the last meeting, i think his name was shigazunawa? 

and that one big guy who always cries…

hi… himejima?

that guy’s always crying, but when i tried talking to him last time as he was the first one to arrive and i came after, he stood in front of me and put his large hands on top of my head and he suddenly prayed.

what was that? 

i just stayed silent because i don’t want to be rude to someone older than me, but that was weird. thankfully, kanae arrived shortly after.

i hope he’s not the one i’m working with tomorrow.

…

great.

as you’re running on the entrance of the forest that your crow has led you to, you could already see himejima’s gigantic body from afar.

you sped up your run and stopped in front of him.

“good evening, himejima-san.” you greeted him, you bowed to him thanking him for waiting for you.

you’re here to slay numerous demons tonight. just thinking about the countless people that died in this place makes your eyes rage with anger and contempt for those atrocious monsters.

as you were raising your head, you felt his hands on the top of your head yet again.

you were about to ask what he’s doing when he started his chants. you wanted to groan in disbelief, but you can’t.

“let’s go.” he uttered as soon as he was finished and started walking towards the forest.

“yes…” you replied and fixed your hair.

seriously, what was that for?

as the two of you walk through the dark, eerie forest, himejima leads the way. the moon was supposed to be your only light, but just your luck, it’s really cloudy tonight. 

you were astonished as to how he easily perceives the structure of his surroundings and the things in front of him.

you weren’t even thinking when you suddenly talked to him.

“himejima-san, it’s amazing. y— you can easily navigate through this forest.” you complimented, realizing in the middle of the sentence that your mouth was speaking your mind, but just decided to follow through.

“mhm. i have a hearing that i enhanced in order to live normally in this world.” he answered, without stopping his feet. “you seemed to have hesitated in continuing your sentence. i can hear that you didn’t mean to say those words out loud.” he added.

he has good hearing, he said? maybe he’s using it like echolocation? or is it really echolocation?

he suddenly stopped walking that alerted you. 

you immediately went into a fighting stance, ready to cut up every single of those sickening creatures that might show up out of nowhere.

“a single thought of a demon makes your thoughts in disarray. your hatred for them is reflecting with your every move, yet it’s holding you back at the same time.” himejima blurted out, not moving an inch from where he was.

“what?” you asked him, with an annoyed face.

“(y/n),” he turned his body halfway and faced you. “your hatred for them is holding you back.”

his words strike a nerve in you. you knew he wouldn’t be able to see your offended face, so you had to use your words.

“i’m sorry, himejime-san, but what do you know about me and the things that i experienced? you’re being extremely rude for our first work together, don’t you think?” you refuted, releasing your hold on your katana grip.

she’s upset. himejima noted in his mind.

“i’m sorry for that. i didn’t mean to upset you.” he apologized.

you were still a bit offended by what he said, but knowing that you can’t move freely in this darkness and he can, you knew arguing with him is not the wisest thing to do.

“i see.” you replied and looked away.

he smiled. he knew it wasn’t a genuine reply from you, but he was at fault here, so didn’t pried more.

he continued walking to where he could feel the presence of the demons.

he also realized that should’ve chosen a friendlier topic to strike up the conversation. he didn’t want to make the first collaboration with the hashira that he’s most interested in awkward, so he tried continuing the talk.

and he did so lousily by mentioning that insight he had about you being hateful to the demons.

after the first time he ever heard her talking to the cat, he was always praying that his crow would not come to him and report that this fellow hashira died in the middle of completing a mission. 

especially when you said those words to the cat, he felt like he needed to always keep a close look at you or else you could lose yourself.

it might’ve been just imagination and self-interpretation, but still. still, he was joyful when you attended the monthly meeting of hashiras for the sixth consecutive time.

he then remembered something kanae told him last meeting.

“how are your tsugukos doing?” he asked, hoping that this time it’s the right topic.

“my tsugukos?” you repeated.

he was right on the target. he could hear how your heart skips a beat with excitement when he mentions them. it was like you forgot that you were angry at him in the first place.

she must’ve cherished them so much.

“mhm. tell me about them.” he replied, smiling while walking straight.

huh? what kind of information does he want me to tell them? uhh…

“they said they want me to bring some dangos on my way home again. i bought them some yesterday and they really liked it.” you revealed.

“yeah. dangos are delicious.” he replied briefly.

“...” 

is that what he wanted to hear or not? why isn’t he saying something?

walking in complete awkwardness, you decided to talk more about your disciples.

“well, you see. my youngest one is still training his swordsmanship, but i can definitely tell. he’ll be a much greater swordsman than i am. he told me he’ll wait until he’s 15 years old and then participate in the final selection. my oldest one is just waiting for the final selection to happen. he’s a great swordsman too, but his quick decision thinking and ability to apply them into action is his edge— ah.” you suddenly realized how much you were talking and got carried away. “sorry, i said too much.” you continued.

“no, i don’t mind.” he comforted you. 

“oh, thank you.”

the walk was a bit quiet for a moment. himejima was contemplating whether it’s good to bring up something he noticed, or just let the conversation end there.

he risked it.

“but, when you mention the final selection. i can hear you’re a bit worried.” he said, hoping that you won’t get mad again.

instead, he heard your chuckles.

“your acute hearing sure is a bad match-up for those who want to keep their secrets, aren’t they?” you laughed.

“you’re right. i was the one who trained them and refined them to be the greatest swordsman that they could. but, deep in my heart… i’m always thinking twice whether to let them participate there or not. the exam is dangerous. unless you’re ready to give everything you got and throw everything away at the same time, you won’t survive there. i know it well because i experienced it too with my friend. she was the only reason i managed to endure those grueling seven days. if it wasn’t for her, i would’ve given up right on the first day.” you babbled.

his short hums and nods tell you that he was listening intently to all of it.

“i know my two students are different from me. they’re not the type to give up on the first day, but i still can’t help but to get worried. i’m scared that they won’t be back on the morning of the eighth day. but, i also don’t want to stop them from their ambitions. i also want them to achieve their dreams and reach their goals, so i won’t stop them. i’ll protect them until they reach it. i know they’ll make me proud, just like how i am proud of them.” you finished with a smile on your face, thinking about the moment when you welcomed them back once they passed the exam.

you look up at himejima and he was looking back at you with a smile, even though you can only see white in his eyes, you know his smile is pure and genuine.

“i’m sure they are also proud to have you as their teacher.” he replied.

your eyes widened as you felt your chest get excited.

“r-really?” you sheepishly said as you looked away.

you know he couldn’t see your face getting pink, but you just can’t help it. 

why is he smiling so softly like that? i’ve never seen him even crack a smile before. it’s weird that i’ve seen this guy cry first and smile next.

preoccupied with your thoughts, you suddenly bumped on his muscular back when you didn’t notice that he suddenly stopped walking.

“there’s a demon coming.” he announced.

alerted, you immediately grabbed your sword. you took your fighting stance ready to face any demon that may come from any direction.

“behind.” himejima uttered, which you quickly responded to.

“got it.” 

you quickly turned around and found a demon lurking up a tree. once he made eye contact with you, he immediately jumped at you.

“whoo! another female with that clothes! i’m so lucky these days! keep coming!” he shouted as he tried to slash you with his sharp claws.

you kept your stance.

once he entered your reach, you drew your blade and used your breathing. 

the water breathing was originally your style, but as time passes you upgraded and turned it to ice breathing. you’re still rough around the edges as sometimes, your body subconsciously uses one of the techniques from the water breathing.

you managed to finish him off with one technique. his body plops on the ground, while his head tumbled next to a tree.

“huh?” he muttered, failing to realize that he had been beheaded. 

he watched as his body slowly turned into ashes. his eyes enlarged, his teeth grinding against each other. he moved his focus to the two hashiras talking.

“your breathing is indeed fascinating. it’s promising.” himejima praised.

“thank you so much. i’m still getting used to it, but i’m working hard on it.” you replied, putting back your sword into its hilt.

“i look forward to it, (y/n). i hope i’ll be there when you finally master that intriguing breathing.” he said and was about to start walking deeper into the woods.

the two heard the demon who's in the middle of incineration, growling his words towards you.

“argh! damn! i can't believe i got beheaded by this mere woman! die!” he uttered, the veins in his eyes almost popping from anger.

you looked down on his head and stared at him with a disgusted face.

“this mere woman didn't even break a sweat in beheading you.” you said, “hurry up and die, demon.”

just conversing with this creature makes your skin crawl with revolt. you turned your head in front and was about to take a walk, when he said something that grabbed your attention.

“ugh! kokumo-sama’s waiting for my hunt tonight!” he intoned, looking desperate and scared. “he’s going to kill me if i don’t present him something! he’ll get mad and report me to that guy!” he added.

huh? ‘kokumo’? did i hear that right?

suddenly, himejima felt it again. the same sound coming from your heart that he heard when he saw you tonight.

he turned around to see you, frozen with a shocked look on your face.

you turned your heel to the demon, walking to him without wasting any time. you grabbed his rough hair and pulled it up until his eyes were on the same level as yours.

“now… what did you just say…? who’s waiting for your hunt…?” your words, chopped yet firm. 

you never broke eye contact with him. your orbs are staring at him as if you could see even his past life as a human.

this demon was on the verge of mental breakdown, scared that he might be killed for not offering a human flesh but then realized that dying would mean he’ll be free from the fear from both kokumo and that guy, kibutsuji.

he thought that even with all the humans he killed and ate, he’s given the chance to have a peaceful passing on.

yet, here you are. glaring at him with such cold and hateful eyes. 

he felt shivers down his spine, even though it’s decapitated already. even kokumo never looked at him with this much spite.

“i— i…” he stutters, “k… kokumo…” he finally answers.

“red haori.” you said, he nodded.

“vertical line marks from his eyes downwards...” he nodded.

“... lower rank 5.” 

he shook his head sideways.

“no… lower rank… 2… now…” he corrected you. 

you were right.

not only were he still alive, he even advanced in ranks. he moved up to the position of the demon that you killed with your best friend.

you stood up, still carrying his head in your hand. you raised your arms and asked him.

“where is he?” you questioned.

you completely ignored himejima’s presence. you didn’t have time to think about him while your reopened deep abomination towards that particular demon.

the incineration reached the demon’s jaw and mouth that he couldn’t answer your question. you looked at his body and saw that hands had turned into ashes already.

“damn! use your goddamn eyes and tell me where he is!” you shouted and grabbed his face with your other hand.

“where is he?!” himejima was surprised, not only by the volume, but with the shakiness driven by hate in your voice. he walked to you and held you by your shoulder. only to be brushed off by you almost immediately.

“tell me where he is!” you shouted again to the demon with trembling eyes.

finally, he moved his eyes. he looked over your shoulder, 5 o’ clock from your position.

without wasting any moment, you threw his head away and started running to where he told that demon was.

with no choice left, himejima decided to follow you. 

he knew you couldn’t see that much in this darkness and he was right. you stumbled, tripped and everything, but you never stopped running. you will not until you find that demon.

earlier, he noted how the sound your body emits was in disarray. just like how it is every time he meets you. he thought chanting a calming prayer for you would work, but he knows it’s only temporary.

every time a demon enters your mind, you immediately feel hate and repulsion. your hatred for them is so deep and it was engraved in every cell.

you were not the type to talk about your past, so kocho couldn’t tell much to him about what happened to you that made you hate demons this much. 

sure, everyone in the corps despised them too. but, he wanted to know the reason for your feelings. that must’ve been the reason why he’s always watching over you and searching for your presence during the monthly meetings.

though, now’s not the time to ask for the reason.

right now, he can hear how disturbed your mind is. your breaths are short and fast. you're so focused on reaching the destination, that you couldn’t hear him calling for you.

“(y/n), slow—” before he could even finish what he was saying, you stopped running.

he tried to feel his surroundings. he’s sure that there is a demon close by, maybe the reason why you stopped.

meanwhile, your eyes narrowed in annoyance. in front of you is a demon who’s out to hunt, not the person you’re looking for.

you unsheathed your sword and immediately pounced on her. 

“don’t get in my way!” you screamed while running towards her and slashing her neck. 

not even sparing her decapitated body a glance, you continued running forward. himejima was calling for your name multiple times while still following your trails, yet it never reaches your ears.

i’m going to kill him!

i’m going to kill him!

that demon who took my father’s life!

these thoughts filled your mind while running past trees.

you’ve met with three more demons, but it only added to your exasperation seeing that they’re not the demon you wanted to see.

it’s actually not just three. himejima fought demons that were coming from different directions. you were so focused in front of you that you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings except for what's ahead of you.

during your interaction with the last demon, there were a lot of demons. himejima got so tangled up in defeating every last one of them, that he just saw you back still running straight in that direction.

he had no choice but to leave your side for a while, even if it put his heart in a nervous state. 

he wanted to protect you, not because he thinks you're weak and does not have the ability to protect yourself, but because right now, you’re in a complete mess. he’s afraid you might not make a sound decision because of your emotion and then find you lifeless there.

with the amount of his co-slayers dying left and right, the thought of you dying is what he hates the most.

he doesn’t understand it too, but maybe the excitement and him looking forward to every monthly report meeting and, especially, the giddy feeling he felt when you arrived tonight and he realized that you two will work together is connected to it.

yet, here you are, you ran and ran, until you reached a spot where a huge boulder was in the middle of the trees.

there, a demon was sitting on top of the rock. sitting cozily there while around him was a pile of human flesh, probably from other demons that offered him their hunt in order to not be killed.

red haori…

vertical lines from his eyes downwards…

and…

lower rank 2…

ahh… 

suddenly, it’s all coming back to me.

“(y/n), run! i’ll distract him!” “what are you doing? i told you to run!” “this is not the time to be stubborn, (y/n)! run!” “huh? your legs?” “please, just bear with it for a while and run!” “okay, thank you for listening one last time…”

the demon notices your presence. he looked down and saw a demon slayer catching up to her breath and looking rather nastily towards him.

“now, now…” he muttered, changing his position and leaning forward. “it’s been a while since i’ve seen an alive human here that’s not an offering.” 

i’m going to kill this disgusting trash. you thought as you went and jumped close to him without even thinking.

naturally, he managed to read your move and kicked you on your stomach. your body came flying back, earning you a few scratches and small open wounds.

you struggled to stand up as you held your sword firmly and looked at him. 

he stood up too and effortlessly jumped down the boulder. he took his time walking close to where you were.

you stayed on your feet, glaring and pointing your blade at him.

“you did well managing to come here without serious injury—” he suddenly halted his movements and took a good look at your face. “well, well. i might be wrong, but we’ve met before, right?”

you narrowed your eyes.

he then laughed maniacally.

“a few years ago, a parent and his child were peacefully living in a small house.” he started to narrate. 

“when one night, a demon arrived and ruined their lives!” his hands were moving in the air in a dramatic way, along with his facial expression.

“but! he was a devoted father! he doesn’t want to lose another one of his family, just like what happened with his wife…” he continued, yet this caught your attention.

how…?

“that’s why he had to distract the demon while his injured daughter ran away.” he glanced at you and smirked.

“he was left alone with the demon without knowing he was the demon’s real target! your father’s a marechi after all!” he revealed. 

you widened your eyes, promptly you went and attacked him with one of your breathing forms.

but, he was able to deflect it.

of course, he’s not like those demons you killed on your way here. this guy is at the top of the chain here. what’s more is that he’s second rank in the lower moon.

“how did you know about my mother going missing?” you asked him.

he tilted his head in confusion and sighed.

“gosh… you’re not that good up here, are you?” he said, pointing to his temple. looking at you with a pitiful expression.

“what?!” you refuted, burrowing your brows together. 

“how did i learn about it? who else would know but the victim themselves, witnesses and… the culprit.” he grinned widely.

“i mistook your mother as the one who had a marechi blood, but when i came back the next evening. it turned out that you moved somewhere else to look for your missing mother that was already in my stomach! hahaha! thankfully, i was able to find your father again. i didn’t care about you, so that was the only reason you’re still alive right now.”

your sight almost turned blurry.

she wasn’t missing nor did she run away because she got tired of living a poor life. it was this thing in front of you who took her away from you and your father.

my mother…

my father…

this demon took my family from me…

i’m going to kill him.

i’m going to kill him!

your body moved on its own. you closed your distance and tried to cut his neck, but to no avail. you failed to cut him down, because he hardened his neck.

your blade and his hard body exchanged blows. yet, it seems like you’re the only one taking the damage.

your attacks, though surely were supposed to be strong, were affected by your rapid and reckless spontaneous decision. it was erratic and weaker in force.

but, that didn’t mean he would hold back with his attack against you.

in such a short time, not even five minutes passed, you were covered with bruises and injuries. not that you had even the smallest amount of attention to look at it.

as you were blown away by his punch, you immediately got on your feet and tried to unleash another technique. 

he must admit that even though it’s evident that you’re not thinking straight, your attacks are still affecting him. 

until, he chanted the words ‘blood demon art’.

ah… that’s right, he still hasn’t used it. even though i’m beat up already. but, i can’t stop my body.

i don’t want to stop.

the only thing on my mind is wanting to see his head separated from his body.

i want to avenge my parents.

i don’t care if i wound up dead, as long as i manage to do it.

“blood demon art: countless projectiles.” he said and numerous long, black lines like the ones on his came appeared.

they moved towards you at an unbelievable speed.

nevertheless, your body was on auto-pilot. you still moved forward and still wanted to cut his head.

i don’t care anymore.

“(y/n)!” 

suddenly, himejima appeared in front of you deflecting all the attacks coming at you. somehow, it irked you.

“heh… someone capable arrived.” kokumo muttered, smirking.

“please move aside, himejima-san. i’ll kill that demon myself. don’t get in my way.” you claimed and stepped forward.

himejima tried to analyze your condition.

you were breathing heavily and it seems like every inhale is hard to do. he could hear the faint gushing sound of your blood coming out of every wound you have.

“i’m sorry, there were a lot more demons here than i thought and they stalled me.” he explained, but you didn’t respond.

“(y/n), i’ll take it from here—” 

“i said i’ll kill that demon myself!” you turned your head to him, glaring at his face. “i don’t care if i die as long as he dies too!”

before he could even reply to you, you took off and charged at kokumo one more time.

kokumo released another attack, with nothing but death on the demon in front of you in your mind, you failed to recognize his plan.

you were surrounded by almost infinite numbers of projectiles. there’s no way you could dodge all of them.

“die!” kokumo exclaimed proudly.

i’m done.

you closed your eyes to brace yourself on getting punctured by the projectiles, but it never came. 

you decided to open your eyes and found kokumo turning around as he just realized where you were. you looked up and saw himejima and his side profile as he carried you in a bridal style. he set you down and leaned your back on the boulder’s surface.

he managed to cancel his attacks in such a short time. you thought as he wiped some of the blood on your face. you wondered how he knew there was blood on your face, but you can’t question him about something like that right now.

“why are you throwing your life away so easily like that?” he said under his breath, you almost didn’t hear him. he looked rather sad rather than upset.

“it’s my life. i’ll decide when i’m throwing my life away or not.” you replied and looked at kokumo who’s getting more irritated that he’s having a hard time already with you and now someone who’s a lot stronger came. “and right now, i’m willing to throw it away as long as i kill that bastard.” you added. 

you were about to stand up once again when you saw kokumo pounce on where you two were, but himejima stopped you. 

“stone breathing second form: upper smash.” he attacked. 

he managed to hit kokumo when he threw his spiked flail upwards and pulled the chain rapidly to create a force once it hit its target. he also threw his axe and was able to cut deep through his left chest across his right chest. this caused kokumo to jump backwards as he heals himself from wounds that the spikes gave him.

“don’t get in my way, himejima-san! i’ll be the one killing him!” you shouted as you shakily stood up. using your hand by holding on to the boulder to balance your body, while your other hand is still firmly held on your sword.

himejima didn’t say anything, he didn’t look back at you. the sound of his chains getting dragged back to him was the prominent sound that you heard at that moment.

“do you not treasure your life?” he asked.

why does he keep getting in my way and asking me that? i already told him earlier that he doesn’t know anything about what i experienced and leave me alone!

fine!

“my family has been killed by that guy. my best friend was also killed by the former lower rank 2. i’ve been left alone because of these demons and you’re asking me if i treasure my life?!” you snapped at him, not noticing how your tears gathered around your eyes.

“everyone that i cherished has been killed and taken away from me already! i don’t care anymore! i don’t want—” your tears have started falling.

your emotions pouring out like an overfilled cup, but his next question left you speechless.

“aren’t your tsugukos waiting for the dangos?” he uttered, shifting his body to you.

“huh?”

it seems like your world has stopped spinning. you stood there silently with wide eyes.

my tsugukos…

akiro… kenji…

“master, this dango’s really delicious!” “you should try some, master!” “hey! kenji! that’s mine!” “eh? master wanted to eat some too!” “why would you get it from me then?” “i already ate all of mine. i can give this to master, right, ‘akiro-niisan’?” “tsk. go ahead. just know it’s not because you called me ‘nii-san’.” “yeah, yeah.”

“master, please be careful on your mission today!” “get back to us in one piece. i’ll take care of kenji here, so don’t worry.” “and, please bring some dango again, hehe!”

your knees suddenly gave up, you sat on the ground, staring at the bracelet that they both made for you. they jokingly said that it will protect you because they made it, but still you wore it. because of the same reason. 

they made it. for you.

kokumo finished healing himself and tried to use his projectiles again, but himejima, before kokumo finished his attack, flung his chain and chopped one of kokumo’s legs. he fell down and hid himself using a fort that he built with his blood demon art right there and then. at least, himejima knew that he wouldn't run away.

“you said…” himejima started. you raised your head and looked at him with blurry eyes caused by tears. “...that you’ll protect them until they achieve their goals and dreams.” 

you shook your head in denial, wanting to refute what he was about to say but no words came out of your lips. 

the picture of akiro and kenji seeing your crow arrive and thinking you’re back. but, then breaking down in tears once they’ve heard your passing kept replaying in your mind.

“are you going to throw away your life knowing your students are waiting patiently for your return and they welcome you back like always?” he asked, grabbing the chance that kokumo is hiding himself and walked to you.

he kneeled down on his one foot in front of you.

“no! no!” you finally spoke, bawling. you grabbed ahold of his green haori and looked up at him. 

“i don’t want them to suffer! i don’t want them to feel hurt again! i don’t want them to be abandoned yet again! they’re finally happy and smiling! i don’t want to see them crying again! they’re my only salvation left here in this world! i don’t want them to be left again.” you sobbed as you snuggled your face on his chest.

his large hands landed on your hair and back, pushing you closer to him providing you comfort and ease.

but, the picture of them crying wasn't leaving your mind.

i’m sorry… i’m sorry… i’m not going to throw my life carelessly anymore… 

i’ll be home later with the dangos that you two wanted, so wait for me.

you pulled away from him and wiped your face. you were still sniffing, but you were sure it wouldn’t be in the way of your breathing technique.

“i’m fine now.” you told him and he just nodded.

he stood up and stepped backwards. you looked at him when you saw him do that. you glanced at him with a confused look.

“i won’t get in your way anymore.” he said with a small smile.

“why?” you questioned, not understanding why now.

“i’m not hearing that your mind is in disarray anymore. you can do it.” he encouraged and clasped his hand together again.

you smiled.

i see. so that’s why…

you looked at kokumo, he just removed the fort he made. with an enraged face, he chanted his art technique yet again.

but, you didn’t care. not even when you’re injured and full of wounds. you closed your distance with him. when you calculated the right distance, you stopped walking.

originally, my ice breathing had only four forms. it’s a breathing that only i used, so it’s hard to make forms. 

but, i have this attack in my mind. i never executed it, even in practice, but i’m getting a feeling that i can do it.

“ice breathing fifth form: complete stillness”

it was a technique that makes the surroundings around you, with a certain distance, frozen. this makes them immobilized for three seconds.

but those three seconds are just what you need.

i’m sorry, my dear best friend, mom, and dad. 

i always thought that once i kill this guy, i’ll join you there. but, it seems like i won’t be able to now.

you see, i have two children looking forward to my return.

i’m sorry and thank you for being my will to live. i’ve found another reason to continue living too.

kokumo’s head rolled on the ground and his body soon fell over, but just as you. the exhaustion finally caught up to you. 

the difference between your body and kokumo’s is that his body fell flat on the dirty soil, while yours was immediately caught by himejima, carrying your body in a bridal style yet again.

you tried to open your eyes, you barely managed to. when you saw himejima’s face, you smiled brightly.

“himejima-san…” you called with half-lidded orbs.

“hm?” he hummed, gazing down at you. after he checked that kokumo’s body had started turning into ashes, he started walking out of the forest.

“i killed him… without dying…” you said proudly.

“you’re right. i’m relieved we’re going out of this forest both alive. you did so well. i’m proud of you.” he complimented without skipping a beat.

something did skip a beat and it’s your heart. hearing his genuine compliment and relief, puts a blush on your cheeks even though your body is so tired.

what’s more is that you’re worried that his acute hearing caught that.

ugh, so embarrassing. i’ll just pretend to be asleep.

you rested your head on his shoulder and tried to make it seem like you’ve fallen asleep.

cute. himejima chuckled silently.

…

“master?” akiro uttered confusedly.

it was already dawn and they were both up. kenji heard what he said and excitedly went to the door to welcome you. 

“eh?” he said, just as confused as the other boy.

himejima-san??? 

you still had your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, but this time out of embarrassment.

i didn’t think he would walk me back to my house while carrying me!

please put me down!

but, i can’t say it!

people are staring!

you peeked and tried to look if you were close to your house already. your crow did the work of guiding him to where your residence is, because you realized he’s going to carry you, so you hid your face.

you saw akiro and kenji on the front door with confused looks on their faces.

“h-himejima-san, we’re close to my house already, so you can put me down already. i’ll walk on my own now—” 

“no. you hurt your feet in the fight, you’re not supposed to be walking.” he cut you off and continued walking. 

he heard a conversation about their ‘master’, so he knew what direction he would be going.

he stopped right in front of them, looming over the two children with his enormous height. they were obviously frightened.

“p-please give us back our master.” akiro asked.

“what did you do to our master?!” kenji interrogated, while akira shielded him securely behind him.

akiro examined the man carrying you and noticed that he was wearing the same uniform as yours and his golden buttons.

you tapped on himejima’s back, signaling him to let you down. finally putting you down carefully, supporting your back as you get on your feet.

you looked over to akiro and kenji and smiled.

they were still confused, but slowly made their way to you. 

you kneeled down. for their ages, they’re quite tall, making you gaze up at them. you opened your arms and pulled them into an embrace.

“i’m home…” you whispered, hugging them even tighter.

the two children were surprised, you’ve come home from missions, easy and perilous missions, but you never came home in this manner.

akiro was about to ask what happened when he heard you sniffle. he worriedly peeked at the younger one and was about to ask if he knew what’s happening, only to see him bawling already.

“wahhh! why are you crying, master?” he cried, snuggling his face on your clothes.

“mhm-mm.” you shook your head. you withdrew from the hug, but kenji didn’t want to let go, that’s why he continued hugging you. 

“nothing. i’m just happy i was able to come back home.” you answered him, caressing his head.

you looked at akiro and put your hand over his cheeks lightly.

“akiro, where’s my ‘welcome back’?” you asked, chuckling softly.

he doesn’t understand it. 

the reason why you came home crying, why you’re doing this, and why you’re being like this.

he doesn’t understand why it makes him feel relieved that you look like you’ve finally lifted off of the heavy weight on your back that you never talked about.

he doesn’t understand why you’re looking at them like your world is them.

he doesn’t understand why he feels so overwhelmed seeing you like this when he doesn’t even understand anything.

yet, he can’t stop his tears as you wait for him and stare at him tenderly.

“w… welcome back, master.” he welcomed finally as he nestled himself next to his brother.

you looked behind and met himejima, crying as usual, as he listened to the three of you.

“himejima-san. thank you for making me realize i have something to protect.” you thanked him, smiling and hoping he could hear your genuine grateful feelings.

he smiled, though tears continued flowing.

“no…” he replied smiling and suddenly remembered something.

“more importantly,” he lifted his hands and you laughed. 

akiro and kenji looked up while wiping their tears and they suddenly lit up. 

“shall we eat this now?” he raised the bag on his hands and inside are dangos that are waiting to be consumed.

“dango!” the two boys said in unison.

kenji ran to him and himejima gave him the bag. the boy happily cheered, completely forgetting how scared he was by the person in front of him earlier. himejima just ruffled his hair and kenji pulled him by his fingers to come inside the estate.

akiro helped you get up, you limped while walking and accidentally let out a hiss in pain. until, himejima once again carried you.

“himejima-san! i’m fine! oh gosh…” you said to him.

he raised his brow in confusion.

“you’re obviously not.” he muttered matter-of-factly.

“akiro—” you were about to say to akiro that you can just ask akiro to support you while walking, but the kid was not there anymore.

you looked at the front and he was there with kenji, who was delighted by the dango, and akira was giving you a teasing look.

that kid!

ugh… it’s so embarrassing!

it’s even more embarrassing knowing he can surely hear how fast my heart is thumping right now!

“me too…” he suddenly spoke.

you glanced up at him.

“thank you.” he thanked you.

“huh? why? i didn’t do anything though…” you were muddled by what he’s saying.

the corner of his lips moving upwards, it’s not visible but from your position, it’s easy to point out.

“i also realized that i have someone to protect outside of my responsibility as a demon slayer.” he said.

“huh?” i did that? “when did i—”

“for the next hashira meeting next week, i’m hoping for your presence there in a full condition.” he said while he set you down on the tatami floor.

akiro and kenji went to get silverwares to eat the dangos, leaving both of you alone in the living room.

“i’ll try my best to recover fast.” you promised, looking at all your wounds and injuries that were already aided by the kakushis, that you didn’t hear what he whispered.

“...say it to you.” were the only words you caught.

“what was that?” you asked him, but akiro and kenji came back from the kitchen.

“let’s eat this now before it gets chewy.” he redirected your attention.

he sat in front of you while akira occupied the left side of the table and kenji did for the right side.

the boys started eating and exclaimed how delicious it was. you decided to eat some too, picking up one stick and gently taking a bite.

himejima silently listened to all of you enjoying the taste of the sweet. he smiled as he focused on your voice.

“please eat up, himejima-san.” you offered him, reaching for another stick and gave it to him. “it’s really delicious.”

“i see. i’ll try some too, then.” he said and took a bite. “it really is delicious.”

“see!” you chuckled.

it made him smile and thought to himself.

‘during those seven days before the meeting, i’ll be sure that what i’m feeling is much more than wanting to reason for your hatred for demons. so, please be there when i finally get the courage to say it to you.’, that's what i said earlier, but now i’m certain.

it wasn’t a kind of worry you will have for your colleague.

i wasn’t familiar with this feeling, so i thought it was just normal.

i’ll just pray she’ll accept my feelings.

‘(y/n), i know you don’t need protection. you’re strong after all. i’ll still promise that i'll always protect you and those who are precious to you.’

i want to say that to you.

but, not now.

you’ve just realized that witnessing these two precious boys' growth are worth living for and you should only be focusing on that for now.

“i look forward to that day.” he muttered to himself and took another bite.

hope you enjoyed that one, because i did. reblogs would be much appreciated!

if you'd like to support me and my broke ass, you can tip me at my ko-fi acc! thank you very much!

"Most of the fanfic are for female audiences!"

"Why is this writer only writing for fem!mc?"

"I wish there's less fem!mc fic."

Reality is already being dominated by male species, let us woman have the fan fiction community. I hate when writer is like 'Fem DNI' like?? I get that it's preference, but fuck off honestly.

Let women enjoy their things without dragging male into it. They're already annoying in rl, i don't want to hear them whining on the internet.

"Oh there's just too much fem!mc in this fandom."

It's a free story. Just be grateful that the writer are even allowing you to read it in the first place.

Writers don't owe you shit.

Stop whining about how writers need to be inclusive for the audience. Sure it'll be great and awesome if they do, but don't fucking force them.

Some are more comfortable writing a specific gender or specific sexuality or specific race. Some writer are most comfortable with writing reader as an extension of themselves. Like a self insert of self indulge fic.

Some might even feel comfortable with writing reader as oc. And that's fine. You didn't pay for it. The writer didn't ask for your money in exchange for that fic. IT'S FREE.

You can ask them to tag their fic properly but to demand them to change the fic? It's bonkers.

You guys are way too comfortable on the internet. You're acting like the rich. Ew.

I saw someone spreading hates on a writer blog's inbox and got mad in their place lol. Also, commission are obviously not included in this rant. Those are different.

Unwanted children

Still, you would have loved me only if I had been something holy.

BADABING BADABOOM

BOXER AU MASTERPOST

INFO CARDS + LINEUP

AI Manager Cards + Bubble

Official Works:

Official poster

Character Card Template

Little Blips:

(Showtime) After a fight

(Boxer Pomni) First design

BOUNDARIES + Q/A

“Can I draw fanart/OCs in this AU?”

Of course you can!! I’d love to see any and everything you do! There’s complete creative liberty when it comes to that, as long as it’s fun!! Though, please don’t send any OCs in my ask box, they can easily get eaten! Please just tag me in a post so I can see!

“Is it allowed to write fanfics?”

YES! I’d love to see what you all come up with!! Please please send any fan work to me!

“Can I create NSFW for this AU?”

I don’t mind, but please keep in mind that I’m a minor! If you do anything, please keep it to yourself or privately! I should not be able to see it at all, so do not send it to me or post it publicly. Please regulate your space properly!

“Can we make ships for your AU?”

Absolutely!! Though keep in mind that some are canon to the au and some are not! That doesn’t mean it isn’t allowed!! Showtime will be an exclusive ship of the au, but I don’t mind seeing otherwise! OC x Canon is allowed!!

(More will be added in the future the further I get into development! Keep an eye out!)

1 Like = 1 Syrup for his Totally Real Mother.

Rest in peace, beloved Gummi: you'll live on through marketable plushies 😔

"You Guys Always Act Like You're Better Than Me?"

Always and Forever (Geto Suguru)

☆TW: Noncon/dubcon, yandere! Geto, somno, NSFW, dead dove, breeding/pregnancy kink, baby trapping, (reader is sorta willing? brainwashing ig? )

Best Friend! Geto who's always been there for you, taking care of you and always being your safe place ever since you were kids♡

Best Friend! Geto who, unbeknownst to you, has been the reason you've never had a boy approach you. While you cry to him and seek him out for comfort, he can't help but smile while patting your back, cooing at your woes knowing he's threatened or beat any boy that even thought of talking to you.

Best Friend! Geto who takes you everywhere with him, parties, social events, the grocery store, doesn't matter. While you think it's sweet, he sees it as laying it out to everyone that you belong to him.

Best Friend! Geto who's secretly been pushing down the dominos in your life to make it easier for you to lean on him and depend on him. You lost your job recently? You poor baby, something will come up eventually. Rent is too high for you to pay now? Don't worry babygirl, your sweet best friend just bought a really nice apartment next to the bakery you love so much, just move in with him for a while until you can get your bearings. Your clothes keep going missing? That's odd, he'll just take you to buy some new ones. It's not weird he asks you to try them on for him, he brought you here didn't he? It's the least you can do for sweet Geto.

Best Friend! Geto who decides that you should stay with him permanently shortly after moving in. Didn't you see on the news the other day about the crazy man in the area? Sweet little things like you might get hurt, just let him protect you.

Best Friend! Geto who sneaks into your room in the apartment at night, softly laying beside you and hugging your plush form, skimming his big hands over your silk pajama shorts he bought you and rubbing your little clit through them. The tea he brought you earlier had something in it to help you sleep better while he gets to play with you for a little bit.

Best Friend! Geto who starts talking to you more about children, mentioning the ones he saw in the park, cooing at the little pairs of onesies in the store, rubbing your back and mentioning how good of a mother you'd be, oblivious to the obvious suggestions being made.

Best Friend! Geto who finally manages to suggest(force) you to go on a date with him, it's his birthday after all! Why don't you just do this little thing for him?♡

Best Friend Boyfriend! Geto who is now your significant other, and is arguably even sweeter than he was before. Always giving you words of affirmation, kissing you, taking you everywhere with him, showing you off♡See how much nicer this is? He should have done this sooner, but at least his plan is finally coming all together.

Boyfriend! Geto who feels like he's loosing his mind the first time he fucks you, spending hours just eating your sweet cunt like it's his last meal, moaning and gripping your thighs so tight you're sure you'll have bruises by tomorrow. It's not surprising that he's your first everything, and boy is he large. When he presses his fat tip up to your unclaimed hole, you begin to rethink about what's happening but before you can do that, your sweet Geto is already cooing at you, thumbing your clit and rubbing at your plush love handles, saying "I know baby, you can take it sweet girl, let me ease in okay?"

Boyfriend! Geto who pounds you into that soft mattress until sunrise, pouring load after load into your sore, weeping hole. It's only 2 weeks after this event that you realize neither one of you even considered protection, and how you're routinely throwing up in the morning.

Boyfriend! Geto who holds you close and shushes you gently, rubbing your back as you weep into his broad chest at the 2 positive lines that appeared on every single one of the tests you took. He coos at you, wiping your tears and telling you that "it'll be okay baby, we got this. I'm not going anywhere." Not knowing that this is exactly what he wanted to happen, almost leaping for joy when you presented all 4 of the positive tests to him.

Boyfriend Husband! Geto, who quickly put a ring on your finger not a month after you found out you were pregnant. Having a small little ceremony in your new house's backyard, he almost fell to the ground and wept when he saw you walk down the cute little aisle your friends assembled together for the occasion.

Husband! Geto, who couldn't be happier that you're finally his now, all wifed up with a chunky little baby with a black mop of hair identical to his on your lap, waiting for your postpartum to pass so he can yet again pump a baby into his sweet little wife.

Husband! Geto, who you've belonged to all this time, you just hadn't noticed. But now, you're officially all his, now and forever.

(Okay so this turned out way fluffier and sweeter than I intended but ig that isn't a bad thing?? 😭 )

had fun sketching these!

Open that door 🗣️

Yet another hybrid! This is the Thunderous Thrasher, a Hybrid of a Skrill and a Stormcutter! Info under the cut!

Keep reading

I’m making a silly power point for a college event, I think you guys will like what I have so far

Am I putting in more effort than I should? Probably.

My Favorite Characters from the entire franchise

Daggers & Daffodils Master List

Dagur x Reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

[More chapters coming soon]

Taglist

~~~~

@demogorgon-master1

@mj-jabami

@alicee-carter

@amearla

A Gift from the Gods (5)

Hiccup x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: None that I can think of

Previous Chapter .~.~. Next Chapter

“Can you stretch your left wing a bit more?”

The voice belonged to Hiccup, who stood behind you while drawing in a sketchbook. Following his directions silently, you lift your left wing as prompted while your gaze remains on the wall ahead of you. It had been four days since you’d been taken to Dragon’s Edge and decided to stay as long as the dragon riders would let you.

The first two days were rough in terms of getting accustomed to being around other people after years of being surrounded only by dragons. You mainly stuck by Hiccup’s side, finding his presence the most comforting of the dragon riders. It also helped that Toothless seemed to be growing fond of you.

The others were still curious about you and your existence, except for Astrid, who remained cautious since your arrival. She never talked to you besides a few words here and there, sticking to watching you from the sidelines as if expecting an attack from you at any second.

You understood where her feelings were coming from. This group was her pack. You’ve seen dragons kill others to protect their pack when they felt it was being threatened.

Snotlout and the twins were still an enigma to you, especially the twins. Snotlout was loud and crass, saying words that made your stomach churn uncomfortably and your heckles rise. The twins were a mystery, always showing up when you least expected them and causing your fight or flight to kick in. You’ve accidentally hit Tuffnut with your wings a few times out of shock. He seemed to weirdly like the pain.

Besides Hiccup, Fishlegs was one that you were slowly growing accustomed to. While touring the island, he realized you didn’t know the names of dragon species when he heard you call a wild monstrous nightmare a ‘Flame.’ He decided then and there that he would teach you these things from something called “The Book of Dragons.” His teachings started a day ago.

Now, here you stood outside Hiccup’s hut, wings spread and standing still as Hiccup drew you in his sketchbook with surprising accuracy. Toothless lay off to the side, beginning to doze off as he watched the movements of his rider.

He circles around you, getting a viewpoint of your wings from all angles, soon stopping behind you. While keeping your gaze on the wall, the silence of the room is occasionally interrupted by Hiccup’s muttering or the sound of charcoal against the paper.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you can feel Hiccup’s presence behind you, his eyes observing every detail of your wings as if he didn’t want to miss a single one. Your body tenses when Hiccup suddenly steps closer to you from behind, mumbling even more to himself as if he didn’t realize what he had done.

The skin on the back of your neck raises in goosebumps as you feel his breath dance across it.

“Incredible.” Hiccup mutters to himself as he observes your wings, and your stomach can’t help but flutter with pride at his words. He thought your wings were incredible. Hiccup sketches silently for a few more minutes, focused so intently on getting every detail right that he didn’t notice how he was leaning ever so closer.

An unknown feeling blooms in your chest as you can feel him get closer, but your gaze stays directed to the wall, afraid that even moving an inch would pop the atmospheric bubble you had found yourself in.

You were always told to protect yourself from people who weren’t in your clan. You were told they saw your people as monsters, demons that needed to be slain. This was proved by the slaughtering of your family. So much bloodshed and loss because of the wings bestowed upon them by the Gods themselves.

You knew the dangers of people. That’s why you lived in a secluded forest surrounded only by dragons for years upon years.

Hiccup shattered that belief in only a few days… and you let him.

Your muddled thoughts were sharply interrupted by the feeling of fingers grazing softly over your wings. The touch is so featherlight that you wouldn’t have felt it without the years of learning to hone in on your senses during your time in the forest. Your body reacts before you can even think, turning quickly to face Hiccup and barely managing to fold your wings back so they wouldn’t smack him.

The pink welt on his cheek that you gave him was just starting to heal. It would’ve been a shame to give him another one.

Toothless perks his head up, torn out of his dazed state into an alert one at how swiftly you had moved.

Hiccup’s green eyes were wide with shock as he stared down at you, his hand still slightly outstretched to where your wing previously was. Your eyes stare back, torn between a harsh glare for suddenly touching you and a silent plea for more. That last part scared you more than anything. Your senses were becoming overwhelmed too quickly once again, and you wanted nothing more than to flee.

Noticing this, Hiccup scrambles to find a way to fix his mistake and hopefully calm your nerves.

“Flight!”

His sudden shout causes your body to flinch, but you do freeze, his loud voice stunning you into place. Hiccup quickly clears his throat, having not expected his voice to come out that loud in his desperate search for a way to shift the tension. His hand gestures to Toothless, who stares at Hiccup with a confused look from his shouting.

“Let’s… Let’s go for a flight.”

The words come out quickly but are in a softer tone than the one before. You gaze between Hiccup and Toothless, the dragon just as confused as you were, but his words do calm your nerves. Even just a little bit.

It had been a while since you’d been flying, sticking mainly to the ground while taking in your new surroundings. Looking back at Hiccup, you give him a slight nod in response to his suggestion. It was about time you spread your wings anyway.

—

The wind surrounds your body as you soar through the sky, your wings spread behind you and occasionally flapping to keep you upright. To your left, Toothless does the same with Hiccup perched upon his back.

The flight was silent between the two of you. Your gaze mainly focused ahead, and you managed to miss Hiccup stealing glances your way. Your eyes slowly close at the feeling of the wind on your face, a relaxed look overcoming your features as you fly beside Toothless.

This was where you belonged. High above the clouds without a care in the world.

Hiccup watches you as you fly with your eyes closed, observing how tranquil you look. A sudden smack from Toothless’ ear fin brings the teen back to his senses, glaring down silently towards the dragon, who looks back at him with a smug look.

“Not a word.” He mumbles to Toothless before looking back toward you, freezing when you are nowhere in sight. His head whips around, his eyes looking over the tops of the clouds as he tries to find where you have gone. A shout of excitement cuts through the air, causing him to look up towards the source of the sound, and a small smile invades his lips at what he finds.

You had flown a bit higher before outstretching your arms and letting your body freefall. Your body whizzes past Toothless, who watches you curiously as you soon disappear back under the clouds.

Without much thinking, Hiccup gently pats the side of Toothless’ neck, the dragon giving a confused sound at his action, which quickly turns into a roar when Hiccup jumps off of Toothless’ back towards you.

Your eyes had barely fluttered open before they widened in shock at Hiccup freefalling beside you. Fear courses through your veins at the sight, but Hiccup gives you an ever-widening grin. Before you can process it, Hiccup shoves his hands into something attached to his legs and spreads his arms.

A laugh of shock leaves your lips at the sight as you spread your wings to slow your falling into a glide. Hiccup had some type of fabric attached from his wrists to his legs, and his own body had lurched to a glide beside your own. Remaining with your back to the ground, Hiccup maneuvered his body to glide above you, his eyes sparkling in excitement as your smile slowly began to match his own.

With seconds feeling like hours, your eyes remain locked as you both glide together below the clouds.

Taglist: @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @millie--billie @persipeoni

Pretty cow hybrid reader who's just so cute and precious that the big strong farmers taking care of her can't help but grab her plush body and fuck her on all their cocks 🥺 she gets so tired that they gotta work together to move her back and forth and up and down on whoever's cock is filling her up 🥺

Oh my god. How could you do this to me

CW: fem reader, cow hybrids, smut, ovulation/heat cycles, breeding, gangbang, double penetration in vagina, borderline bestiality? maybe petplay?? Furry content??? I have no clue how to tag this sksksk it's a mess but it's my mess

Naurrrr bc that's so cute 😖 thinkin bout the big strong farm hands who always look after you, keeping you groomed and well fed. Maybe you're a show cow, going to fairs and cattle shows and winning prizes for your beauty 🥺 your owners treasure you so much, they want the absolute best for their pretty cow girl, and ofc that includes the best care!! You get 24/7 care from a handful of workers who love you to bits 🥰

You're such a good girl that the farmhands don't have to fret too much about you. Occasionally you'll wander somewhere you shouldn't, but one of the guys will lead you back to your pasture without any trouble. You're such a sweetie, always rubbin your cheek against em, silently asking for pets or a yummy treat like an apple or sugar cube. Sometimes they share a beer together at the end of the night and you're laying right beside em, tail flicking happily while one of them pets behind your ears. They're all so good to you and you're so good to them... in so many ways

The first time it happened was an accident, they swear!! You were going into heat for the first time, squirming and moaning, calling out for a mate, for a bull hybrid to come breed you. Your handlers felt so bad for you, they hated keeping you cooped up in your barn stall like that, but they didn't wanna risk any outsiders coming in and hurting you!! They saw how much you were suffering and they didn't want to leave you alone during such a rough time, so they elected on taking shifts with you, staying in your pen and keeping you company.

God... what a bad idea that was.

You were fine at first, pacing your pen, occasionally going to a corner and whining, hips grinding against the air for some kind of friction. The first handler thought you looked delicious, but you were like a pet! He couldn't think about you that way! So he kept himself occupied with a hobby he brought. The second guy couldn't keep his eyes off you, but he kept his hands to himself, adjusting his aching cock every now and then but not acting on his desires, that would be going too far.

The third guy... the third guy was weak 😔 he followed the advice of the first two men, keeping his distance, keeping his mind preoccupied, but you were just too cute! You kept giving him these puppy dog eyes and snuggling close, and each time he gave you pets you would moan. Eventually you ended up presenting to him, physically begging to get fucked and oh god your chubby pussy was so cute and hot and you were dripping wet and it looked so nice and inviting...

The other farmhands came running when they heard you moaning louder, practically screaming. They came in to find the third handler fucking you from behind, his hands barely able to hold onto your plush wide hips. For a moment they were distracted by the loud slapping of his hips against yours, but they came to their senses and pulled him off, scolding him for taking advantage of you, threatening to beat him to death if he ever touched an angel like you again—

But then you started whining, damn near sobbing as you pushed your hips up into the air and wiggled them, grabbing all of their attention.

"P-Please... 's so hot... it hurts..."

They hesitated, looking at each other, unsure. The last thing they wanted to do was see you suffer, but they worried that they'd be crossing a line by giving you the help you needed. They stepped aside for a moment, huddling and whispering to each other before returning to you.

"What's the matter, baby? Where's it hurt?" You spread your legs farther apart, reaching between your legs, hand crawling over your fupa as you gestured towards your clenching hole.

"H-Here... it-it itches..."

"Yeah?" another one asks, his cock straining against his overalls. "Do you want us to try and make you feel better?"

"Yes!! Please!!" you cried, hiccuping. "Need your help, need it so bad, please, it's too much—"

They shushed you, petting along your soft fur to soothe you. One of the men cautiously moved his hand to your cunt, gliding his thumb between your chubby pussy lips before pressing down on your aching clit.

You cried out, and all their restraint left them.

They take turns inside of you, filling up your weeping cunt, trying to quell your desires. They run their hands over your hips, your legs, your plush tummy and arms, squeezing your tits. One of them audibly wonders if they could get you pregnant and make your tits fill up with milk, and the rest can't stop thinking about it. Even when you're out of energy, you still beg for more, beg for them to fill you up and give you calves. It makes them all the more aroused :( they try several positions, on your hands and knees, on your back, legs in the air or around their waist. Their favorite was when two of them stuffed your pussy, filling you up so well you squirted all over them. They praise you the whole time, calling you their good girl, their sweet girl, pretty girl, pretty baby, angel, princess, their words like thick molasses, drowning you in the love you deserved.

By the time you're all done, the group of men are drained and braindead while you're curled up in a pile of hay, sleeping soundly, a content grin on your lips.

They agree to never do this again, to keep you at a distance the next time you go into heat, to protect you and keep you safe. They never keep their promise, always caving in when you beg them so prettily to fill you up, to breed you. You still want a baby, you want their babies, you wanna give your sweet handlers a calf or two. And you're just so sweet and pretty, they can never really resist you :( it's always a group activity, and you always wear them down to practically nothing.

Your farmhands start getting over protective with time, bordering on possessive. Your owners think about getting a bull hybrid so that the two of you can make a few babies, but your handlers convince them not to. The last thing you need is for some huge raging bull to come in and tear you apart. He'd be so careless with you, not caring about your wants or needs, driven only by his pleasure and need to breed you. Poor thing, you'd never survive a bull hybrid!! They're too big, too strong, a bull hybrid's cock would rip you in half and they wouldn't even care.

But it's alright dear, your handlers always have your best interest at heart and would never let anything bad happen to you. You're their prized heifer, their special girl, and they'd go to the moon and back to make you happy 💕 you can always count on them to keep your best interests at heart

**Ahem ehem** slides over 5 boxes of sweets more cow reader content pls:D

Yall're gonna make me gain 20lbs i swear

CW: fem cow hybrid reader (reader has breasts and a vagina), bull hybrids, F/M/M/M/M, smut, pet names, vaginal sex, double penetration, handjobs, oral (male receiving), creampies, cumshots

───────────────

"Y/N~" cooed one of the bulls as he slipped beside you. "Where ya goin?"

"To the field," you replied, pointing to the pasture behind the barn.

"Mmm, what're ya gonna do out there?"

"Dunno," you shrugged. "Maybe take a nap. It's really nice out today."

"Mmhm, it is. I'll come with you. Pretty thing like you shouldn't be out there on your own." You laughed breathily, brushing him off. You knew what he was trying to do.

"Ah, you don't have to. I'll be okay, I'm just going to that tree over there."

"But that's so faaaaar. I'll miss you if you go that far away." His hand found your waist, giving your soft flesh a squeeze. "Cmon, lemme go with you and keep you company."

"Oi." The two of you turned to see another one of the bulls approaching you. "He botherin you, sweetcheeks?"

"N-No..."

"Yeah right. He's trynna get you alone, huh?"

"Was not."

"Was to. It's fuckin obvious yer trynna keep her to yerself."

"Fellas, fellas," called out the third bull as he came back into the barn. "No fightin, not in front of Y/N. Yall promised to share."

"Yeah," chimed in the fourth bull as he snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. "This heifer is all of ours, not just yours, 'kay?" The first and second bulls huffed, crossing their arms, looking away. The third bull sucked his teeth, smacking the other two's shoulders.

"Lighten up. Yall agreed to this last week. Quit poutin and suck it up."

"Hmm so where were ya headed, Y/N?" the fourth asked.

"Out to the field... u-under the tree. I was gonna take a nap."

"Yeah? Why dontcha take a nap in here, pretty?" He pressed his hips into your backside, his cock twitching against your ass. "We could all take a nap together."

"I dunno... I kinda wanted to take a nap alone..."

"Whaaaat? Why's that? Dontcha wanna cuddle with us, princess?" asked one.

"I-I do, but—"

"But nuthin, baby girl. Let's all sleep here. We can cuddle up in here where it's nice and cool, don't that sound nice?"

"I dunno..."

"Come oooooon, Y/N," cooed another. "Let's go to bed in here, have a nice lil nap before dinner."

You weren't given the chance to choose: the four bulls were already dragging you along to your pen, surrounding you on all sides.

"So... who do ya wanna sleep next to?"

"Um—"

"She's sleepin by me."

"And me."

"Now hold on, yall got to sleep next to her last night! We should have a turn."

"Yeah."

"Y/N likes sleeping by me the most, dontcha, pretty?"

"Well—"

"Shut up, you don't know shit!"

"Look who's talkin!"

"W-Wait!" you shouted, grabbing all of their attention. "Please don't fight, it makes me sad. I hate when you guys fight..."

The four bulls softened at that, sighing and glancing at each other.

"We're sorry, baby."

"Yeah, we didn't mean to upset you."

"We just... we all just like you so much."

"Yeah, and we just wanna spend time with you."

"We're sorry."

"I forgive you," you muttered, "just don't do it anymore, okay?"

"Okay, princess."

"We promise to do better."

"Okay... thank you."

"You don't gotta thank us, sweetcheeks."

"Yeah, we should be thanking you."

"...What for?"

"For lettin us do this." The bull behind you cupped your tits, giving them a gentle squeeze. You gasped, tensing under his touch.

"W-What?!"

"Mmm, yeah, and for this." Another bull reached out, cupping your pussy in his large hand, grinding his palm against you.

"W-Wait! You said we'd take a nap!"

"We will, we will."

"But we can have some fun first, can't we?"

One bull grabbed your ass, another ran his hand over his stomach. Their big hands started roaming your body, kneading your plush flesh. You whined, squirming under their touch.

"Aww, look at her."

"She's so cute."

"Just wanna eat you up, princess."

"Wanna spoil you."

"Wanna make you feel good."

Before you knew it, you were maneuvered into one's lap, his thick cock prodding at your cunt. Two of them slowly lowered you down onto his cock, the third one kissing you and swallowing your moans. Once you adjusted to the first, you felt another bull behind you, his fat cock prodding at your cunt as well, stretching your poor hole.

"W-Wait! I can't fit two of you!"

"Cmon, baby, let's just try."

"Bet it'll feel soooo good, pretty."

"Lemme just—"

The head of his cock popped inside of you, making you gasp. You scratched at the bull's shoulders below you, moaning as the second bull pushed in slowly, filling you to the brim. You whined once his hips met yours, feeling sooo full.

"There, look at that. It fit just fine."

"Ahh... I-I can't do this—"

"Shhh, just breathe baby. This'll feel so good in a minute."

The two bulls pulled out, pushing back in and making you gasp for air. They started slow, pumping in and out of you, taking your breath away with each thrust.

"Hey, cmon, sweetcheeks. Ya got two hands, dontcha?"

The other two bulls guided your hands to their hard cocks, coaxing you to wrap your fingers around them and start jerking them off. The four of them rocked against you slowly, low moans filling the room as they used you for their pleasure. One of them starting rubbing your clit, another one rubbed your nipples. You became a moaning mess within minutes, gasping and whining as they filled you up your cunt and hands. One of them gently turned your face towards his cock, pushing the head past your lips. You sucked the head of his cock for a minute before the other bull pulled you off, directing your head towards his own cock and pushing it into your mouth.

You didn't know how long it all lasted or how many times you came. All you knew was that you were feeling such an intense pleasure that you were on the verge of tears.

"Oh god—"

"Shit, gonna..."

"Me too."

"Gonna cum in you, baby."

"Gonna cum on your face."

"You want it baby?"

"Want our cum?"

"Beg us for it, princess."

"Beg for our cum."

You were feeling faint, but somehow you managed to form words.

"P-Please! Cum in me, cum on me! Want it, want it so bad! Give it to me, please, please!"

"Aw fuck—"

"Atta girl—"

"Gonna give it to ya real good—"

"Open wide, sweetcheeks—"

You barely processed what happened next. All you knew was that you felt fuller, and warm liquid spilled on your face and chest. Loud moans and groans filled the barn, almost deafening. Hands smoothed over your skin, wiping your face as they pulled their cocks out of you. You felt kisses on your cheeks as you wiped your eyes, whispers of love and praise filling your ears.

"Such a good girl."

"So proud of you."

"Thank you, princess."

"Made us feel so good."

"Always feel so good with you."

"Love you, baby."

"So fucking much."

Moments passed, and suddenly you were being moved again, onto another bull's lap.

"Now it's my turn to be inside that pretty little cunt."

"Me too!"

"Wanna feel your mouth, baby."

"Just lick me real quick, pretty, that's all I want."

You were in for a long night.

───────────────