ａｓｓａｓｓｉｎ 〉 酒呑童子。 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
osake) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
jigokulogs2022-06-20 09:40 pm
osake) wrote in jigokulogs2022-06-20 09:40 pm
Entry tags:
(closed) pressed against my lips
Who ⬤ shuten-douji & Others
What ⬤ closed june event prompts
When ⬤ june event
Where ⬤ various
Content Warnings ⬤ shuten, horror, varying levels of blood and gore, will continue to update
What ⬤ closed june event prompts
When ⬤ june event
Where ⬤ various
Content Warnings ⬤ shuten, horror, varying levels of blood and gore, will continue to update
- feel free to pm me or hit me up over on
Blood rain event
She'd arrived at the place where she and Shuten lived by instinct. That terrible, fearful night at Rashomon, that woman, Shuten being taken from her. All of it ending a rage that eventually left her tired, without thought, and drenched.
She wanted to be somewhere warm and soft. A place safe that she could fill her belly and laugh and have fun in.
This, clinging to a wall underneath an awning, is not fun. It doesn't fill her belly and did little against the chill. She gave a barely stifled sniffle. Looking lost, confused, and feeling like she had when all of everybody had....]
Mm....
[She sat near the stairs, knees huddled to her chest. So close....]
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if there's one thing she won't abide, even for her dear partner, her master, anyone — it's losing herself.
the weight of the blood soaking her clothing reminds her of the reality of that dam bursting, and just as she returns ... she sees her. those dark horns, even in the miasmatic haze of hell's weather, protrude like a beacon. from the street of their apartment, she approaches, voice low for what her sharp violet eyes can already read off the other oni's form. ]
Ibaraki.
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The sound of a familiar voice helps to break through that cloud.
A sense of familiar comfort enters her. It was another trick, wasn't it? Another cruel trick to hurt her. Stupid rain, stupid curses... it made her blood boil for a moment. Only a moment as she turns her head to look up at a very much alive Shuten. One soaked in blood, but Shuten, it's Shuten, alive. She can smell her through it all. Her partner, sweet, marvelous Shuten.]
...Sh-Shuten?
[She swallows hard, looking worried, frightened, sad, relieved, and a slew of other emotions.]
You're... alive....
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[ "you're alive."
it all fits together perfectly, like the clicking of a wooden puzzle; instant, neat. the rain lifted one's nightmares from the mind, rising from one's terror like steam as it hits cold ground.
it isn't hard to guess what ibaraki might have seen.
she smiles in her usual way: aloof, mysteriousness in the cant of her head, her hair heavy with thick blood. ]
Did you have a bad dream? ... Come, let's go inside and get cleaned up.
[ that is, if ibaraki is able to move on her own. ]
dives for!
No- even that cursed blood seemed to make her all the more beautiful and perfect in Ibaraki's eyes. But Ibaraki's eyes could still see it all, a body without a head. A head cradled in her arms as that one, butterfly woman, led her away.]
A-ah... right... let's-
[She lets out a shuddering breath and slowly stands on shaking, aching legs. It was difficult, she was weak yet again. Only this time from the mental wounds she's sustained, as opposed to anything truly physical. But Ibaraki is also supposed to be the leader, the strong oni among oni.
So, she stands and forces herself to move through will.
She nearly stumbles, and does reach a hand out to place itself on Shuten. Something to grasp hold of to make sure she doesn't vanish.]
-let's go inside.
no subject
should she allow ibaraki to shoulder that burden quietly, bravado her way through it, or should she voice that which, in her mind, hardly needs to be voiced?
they both know what happened; they both lived it, and both relived it. the circumference of her throat still burns underneath her collar.
she frowns. ]
Ibaraki.
[ they make it up the stairs before shuten stops. then: ]
... Are you alright?
no subject
Solid.
In one piece.]
Of course, I am! Why ask such a thing Shuten-?
[Three eyes looked down from that beautiful face, lower to beneath the dark stains that dirtied Shuten's skin.
Down towards her neck.
Ibaraki's expression falters.]
...I'm fine- really! Just fine...
[More grasping and groping at her. A tinge of red filled her gold eyes. She's fine, she's absolutely fine!
Her fangs bit down and chewed on her cheeks, filling her senses with the taste and smell of fresh blood.]
no subject
just past a couple worn doors, red paint peeling and peepholes filled with the frightened and shrinking eyes of their youkai neighbors, and they would be home-free. the scent of blood borders on nauseating at this point; even an oni who once drank and bathed in the viscera of her victims would grow weary of too much of a good thing. pitter-pattering on corrugated roofs, hitting hot asphalt, the red pouring from the sky smells and feels different, too, from the crimson reward they'd imbibe from the heian populace.
her neck burns the longer they remain. still, she stops.
shuten turns to face ibaraki, brushing away from the fiery hand grasping at her — and catching it with hers. her voice comes as a whisper, barely audible above the hush of the rain, warming the space between them. ]
Are you afraid to tell me?
[ one palm cradles ibaraki's, while the fingers of her other thread through the folds of fabric at her partner's hip, pulling her in. ]
Then you don't have to. But ... just look.
[ shuten straightens, opening the frame of ibaraki's line of sight to the red-grey scenery behind her. ]
The world is falling apart all around us. If Hell can collapse and weep like this, you can afford to do the same ... just this once.
no subject
So much of it all crashing down around them in the form of crimson rain.
Then Shuten pushed her hand away, alarming Ibaraki. Had she been too clingy again? Had she bored her? Was the other oni going to go away? She didn't want her too she didn't- ah!]
I'm not afraid of telling you anything!
[She protested, even so her hands quickly folded into Shuten's. Pressing in against and seeking out the open and accepting contact once more. Leaning into it and finding comfort in her palm. She is afraid, and worried.
And how can she not be?
But the feeling of a second hand placing itself on Ibaraki's hip filled her with more comfort, the warm contact and touch of those familiar fingers pulling her into them as they grasp at her stained, yellow garments.]
I'm not- I can't....
[Her words were caught in her throat and choked her. Ibaraki doesn't want to admit to it, and didn't feel like she should. But she does as her eyes are made to sweep across the city with Shuten's words mixing in. A sniffle ensues followed by her placing another hand on her partner's sleeve. Gripping it weakly and head bowing down lower as the floodgates began to open.]
...I saw it all again. And I- you! You were... gone. Again, I carried you and...
[She began to ramble.]
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she died long ago, and nothing could — nothing would go differently the second time, or any time after that. that scene replays for the both of them because it's embedded in every soul present that night, the natural conclusion of their characters clashing. an inevitability.
what could have changed?
it's a question she's never asked aloud, never pondered more than a moment's fancy. much less is it one she's ever thought to answer except in a firm, decisive ... "nothing."
but ibaraki has answered that question for herself. toraguma for himself.
their regret is far too human for her, like a god in the cloudy mountains, to comprehend.
one hand rises to stroke the back of ibaraki's hair, guiding the oni, slightly taller, to bury herself against her. her voice is soothing silk, like singing nursery rhymes. ]
Shhh, shhh. ... I know.
[ she does. she really does. ]
We're both here, though ... see? Ibaraki. I'm here.
[ she takes both of ibaraki's red, trembling hands then, and slowly lifts them. she brings them, however loose or tight their grasp, around her throat, stained with blood but intact, vertebrae attached to vertebrae and muscle to muscle. underneath her collar lies the jagged scar from where her head was once separated from her neck, and were it anyone else in the world, she may have hesitated, even imperceivably, to allow someone to touch it. ]
... Feel it? It's still there ... right?
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It was almost poetic that she would find herself here, now. Shaking and quivering. Not knowing what to do with the floodgates breaking down.
Just pressing herself in further and further into Shuten. Clinging to her so she wouldn't vanish again. Leaning into her as the fingers combing through her hair, and soothing voice brought her into a comforting lull.
Ah- she was making a mess on Shuten. Tears began to flow freely as Shuten took her hands in her own. Bringing them up to her neck. To that scar of hers. Her thumbs traced along. Black nails dragging gently across her pale skin. The whole meaning behind the action hadn't been lost on her.
Nor was the feeling or touch of Shuten herself. The way her pulse pushed her blood through her. How her chest and esophagus expanded and contracted with each breath. The vibrations of her voice.
She is still here.]
You- mmph... you're still here.
[She breathed out, failing to hold back a hiccup. Ibaraki felt weak, she hated that. But it was fine, Shuten is here. Even if the oni herself didn't understand it. It meant all the more for Ibaraki to feel her, smell her, see her.]
We're both- we're both still here...!
[She looked up at Shuten then. Tears streaking her cheeks and hands still holding onto her, still in Shuten's grasp.]
I- I couldn't... I ran- I was scared...! And you- you and the others....
[More shuddering, more sobbing and mewls as she gave in and surrendered to her feelings. Letting it out and finding solace in being in Shuten's presence.]
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briefly, she wonders if toraguma, too, could be so tender.
ibaraki breaks to pieces in her arms and shuten watches with a quiet, sympathetic frown — understanding but not sharing that soul-eating regret.
she holds ibaraki as best she can, pulling her in closer and smoothing her hair in a slow, gentle rhythm. again, shuten's voice is a whisper, dissipating before it leaves the small space between them. ]
Shhh. It's alright, Ibaraki.
[ to the tune of i forgive you. ]
It's over, now. That's all over now.
[ for better or for worse, it is. ]
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Even as Ibaraki herself attempted to reject them. Or put up the front of rejecting them. And failing. Her shoulders shook, she trembled even as her sobs began to slow and her breathes came in deeper, more controlled.
An attempt to calm her anxieties, even as the itch of anger, fear, worry, and broken sorrow continued to fill her. Ibaraki hated it all, she wanted to rage, to lash out- but her touch remained tender. She remained grounded. Because Shuten is here.
She could feel her, she could experience her through all of her senses. It was all over and all alright.
Her head was splitting now from the overexertion of emotions pouring through her. But it was fine, Shuten's soothing voice made it all feel better. Her hands and touch... Ibaraki reached up, slowly, trembling, to cup her partner's cheek. Leaning into her and pressing the other hand gently around the back of her neck.
Holding her in kind.]
It's fine... it's fine... you're fine.
no subject
without the sun in the sky to tell them otherwise, without the moon in the clouds for company, time feels frozen here. a liminal pocket — an undesignated moment a long, long time from the nightmares that formed in the crimson reflections. the sound of hot blood washing over the city flows with ibaraki's steadying breath. ]
It's lucky that you found me ... isn't it?
[ that simple phrase, the near-rhetorical nature of it, is laced with meaning, referencing three times they've met, thus far.
once, here, now. it's good they found each other in the melting chaos around them, in the end. that they didn't succumb to it enough to lose their head, their arm, their heart again before they could reconnect. for as long as they had their lives, they could recover.
as long as they had their lives.
twice, in their second life, as servants summoned under the same human master. "what would you have done without me," she chides, teases inwardly. if they hadn't reunited as heroic spirits, if ibaraki had answered the call of humanity on her own, how would she be faring now?
and lastly — no, firstly — the very first time they met.
shuten wonders, sometimes, if ibaraki ever regrets it. if in the crimson of her palm she sees the blood spilled that night — if she blame herself for bringing shuten to the mountaintop palace where she would eventually lose her head. ]
It's not your fault.
[ that, too. in case she needed it. ]
Let's go home, now.
🩸🩸🩸
—Hah, she thinks.
No place is safe now.
She finds herself further within the marketplace— stalls filled with heavy baskets and jugs lining the streets before her. Carefully shaped mounds of spices and rice greet her as she searches for signs of trapped life— souls unable to brave the rain and hiding within the crevices of the city for shelter. Other stands contain bootleg merchandise, toys, accessories, appliances— everything anyone could need to get for cheap, now completely abandoned.
Shinobu steps forward in a row between the stalls, looking down to find a dirtied doll in her path. She bends low to pick it up, her thumb swiping across its face.
...
She lowers her gaze and becomes still.
Someone is here... but where?
Where are you?]
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no, because he never did let her rest. even the revenge she exacted wasn't as violently direct as she would have liked. she was glad to die before it was over.
but is a curse that stiffens one's spine like a puppeteer's hand truly more merciful than one that bears down on the shoulders, one that buckles the knees?
the apartment isn't far when it happens, but she doesn't make it. the constant torrent disrupts her senses, makes her vision spin, and as she finally collapses in the avenues of the abandoned marketplace, she thinks she sees that crimson moon in a puddle between cracked asphalt.
it's hard to breathe — hot, thick, and her neck sears painfully, painfully. on her knees, the rain collecting along her pale calves, shuten shuts her eyes, and wraps her fingers around her collar. behind her, her small shadow gathers the others around it, growing steadily. ]
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It's a strange muddled thought that occurs to Shinobu again and again as she diligently looks for stragglers that were unable to escape the reddened downpours from earlier. She must be thinking of them— which would make the most sense since they were all assigned to rescue the civilians nearby. She must be thinking of those that are still lost within the shadows of the city.
It's what she resolves within herself as she skids to a stop at the edge of the marketplace and sees a familiar sleek shape curled on the ground.
Two prominent horns stand out among everything else and the sudden impulse to reach for her sword is almost instant at this point. There's an almost instinctive urge to suddenly pin the blame on the woman she sees before her— she was collecting haniwa, after all. She collected them, stole them— broke one for her own selfish entertainment—
—and yet, as much as she'd like to blame her, Shinobu knows this is part of something larger than themselves.
Rescue those trapped in the rain. That is your duty as an officer.
She presses her lips tight together, her expression morphing from distaste... to realization—
What is that—
With a swift step of her heel Shinobu darts behind a stall, peering just around its corner as the shadows build and take shape. Through the arid atmosphere and heavy presence of curses all around them she strains to see their forms... and waits to see exactly what it is she's up against.]
no subject
the shadows at her back take human shape, the only recognizable feature amongst them as they struggle to take shape — like they're meant to be formless, a collection of people approaching her from behind. one moment, it's a woman: tall, hair descending like a curtain, a quiver at her hip. she raises a long katana over her head, its bells chiming with finality.
thunder, real as the rain still pouring over her bent head, cracks in the clouds above. her expression is obscured by the veil of her hair, pulled all around her as she folds, still clasping her neck.
the next, it's a man: built and towering, hair like a wild mane untamed by its tie, flying off here and there as though lightning ran through it. he raises a jagged axe, high, high above his head, less like he'll strike with it, and more like he's pointing towards something, up in the sky.
thunder cracks again.
then the shadow envelops her, wraps around her legs and threatens to swallow her. it's like she doesn't realize, but her hands do move. they shift, from neck to head, palms over ears like she's blocking out sound.
but it's more forceful than that. she squeezes it there ...
... like she's trying to keep the weight of it on her neck.
she fights it. the shadows consuming her, the pattern they make around her neck like a deep cut.
then, the shadows change color. they turn a noxious, blinding mixture of disarming hues: green, red, yellow, pink, blue, purple. like it's poison, melting everything around her.
she stops struggling. her voice comes, muffled into the ground but dreamier than ever. through a part in her hair, the sliver of her smile is visible. ]
This is how ... it was always meant to happen, isn't it? It couldn't have been, any other way...
[ the poison sears her skin, it constricts around her collar. then, it cuts, and her neck begins to bleed. ]
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It was only natural, wasn't it? Humans were raised to fear the darkness, in forgotten corners and in the night— the time when the unknown and the unseen lurked about freely. They were taught to fear what they couldn't see, what could have been waiting for them in the shadows, ready to prey on those who knew no better.
Shinobu has not been afraid of the dark for some time, but now she feels a very real shiver crawling along her skin.
Perhaps it's because these shadows are so tangible, like wisps of squid's ink come to life. Perhaps it was also because the oni she had come to realize was so strong before... was now bent low and helpless to their onslaught.
Her eyes narrow as she watches the shapeshifting miasma wrap around the oni's neck.
Ah.
That's right.
Wasn't it... that the King of Mt. Ooe's downfall... was poisoned sake?
She was getting what she deserved. She was being forced to live through the moment when all her crimes would finally be laid out bare. It was poetry, it was righteous justice, and yet... she was biting her lip.
I still need to get back at her!
Shinobu's sandals scrape the hard ground as she appears from behind her corner and dashes. Her arm swings back and sends something flying towards the shadows, something large and bright, whistling as it soars—
—and promptly pierces the blackened veils above the oni.
Shinobu's precious stinger lands into the wall of one stand with a resonating thud. She parts her lips, inhales and lets her voice resonate with anger, with indignity and human pride.]
Shuten-douji!
[Ah, what a mess this is!]
no subject
the sound of her name from beyond the illusions startles her, but it isn't the weight of it that drags her out of the nightmare — no, because it's impossible to count the number of times warriors shouted, cursed her name just the same. it wasn't out of place in this recreation.
it's the girl's voice, familiar and yet not in it's sweet determination, that her name sounds shocking in.
she wakes up, wide-eyed and disoriented, with the shadows fended off to her middle ... but she doesn't move. not yet, and not for the fact that she can't, even with the darkness still waist-high, but for the inexplicable feeling ...
... that she should see this through. how can she ever escape that which was destined to happen?
the shadows slowly recover in that time, but shuten looks up at her would-be savior and smiles a tranquil sort of smile, carefree in the way she allows herself a bit of amusement in her final moments. ]
How unexpected.
[ for you of all people to be here. ]
Although ...
[ she shuts her eyes dreamily as the swirl of poisonous color begins to bleed through the black smoke again, spreading with its imagined potency. ]
Now that I think of it, I suppose it isn't really ... to have the poison woman loom over my final moments.
no subject
First comes the swell of fresh anger, so crisp and bright it may as well have been ice water drenched upon her shoulders. It awakens her senses and sends adrenaline rushing through her every limb— not that she'd need that extra boost to go as fast as she can.
Still, it helps to fend off the growing anxiety she feels as she nears those thick shadows. She grinds her teeth and raises an arm to block most of the noxious shadows away from her vision— a flash of butterfly wings against stormy clouds.]
How frustrating! [She scowls as she dives forward and lands right beside the oni within the cyclone of darkness.
Her body is still in motion, propelled forward by her momentum and she reaches to take the oni's wrist in hand before pulling her up to her feet.]
My name isn't poison woman! [Comes her voice again, alert and erring just on the side of annoyed as she begins to drag her along, bulldozing past the darkness, squinting as she struggles to move them both past a thick wall of what seems to be a looming figure standing in their way—] Ah!
[They break free— but only barely, and she barely manages to take hold of her sword's handle and dislodge it from the stand before pulling them both into a narrow aisle of abandoned stalls and carts.
She doesn't look behind them. She doesn't need to see if the darkness is pursuing— she only needs to run.]
no subject
the shadows, the noxious poison, any formless figures still attempting to create themselves from the darkness are all shattered like fine glass when the demon slayer snatches her away. for a second time, perhaps more raw than the first, shuten's expression breaks open, too, wide-eyed shock bringing life to a face that was preparing for death. if she was merely roused from the bad dream before, returning to its nightmarish embrace right after, then now she's yanked awake, awareness jerking her back with the motion of that hand on her wrist. ]
... ! You—
[ now she's conscious, and the reality of it all hits her like the grotesque teardrops of rain hitting her skin. it falls down her horns, her hair, her neck — and as they run, as the blood touches the cut along her collar, still bleeding, the illusion threatens to drag her back in once more.
the shadows coagulate again, nipping at her heels, vying for form as the rain smooths down her shoulders like grasping hands. ]
no subject
To even touch an oni so casually before all this would have been unthinkable. Now she grips that wrist like a lifeline, her haori facing the brunt of the thick bloody rain as she shields them as much as she's able. Her sandals slap hard against the bloody pavement and around them the crescendo of rain battering the tops of tents and buildings rises higher.
Beneath her sleeve Shinobu pants, her eyes barely straining to see a last flickering bulb in the distance. She jerks them towards it, diving beneath another weary tent before they enter a smaller alleyway with a door left ajar on its right. She leads them in and ducks into the building without thinking.
The sweet relief of dry air makes her sigh out as she finally lowers both her sword and her sleeve. Blood soaks the edges of her precious haori and the hems, but she finds she can only sag her shoulders and temper her breathing once more. Her heaving fills the quiet shop for a moment before she finally lifts her chin once more.
The fingers around the oni's wrist still and gently pull away.]
... my name is not poison woman. [She repeats, her voice softened with exhaustion. She keeps herself turned away from the oni, as though in some kind of disbelief at what she had just done.
Around them, pinned to the halls and lined on various counters, several plastic and ceramic eyes watch silently.]
... It's Shinobu. Kochou Shinobu.
And we ought to wait here for now. [A suggestion but a weighty one nonetheless.]
no subject
the shape of a butterfly hanging in the air, guiding her away.
like the shadows morphing in and out of existence, shuten's stability of mind shifts with the weight of the rain on her body, the sound of viscous liquid hitting glass, concrete, sloshing under their heels. the blackened, overcast sky illuminates nothing, but the glow of the city against sheets of red flash through her vision, taking turns with the darkness that blots all else. it's maddening—
— ... and it's over before long. everything mutes: the pitter-patter of blood outside muffles, the darkness dissipates, the air freshens, ever so much. as she crosses the threshold with that butterfly, the shadows themselves are left at the doorstep and instantly collapse into a crimson puddle, melding with the darkness of the world outside once again.
despite the haze of her mind, shuten is less winded, but she finds her heart racing nevertheless. her eyes remain slightly wide, absorbing her surroundings as they come back into reality. the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, the lines of masks (shuten finds herself lingering on the blue oni, the singular cool tint amidst all this red, red), and at the center of this picture — she's face to face with a butterfly, lilac hues, the demon slayer turned away from her.
she stares. she stares a long while, remembering her. their last encounters, her living, breathing humanity ... and her beautiful rage.
it takes her a moment to understand what the girl is saying, given all that's happened. shuten's slim shoulders rise and fall, ever so slightly, as she gathers her bearings, and as her soul, ancient, elusive, dangerous, fills her countenance with animation once again.
finally, her eyes narrow, and they glint in the yellowed light. ]
... Kochou ... Shinobu?
[ she elongates each syllable like an inhale, breathing it in like new life.
in a way, it is. the name of the woman who saved her from reliving her fate.
her neck still stings.
she comes to — her fangs decorate her crawling smile as she tilts her head. she's alive. ]
Fu, fufu ... Fufufufu...!
[ she steps closer, tone of floating giggles tapering off to a sudden seriousness. ]
... Why ... did you do that?
no subject
Her small hands curl into fists as that familiar chiming laughter climbs up her spine with spider-like ease. She can feel her presence unraveling like heavy threads, like the flow of something silky and soft pressed against her side.
With a slow breath she steps away— towards a large pile of unopened crates. With silent ease she turns and takes a seat on one of them, her lowered gaze slowly rising to meet the oni's eyes for the first time.
That piercing indigo truly does glow in the darkness. Her half-moon eyes lower again.]
Well, [Shinobu sighs as she takes one sleeve of her haori in hand and begins twisting the ends— black inky droplets of blood oozing from between her fingers. She scowls softly.] I suppose I could say it was an order, but that isn't nearly a good enough lie.
Not enough for me, at least. [As if she'd risk her own life to save an oni based on an order. An order not from someone she once admired.]
But instead of worrying about that... you should consider keeping an eye out, in case those things decided to follow us.
[She knows they won't, not while they're in here and no longer exposed to the rain. But anything was better than admitting to the fact that she saved her to get even.
Still— they really are stuck here now, aren't they?]
no subject
she doesn't take her eyes off the demon slayer all the while.
the way she props herself up on those crates in spite of the demon scanning her with bestial eyes like she were her next meal — it makes shuten smile all the wider. ]
What things?
[ what things indeed. does she truly not know ... or is that her way of saying that doesn't matter right now?
shuten continues stepping forward, closing in on the demon slayer. ]
You won't answer me, then?
[ the shop appears to be more workshop than store. it's cramped, the aisles barely wide enough for one person to peruse, closed in on all sides by iron racks of crates, some open with product, some not. the scent of wood and paint permeates throughout, wood ash dusting the shelves and floor.
(she never thought she'd get sick of the smell of blood, relieved at the perfume of cypress.)
still, she approaches, until her knees are nearly brushing with that uniform. ]
You have nothing to say for yourself ... after saving an oni like me? ... Kochou Shinobu.
[ she wipes more blood from her brow, tipping her head to peer into the girl's expression. thick crimson scatters over the wood dust. ]
Such a beautiful name. Almost too fitting ... for a poisonous flower like yourself.
no subject
She really should have known that the oni would make her regret her decision soon enough. It was by her own recklessness and pride that it had come to this and now she was paying that steep price. Still... she had her reasons. Her own vain, selfish reasons. And this oni didn't have any say in—]
—Ah. [She parts her lips as the twin oni decorations on Shuten's knees come into view. Her brow furrows as she listens and lets out a quiet scoff in reply. She looks up and regrets that she did. When Shuten was waist-deep in shadows she was merely a cornered maiden, a victim wrapped up in her own sins made tangible. Now... with blood as a dark backdrop for her gleaming eyes, steadily dripping as though she had bathed in it...
She truly looked like an oni now. Her eyes narrow slightly.]
...My reasons? I wouldn't expect an oni to understand them.
That's all. [She gives the ends of her haori a last squeeze before releasing the fabric. When she turns her hands over the skin is tinted red, from the tips of her fingers to the base of her wrist. From beneath her lashes she looks up at Shuten, her mouth slowly lifting into a patient smile.]
That aside, your name is rather impressive as well, Miss.
Ah, my apologies. [Her mouth softly whistle the words.] Shuten-douji.
Why don't we... [A pause. She smiles around her next words.] 'Start from scratch', hm?
Won't you simply accept that for now?
[Hah, she thinks. As if she would.]
no subject
a pillar of humanity, where no humans resided. ]
That's right. You know my name now. I suppose it was in fairness that you gave me yours.
[ how they fought for the privilege the first time they met. it's almost ironic how easily that precious information slipped out now.
after she croons those last words, her smile widens, sarcasm sharpening its edges. ]
... Fufu. You're a bad liar, you know. ... No. Or maybe I'm just getting used to them?
[ fairness, starting from scratch — noble ideas. too noble coming from a poison-rotten woman like her; that smile on her pretty painted lips says it all.
shuten traces the shape of that mouth with her eyes, distracted, built up energy focusing on the only other soul in the world right now. the shop is indeed eerily quiet, only the hum of the light bulb above them to accompany the pattering of rain on the roof. ]
But if you're really going that far ...
[ she doesn't stop — shuten reaches, suddenly. the horns of her armor clatter against the wood of the crate.
she pins one palm against the girl's shoulder, bracing but nearly shoving with the swiftness with which it descends.
then, her other hand touches down, the length of her thin fingers brushing feather-light at the girl's soft lips, dancing like she were attempting to coax tender secrets from them. her shoulders push in — she leans into her. ]
... Then why not let me give you something as a 'thank you'?
no subject
Shuten-douji.
Her fingers curl inward into her palm.
King of Mt. Ooe.
Her lips press into a line.
I just saved that horrible beast from being driven mad.
A shadow blocks her view of the shop entrance. A shapely silhouette fills her vision.
Do not... let her win!
Just then— cool slender fingers brushing against her lips. The aroma of sake and sweat mingling together, underlined by the bitter mineral tang of blood.]
Hah.
[She moves.
Her hand snatches that pale wrist in a blur so quick she wonders if either of them were prepared for the contact. With that movement she pushes forward, shoving the oni away but not at just a mere arm's length. No, she all but leaps from the crate and shoves Shuten back until that slender form connects with the wooden wall behind her. With the rest of her strength she wrenches the oni's arm up against her throat, pinning it there with the same accuracy as she would with a sharp blade.
Shame that she didn't pull one of those out.
This will have to do.] Enough.
[The word is low and heavy, despite the very calm way it falls from her lips.] 'Thank you'? Do you take me for that much of a fool?
Ahh, but perhaps I merely should have been honest from the start...
[Her hand tightens her grip, until her knuckles are stretched white. Against her seriously severe expression her smile repappears, slow and ghost-like.]
You see, Shuten-douji... I have yet to settle a score with you. And I couldn't very well accomplish that with you out of your mind, now could I?
What we have here is a temporary truce, until we can leave and I can find the means to truly make you regret.
So until then... [Despite the simmering anger beneath her words, despite the way she hopes to crush bone beneath her grip... she leans in. Leans into that feline gaze, those dark lashes and fanged lips.]
Enough of your games.
no subject
one falls to the ground, its long, smokepipe mouth clacking against the floorboards as it does. a symbol of good fortune, face down in the dust.
the noise that escapes her when her back hits the wall falls from her lips like she let it — electrified, edging on pleasant in its shock. the bend of her own arm against her throat cuts that indulgence off quickly, and shuten endures the demon slayer's words with her chin angled and her jaw locked.
she listens, and listens, feeling the wash of that hot, hot intent over her skin, the sweetness of her voice and scent like honeydew masking the venom that lies underneath. back arching against the soft wood of the wall, entangling and pressing and pushing against each other — shuten is prepared for the demon slayer to inject her, trapped together like this.
when she finishes, her smile is helpless, flushed pink under the iron-red of the blood still staining her. ]
Regret?
[ she all but sings, breathy and manic, from the slim parting of her lips, one eye squeezed shut against the pain in her joints. ]
Fu, fufu...! Regret — what, sweetie?
[ in spite of the awkward twist of limbs, shuten, with her free hand, snatches that bleached leather belt at the demon slayer's hip, affixing her there. ]
Hah, with the way you're pressed up against me ... the way you're always pressed up against me ... I get the feeling you're just as exhilarated to be doing this as I am. Every time.
[ and with a sudden burst of will, shuten rips her arm out of the girl's grip — her strength still considerable, even weakened, against a warrior who relies on speed and poison.
she captures that wrist swiftly, and pulls her in, fangs and breathless voice in the space between the crook of the girl's neck and ear. ]
Why pretend otherwise, Shi ... no ... bu?
no subject
Shinobu thinks to ask her when the band at her waist is suddenly snagged.]
'Exhilarated'— !!
[She barely reacts when Shuten wretches her arm out of that grip, ensnaring her wrist between pale fingers. She lets out a grunt as she reflexively tests the grip— and knows she won't be able to pull away so quickly. A curse crosses her mind with the speed of a passing arrow.
Fast. She's too fast—
And then: stillness. An unfathomable silence, before:]
... 'Exhilarated?'
[Her lips spread the syllables of the word in a stretched whisper, like the last verses of some lost sutra. Her eyes narrow slightly as her skin reacts to the crooning against her ear— shivers following that warmth breath along the circumference of her neck. Exhilarated. Was that the word she should use to describe what she was feeling now? Was that the sensation she was currently being blindsided by, now that she and the oni were practically melded against each other?
Was such a feeling... normal under these circumstances?
Don't be ridiculous.
This is the talk of an oni.
And yet— her heart pounds despite herself. It thuds steadily in her chest and sends heat rushing to her limbs, to the tips of her ears and her fingers. It itches, coaxes her to spring into action— to rip her arms away, to wrap her hand around Shuten's throat, to cut her open, to punch her, to kill her, to ki—
—Ah.
Unbeknownst to Shuten her smile vanishes, replaced by a firm line of consideration. Her lips part slightly and drift up to the oni's ear, mimicking what she had done just seconds ago.] I'll admit: perhaps you're not so far from the truth. But in the end, all those little details fall wayside. Do you know why... Shuten-san?
[Her voice softens.]
It's because you're an oni. A detestable oni that I will eventually be rid of.
[The muscles beneath Shuten's fingers flex. She lowers her chin. A faint smile— one tinged with tightness, sealing away a hundred curses— graces her lips once more.
She does allow one indulgence: to brush that ghost-like smile against the curve of the oni's shoulder. When she speaks the words brush against Shuten's skin like the beating wings of a butterfly.]
Now... won't you release me?
no subject
the echo of that honorific nearly leaves her lips then, in an attempt to mimic the sharp irony of it, the dripping sarcasm in its politeness, and in the distance it erects between them, breathed against her skin when they cannot separate.
it's almost as cute as the threat that follows it, the promise of violence and victory over the one who was known as the oni king. the sweetness of that voice tickles her, literally and figuratively; from here, shuten can feel the shape of this woman — soft, small, the tension of muscle flexing underneath her grasp and the pounding of her heart against hers.
it feels good — these sparks are her reason, the ever-present motivation of her existence. here, as a servant — she lives for this, the heat and electricity between two bodies, and she couldn't have asked for a better pick-me-up. ]
Fu, fufufu, fufufufu...!
[ her laughter comes bubbling, static tickling it all the way up as she breathes against the girl's neck. nowhere else for it to go. fangs gleam as though she means to sink into that neck again, to taste that poison-sweetness again like divine sake. ]
Even though you know the truth of my name, now ... even though I could whittle you down ... [ the breeze of her breath wisps against the thin strands of gradient hair against her nape ] ... if I felt any more myself .... You're still saying those things?
[ greed like an elixir swirls in her eyes. ahhhh, she wants to have more fun with this one ... wants to wrap her legs around her and dare the other woman to buck. the ends of her nails dig into that white leather of her belt, leaving trails of smudged and drying blood along its pearl-white color, the shell hue of her wrist. ]
And yet I get the feeling you mean every word. ... I love types like you. The heat in your body and the hunger in your eyes is ssso honest... You want to run through me in more ways than one ... don't you?
[ as her voice coils further and further into itself, brushing against the hot and damp space at the demon slayer's ear, shuten crushes her closer, the black material of that uniform nearly burning against her skin. her lips trail the soft line of the girl's jaw until she's found the center of that throat, the site she's already sunk her teeth into once before.
slowly, she opens her mouth against it, scraping her fangs against the peek of skin there.
—and pulls away. ]
Ahhhh, you're getting me all riled up...! But I guess ... now isn't the time.
[ gently, shuten begins to unwind herself from shinobu. ]
Right?
big miss steak
And when she does, she thinks with a shiver of adrenaline, her heart thrumming heavy in her ears, When she does—
If my poison doesn't kill her then my sword will.
If my sword cuts her—
Ah.] Shuten-san... even after posturing and speaking so uncouthly you're still... so sure of yourself, aren't you?
['... even though I could whittle you down ...'
Shut up. The muscles at her wrist tighten and flex beneath those pale fingers, still testing the strength in the grip and determining that no, she can't pull away yet but she can move that arm where she wants it. Even as the oni breathes against her neck and presents those sharp fangs she feels no fear, no swift feeting instinct that would compel her to either fight or flight. This is always how it was meant to be, wasn't it...? No matter how one tried to save (understand) oni it would never be enough to bridge the extreme difference between them and humans. Even if this oni made her skin shiver, even if she set her nerves ablaze each time she fixed that feline gaze on her... in the end it didn't matter. It shouldn't matter! She's just an oni!
Those words are doing more than enough to set her on edge anyways...! The next she lets out is almost incredulous with the way she shakes her head.] You—
Hah. Are you sure you can afford to talk like that? After being rescued by a mere human... aren't you even the slightest bit ashamed?
Regardless even if you are the Shuten-Douji, King of Mt. Ooe, you're still trapped here like me. With me.
Me. The human that saved you.
[A welling of fresh bright anger bubbles up to the surface like water boiling over. Shinobu ducks her head and remains fixed in place, even with the oni only somewhat at a distance from her.] 'Run through you'...? Riled up...?
Ahaha...
[As she keeps her chin lowered she makes a sound— a soft grunt that reaches up to her shoulders. When she slowly looks back up, a blot of dark red stains the corner of her lips. A budding drop wells there and slowly begins to drip as her lips lift up.]
"Now isn't the time?" Are you underestimating me? Teasing me?
[Her free hand shoots out and entraps Shuten's shoulder in a claw-like grip. She shoves her back against the wall once more, narrows those bright indigo eyes briefly—]
Wrong.
[and crushes their lips together— her lower lip pressed against that seam, smearing the line with poisonous blood. It's less of a kiss and more of an attack, yet she lets out a gasp despite herself when the realization sets it. Whether the oni tries to fight or tries to flee it hardly matters to her now— she isn't thinking, she isn't panicking, she just wants that blood to burn her lips, sear her tongue and make her stop talking!]
ya
"shuten-san." there it is again. that ironic quirk of hers feels like another brush of static electricity in the atmosphere against her skin, the first crackle of pinprick energy in the washing flood to follow.
"rescued." "mere human." "ashamed." "with me."
numbed as her senses are to the scent of blood, atmosphere so saturated with metal thick and dispassionate, when the girl's skin breaks — shuten knows. ]
!
[ that saccharine sweetness, the pungency of flowers is as explosive as sparks to oil. why she's punctured her own lip ...
... she doesn't realize until those half-moon eyes are piercing into hers, blood-red refractions like rage and human determination in that night-indigo view. ]
—Ahh!
[ her voice is a singing gasp, hitting several tones as it spills against those poison-stained lips, as honeydew and pith and iron and flowers bleeds onto her tongue. it careens into a moan, even as— especially as it begins to sear. her knees buckle, she slides downward, and her neck cranes upward to continue to meet those lips. ]
Oh — oh!
[ the hand wrapped around shinobu's wrist fastens once again, grasping until she trembles. with a third gasp, shuten regains the wherewithal to rip her head away, breathless and flushed as the poison stings.
it's not as bad as the first time, when she drank delicate mouthfuls and waited for it to hit her stomach. it burns like citric acid on her skin, but burns all the same, and this time ... her heart is racing faster than it ever has before here. she feels light as a feather, suspended in ecstasy as quick and violent as a bolt of lighting through her body. her eyes widen, they sharpen, her spine arcing hard into the demon slayer crushed against her.
her heaving breaths begin to bubble — this time her claws sink hard and fast enough into shinobu's black uniformed sleeves that they pierce right through. ]
Fu, fufufu... ahahahaha...! Oh..!! Don't you—
[ their lips may as well still be connected, close as shuten remains, with blushing pain in her expression, swimming mania, strained arousal. back to the wall, shuten uses the collision of their bodies, the pressure and tension between them, the demon slayer's aggression, to wrap both legs around shinobu's waist, thighs crushing around her.
she clings and breathes against that soft, barely-rouged mouth: ]
—dare run away after that...!
[ her voice is a harsh whisper, sharp and biting in its intensity — just like the line of her fangs, moving over shinobu's lower lip ...
... and piercing into the swollen flesh, four points of white meeting in the middle. ]
no subject
She doesn't know what she's doing.
Kochou Shinobu, elite demon slaying warrior, for once does not know what she's doing. Her reasoning spirals like so many brittle leaves in autumn, swept away by a torrent she has no control over. Even as their lips smear together and peel away enough for her to suck in a desperate gulp of air she feels adrift, taken aback by her own actions and devoid of the precious night hair now tainted with the metallic tang of blood.
Now she only tastes her own— freely bleeding from the corner of her lips, now painting the supple lips of the oni before her. It makes for a morbidly beautiful picture and the thought dissipates as quickly as it came. Heat suffuses every inch of her skin, constricts her heart and makes her breathless.
Underneath that heat burns something even greater— fresh welling rage.]
You...
[Comes a brief hiss as she narrows her eyes, her lip stinging with the self-inflicted wound. How could she stand it after last time...? Was this approach perhaps too reckless—
... Hah, of course it was. She would never do something this reckless, this dangerous or indulgent—]
—!!
[Her expression twists into a grimace as those claws dig into her back and pierce the fabric of her haori. Wind is knocked out of her once more as Shuten clutches her close by a precious doll and in the oni's grip she may as well be one— helpless to that strength, unable to do anything else but grind her teeth and sneer at that ravished expression before her. She curses her, curses this predicament, curses her own unhinged need to inflict pain on this oni. Her lips part to give voice to these curses—
—and feels herself choke as fangs touch down on her lip and break.]
Y— Ngh!!
[Shinobu seizes up. Hot blinding pain sears through the sensitive puncture wounds of her mouth, makes her gasp as her hand desperately makes to attack the head currently attempting to make a meal out of her mouth. She ends up with a handful of black hair, fingers tangling into the oni's locks— but she dares not pull away yet.
No, she thinks through the dizzying pain. If she pulls away now she may very well lose her lip and would truly be in trouble then.
Instead her free hand— as much as she's able to move with the woman's legs wrapped about her waist— comes down on the oni's shoulder and jerks her forward, blunt nails digging into the flesh.] Ugh—
[As she forces the oni's torso closer she purposefully leans back, stumbling as their disjointed weight, now pulled away from the damp wall, sways unbalanced and has pitching forward
and taking the oni with her, her eyes squeezing shut as she stumbles and falls.]
Ah!!
[They topple with a clatter and pained grunt from the human. She didn't land on her back— but instead landed on Shuten and feels those pressure points of pain from when their bodies collided. She slams her hand beside the oni's head, the world still spinning as blood dribbles from the corner of her lips down to the curve of her jaw. It drips, splatters onto the floor in red blossom blotches, like the very blood trickling down from the rafters just outside their little shelter. Her piercing gaze burns as she stares down, her brow furrowed in pain.]
...
Is... that it? [Comes her low, heaving words as her hips shift against the legs around them.]
no subject
an explosion of hot blood, fresher than the stale and paltry red-brown falling from the sky outside, graces her lips like blessed wine — divinely real in the midst of an evening of illusions and shadows. it's the taste of a human, living, heaving rage sweetening its flavor as they entwine together, as fangs and nails sink into each other's skin like the embrace of two lovers desperate not to let go.
it dizzies her. the pain sinking into her from all angles, burning her mouth like a breath of fire. it's intoxicating, truly, unlike the act of inebriation she typically plays with, and shuten dislodges from that plush, gushing lip the instant it becomes nearly too much — and as the bite of nails in her shoulder delights her to a gasp.
she refuses to let go of this, of shinobu, even as the balance of their bodies shift and they both come crashing down.
the clattering of the carved masks against the wall are bamboo windchimes in a storm, crashing to the shelves and to the floor around them as the delicate shop rattles in their wake. shuten's winded moan pierces through the air, dashing around like the woodash dust scattered about the room. ]
—Oh!!
[ she writhes — spine lifting from the floor as her half-pained, half-electrified groans crawl through her, as the collision of her body against the demon slayer's brings her to true life once again.
she doesn't let go. she refuses to, heels still buried against the small of the other woman's back.
"is ... that it?"
that smile of hers — dreamy, manic, drunk beyond all reason — returns brighter than ever. ]
Ahah — ahahaha...! "Is that it"...? How cruel, when you're ssso much.
[ these words, she purrs low and rumbling, laced in a groan as her claws climb up the column of shinobu's neck, tracing damp wisps of hair until her palms finally grasp around the girl's face, pulling her kiss-close again. ]
You tell me, sweetie. I never would have imagined ... you had something like this in you.
[ suddenly, her voice strikes a singing, lilting pitch, the sultry and impassioned voice of a woman with another between her legs. her thighs squeeze down, her hips buck — she drives shinobu into her. ]
It burns so bad...! Ugh. More. Don't stop. I want to drink you down — to your last drop—
[ hot tongue to bloody, bloody lips, shuten brings their mouths together again. ]
no subject
She cannot allow this to continue— she's already screwed up beyond hope, beyond her own control—
Those clawed hands pull her down— a brief memory of the hari onna flashes in the span of a second in her mind, long fingers and dark splayed out hair—
Except this face isn't haggard. It's gentle, beautiful, and tinted red at the edges. It bares white fangs and pins a stare so maddened she almost wants to look away.
"I never would have imagined ... you had something like this in you."
Her bloodied lips pull back as she begins to sneer— don't think you know me, you don't know. You don't know anything!
You don't—
Their lips meet.
A broken groan rips from her throat and the way she jerks her head to the side after says it all— this is different. It's different, and slowly all thought burns away once again. She pushes that bleeding lip against the oni's, parts their mouths and breathes in. Unlike the first time she doesn't shove her tongue forward but instead sweeps it between those lips— bold and inviting. As they move she reaches for those pale wrists and swiftly pins them to the floor, another sound easing out of her throat as she does.
She kisses her— messily, angrily, with her brow pulled down and her breath quivering with each press. Her thumbs dig into Shuten's pulse points.]
Enough... enough...
[Those panted words come strangely rough in her voice, as though a vengeful spirit had briefly taken over and was speaking through her.]
Drink me to my last drop...?
[They kiss even as she speaks and she punctuates the last word with a bite of the oni's lip before she whispers.]
What... an incredibly selfish woman you are.
Shuten-san!
no subject
ash sticks to her skin, the scraping of her kimono against the floor mingles with the sound of viscous death falling from the sky, just outside the doorway.
suddenly, all at once, the floral-sweetness of a blooming vine brushes against her periphery, like the lilac hues of the girl's gradient bangs in her vision. a flash of coolness in the midst of this sweltering night. she's known enough flowers to recognize it, drank with the moon enough times to know — as she imbibes the blood that sears her insides, the essence that's melting her down is that of wisteria.
the spirit of the wisteria, the girl on the verge of ethereality as elegant as a ghost, pins her to the floor. their collision, what they're doing here is as absurd as the company the fujimusume keeps — more, perhaps, for shuten is a far cry from repentant oni. from that human fantasy.
the poison spills into her, works its way to the haze of her mind, bringing her back to that silhouetted scene she'd just escaped from. the demon slayer — after saving her — recreates the nightmare she rescued her from, the final banquet on mount ooe, as shuten-douji's guest. as her poisoner, offering herself to her as though sat on a lacquerware dish. she could die here, drinking beyond reason.
it's filthy, it's just the way she likes it. it's delicious, it's awful, it's fulfilling, it's painful — and she can't stop. her sense is long gone with her breath, turned to gasps and groans spilling between their bloody kisses. ]
Ahh! Oh—
[ are the spine-curving moans that escape from the depths of her chest, shared between the heat and mess of their mouths. when shinobu pins her wrists to the side, she feels her low center react — the roiling bubble of hunger and greed coursing through her veins like hot, frenzied life.
it's hilarious, it almost makes her laugh, for shuten trapped the girl with the strength of her grip just a few moments ago; she could pull away from those hands around her wrists if she wanted. the weight of dizzying pleasure, more than her pressure, keeps her rooted to the floor. her body arcs against it, chest to burning chest, and she allows the demon slayer to take her. ]
Ugh! Don't tease me, girl...
[ again, she bucks. again, she drags shinobu between her bare thighs, feeling just enough friction to further her demonic desire, electrified arousal in this dance of death. ]
Hah. You were so eager for me to have your blood ... Drive yourself into me, then. Let me — feel you.
no subject
How strange that after all this time... she's still angry.
But of course she would be— even in the throes of intoxicated abandon she still holds fast to her true self: the woman who would gladly stab into the heart of any prostrating oni regardless if it was guilty or not. She was still the demon slayer who was too weak to cut the head off an oni but was still driven enough to create her own poisons in order to destroy them— slowly, cruelly and without mercy.
Of course she's still angry—]
Ah!
[Of course she still wants to kill this oni—]
You—
[Then why... why was she still— ah, dammit.
Shinobu groans the words without realizing, her eyes still squeezes shut as those plush thighs squeeze about her hips and bring her closer to that intensifying warmth. It's a truly enticing sensation— one she never imagined she would experience in such a place... and never with the likes of an oni. But now moisture gathers at her neck, beads at her brow and makes her fingers tighten around those wrists.
Fruits and sake. Alcohol and lacquer. Sandalwood and peaches. How could someone who often bathed in blood... have such a fragrance to them?
Her fingers squeeze again. She wants to strangle her, suffocate her— this demon with a silky tongue and soft searching lips—
Don't be fooled!
Idiot!
Shinobu rips away from the oni, a gasp breaking through her lips as she finally surfaces from the depths of the oni's spell. Air comes in deep heaving pants, ragged through her throat as she pins Shuten with an incredulous glare, her face burning bright scarlet. Her lip still burns but it's a secondary pain at this point, almost in the background as she forces herself to clear her head of the phantom mist they were both assuredly drowning in. She...
What... was she doing again?
"You were so eager for me to have your blood ..."]
... Haaaah.
[Comes the long winded sound of exasperation, her chest deflating slowly as she raises one hand to wipe the corner of her lips, smearing the drying stain of red there.] Ahahaha.... you nearly had me there.
Miss.
[Even as she still lingers above her Shinobu doesn't move yet— her gaze gradually clearing yet as intensely bright as ever— two glasses tipped at an angle to catch the full glow of the moon. Her smile returns, faint yet heavy, as though the secrets of tonight and all of its intricacies had just been revealed to her.]
That being said, don't you think you've had your fill for tonight...?
[With both hands now free from the floor they hover, ever so slightly, before coming to finally rest on the decorated heads of the oni's knee guards. Shinobu sucks in air, silently— inhales the iron scent of blood and rain and keeps it within her chest.
She becomes still. So very, very still.]
Enough.
[I must stop here... or else.]
no subject
(one would think, one would hope, for the clan is not only named for a version of her, but the endurance of the lessons she supposedly imparted.)
truthfully, she hadn't meant to go so far. the demon slayer had saved her — it was a favor owed, one she had planned to repay beyond the shame and needling, both verbal and physical, she prodded into her. even she can admit when she's been too dishonest for her liking.
but how could she help it when the girl looked away from her like that? when she looked at her that way? and could she truly be expected to keep her sense, to stay sober when she pushed back so well?
her heart sings with madness.
she'll apologize later, in a fashion only she can manage, self-serving and forceful.
right now, she can't escape the high of this entanglement.
shinobu sighs, and shuten feels herself moving to retaliate already. as the demon slayer unwinds, shuten is a maelstrom at sea, an ouroboros of fervor, feeding into herself as she stares up at her.
the color of carmine streams on shinobu's mouth like ribbon decorations only further her, the sweat beading along her gentle curving face. ]
You really don't know ... what you've done, do you?
[ the second of stillness passes. her arm, now free, rises to brush fingers under those gradient bangs, touch the line of that jaw with an enamored, worshipping gentleness.
and then she moves.
with a new strength, summoned from the depths of her hunger, shuten shoots up — flipping shinobu over and pinning her to the floor in one, clamorous fell swoop. she straddles her, lips parting and tightening at the friction still alighting between them.
this time, she pins shinobu, whispering passion as she bores her fiery gaze down on her. ]
You really are beautiful... Your honesty tastes so much sweeter than that façade you put up. Mmmm, and now that I've had a taste ... I want more.
[ what had she done, indeed. shuten slides a hand under the nape of the girl's neck, fingernails dragging through the bed of her hair ... and moving upward. ]
I want to make you mine sssooo baaadly...
[ suddenly, like the first flickers of a fire toppled by the wind, the sharpness of her smile, like her voice, begins to fade to a dreamy wispiness. ]
But ... I'm not without my manners. I have a favor to repay and ... ah, that's ... starting to catch up to me.
[ a burning as freezing as ice spreads through her, the poison like loneliness sharp in her veins. the singular grip on the girl's wrist loosens, ever so slightly. as though seeking her salvation, shuten's hand climbs — and her claws take hold of that butterfly clip holding shinobu's hair. ]
You have to live with this. It was fun while it lasted and now ... I want you to prepare yourself.
[ shutting her eyes, shuten dips. she drags her tongue across the two-dot line along shinobu's lower lip. ]
Kochou Shinobu.
[ one last kiss, one last drink to send her over the edge. her grip slackens completely. ]
no subject
An oni is only as docile as it allows itself. Shuten has enjoyed this scuffle, this violently bitter match of wit without strengths. Shinobu isn't so stupid as to think she'll continue to show her belly like this— or in this case, continue to stay on her back and croon sweet nothings beneath her.
Hot in the face, chin and lips damp, Shinobu's eyes narrow at those words. She realizes it's too late when that reddened mouth widens its grin.
She should have gotten up and walked away—]
You— [The word is a breath sucked through her lips, a bracing as their positions are soon reversed and Shinobu finds herself—
—with her back on the floor.] Ugh!
[Her hands take hold of Shuten's shoulders— already pushing, two human appendages attempting to push a boulder. It had been years since she had done exactly that but now everything she had learned combusts, goes up in smoke in the face of those glowing feline eyes.
After a beat, Shinobu feels herself seething.]
Make me your's...? You're deranged!
[Should have left this oni and put her out of her misery, should have killed her when she attacked that youkai, should have simply killed her before! Why—
Why have things come to this!]
If you think— [Her throat undulates and words end. Her large, piercing eyes follow the oni's every movement— look through her for any sign of deadly intent, any hint that any second now she'll flash her fangs and tear at her throat.
When those lips touch down, she goes still.
You have to live with this.
Kochou Shinobu.
Her hand pushes.
It shoves— pushing the oni away so she can deftly slide out from underneath. Black strands of wayward hair stick to her skin, blood dots the dark collar of her uniform. She's already a mess... but she can endure instead of staying here a second longer. Shinobu fluidly rises, dusts off her haori once—
—and hears something clatter gently to the floor before Shuten.
The little frowning oni with the club lies face up. She had completely and utterly forgotten about it until this moment— hadn't even realized she had pocketed it before running into Shuten. Now she stares down at it, her expression unreadable.
...
She turns away.] Looks like you'll need to wait for the rain to let up... hm?
[Her words rise with that same genial clarity from before. A pale hand tugs her haori closer to her person and her chin turns a slight fraction towards Shuten.]
Good night for now, Shuten-san.
[The masks which hang silently upon the walls— silent observers— rattle as a gust of wind whips about the room once and leaves nothing in its take.
Shinobu is gone.]
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slowly, eventually, a frigidity overtakes her. nausea grips her as the weight of blood-thick humidity and icepick elixirs weakens her shoulders, her grip. ]
Hahh.
[ is the sound of her breath, both labored and electrified, that spreads across shinobu's lips.
when shinobu pushes, shuten yields like a doll.
she falls away, landing on her hip with a thud and a groan: she's weak, bits of her slowly dissolving within. it's painful, but as the dilating slits of her pupils drag up shinobu's figure as she stands, she can only think one thing: you're beautiful. she parts her lips to say it, sink those words like the four ends of her fangs in the demon slayer as she stands wet and disheveled —
when it falls.
the little ble oni, fallen neatly at her palm, braced against the floor. the same silence takes her, before shuten looks up at the demon slayer, and smiles. the sound of those final, parting words, smoothed over with a desperate swiftness, are met with a bubbling, giddy humor.
ah ... it hurts. it burns. it bleeds. but it was all ... worth it.
kochou shinobu, beauty and deadliness and fury, has proven herself so wonderfully worth it. she's delicious.
and she's gone.
shuten's claws slowly come around the tiny doll on the ground ... and she meets it. the poison working its way through her veins, all shuten can do is endure the needles and ice in her blood and stomach. gently, shuten falls to the floor, hidden among the shelves and boxes and knocked over masks like faces for company.
the little blue oni is all she needs. ]
Good night, sweetie. I'll be seeing you ... again.
[ she curls around the doll, bringing it close to her chest. she shuts her eyes — and waits. ]