Thinking of yearning Simon Riley, thinking of Ghost suffering from a love he knows he cannot pursue so all he can do is yearn from afar.
You two met after a successful mission, Soap insisting on throwing a small dinner party at his place and that's where he met you, Soap's partner.
He didn't really pay attention to you at first, you had some small talk and he thought you were nice, but nothing more, it was only by the end of the small dinner party when the other boys were a little tipsy and busy chatting with each other that you two had a deeper talk and as he went home after the dinner that night, he left thinking about that talk.
You didn't see each other that often, but when you did he felt a bit more at ease each time and it was one day, when he caught himself staring at you from across the table as everyone else was distracted in their own conversations that it finally hit him.
Bloody fucking hell.
He wanted you, this was probably one of the most awful realizations he could have come too, he hated being in love, but with a mate's partner out of all people? That was just another layer of hell.
He made sure to avoid you like the damn plague after.
He tried to get out of meets ups after work if Soap ever mentioned bringing you along, go quiet or change the topic whenever Soap started speaking about you and if he came to a gathering and you were present, he didn't even look you in the eye, he was trying to ignore these feelings, repressing them until they went away but it was just making them worse.
You even pulled him aside in one of these get-togethers, you were concerned, in your eyes, Simon just had a full 180° on you, sure you weren't best friends but he did bother to talk to you whenever you saw each other but now he was ignoring you, you wondered, had you offended him in some way? Made him upset without realizing? You just wanted to have a good enough relationship with your boyfriend's team, not make them hate you.
Seeing that guilty and ashamed look in your eyes almost made him fold, but he held it together, he made up some bullshit excuse, explaining that he was just "going through a rough patch" and you hadn't done anything to upset him and seeing your relieved smile just made him feel worse.
He wanted you, wanted you so bad, couldn't explain the envy that he felt whenever you and Soap acted like such lovely couple, holding hands, with him having an arm wrapped around your shoulder, him kissing your cheek to tease you.
Fuck, how he wished that he was the one doing all of that to you, how he wished he was the one bringing such a flustered smile on your face.
If he was drunk enough.. just for a moment he could imagine that he really was in Soap's place, that he was the one with the amazing partner.. but it never lasted and in the morning he always had a killer headache to add onto the pain.
If you were just some rando's partner, perhaps he wouldn't have felt so bad, hell, maybe get bold enough to pursue you, but no, you belonged to Soap, to Johnny.
Johnny was one of his best mates. He would never be able to live with himself if he destroyed not only your relationship with him but his relationship with him.
He had known Johnny for longer, they had been through so much shit together, to throw a friendship like that away? He wouldn't allow it. So in the end.. he just yearned from afar, even if it hurt him, hurt him so badly.
Nothing could describe the ache he felt hearing Soap brag about you, fuck, bastard really had hit the jackpot all he could do was just, nod, pretend each word didn't leave him move envious and sad.
Some nights, he'd pull up your socials, you didn't post a whole lot, but if anything it was another thing he liked about you.. one night he got too desperate and with a photo of you on his phone and some tissues on the nightstand.. he couldn't resist.
Needless to say, he didn't have the courage to meet Soap in the eye the next day.
Characters: Lucien & Eris, Elain Archeron, the LoA
Summary: Against expectations, Lucien accepted Eris’s invitation to the ball he was throwing in tribute for their mother’s millennium.
Beron had been slayed, Eris has been High Lord, and Elain is accepting the bond. Very background Azris, like one paragraph lol
A/N: I really wanted to share something for brotherhood day of @lucienweekofficial, so I present some anxiety ridden fluff. I wrote this all today so it hasn’t been betad, excuse any errors
2k below the divider , happy lucien week 🫶
It’d be the first time in over a century. Eris wasn’t even sure why Lucien had agreed but he wasn’t foolish enough to prompt reassessment. He’d be coming to Autumn for their mother’s millennium, Eris was as close to giddy as he’d allow himself to be.
“No, nonono, we have to clear out all the persimmons, he hates those.” Eris scowled and plucked ripe fruit off the dessert table like it was venomous.
“…” Raymond, the head of his guard, called him absurd with just his eyes. “You love persimmon, you required its presence at Beron’s funeral.”
“Yes, and as I should have, Beron didn’t deserve the respect of denying myself what I want, but Lucien warrants special changes.” Eris explains the obvious.
“Ah, right.” Ray dropped it. Thank fuck. Eris didn’t enjoy the frantic, desperate feelings that overtaken his mind since Lucien RSVP’d.
“I just. I want him to like it. Being back here, I mean.” Eris felt like a whining, needy youngling. His longtime companion’s eyes soften.
“Eris you can’t control how he’ll react—”
“I know, I know. But I have to try.”
“I understand, just know he wouldn’t agree to come then leave because there’s persimmon.”
“You’re right too often, it’s beginning to make me look bad.” Eris pouted, looking to the busying servants on their either side. They’d been observing the tables being setup, just loitering and trying to stay out of the way while very much being in their way.
“Because being a madman and having a conniption about fruit makes you look super great.” Raymond snorted. He was damn lucky Eris liked him.
Eris hoped his flat stare did the reprimanding for him.
“Alright, alright. What else, High Lord?” They still spoke of the title like an inside joke, like it wasn’t what they’d been bleeding for.
Nerves were conquered by a rush of pride, he inhaled deep and as he exhaled he forced stress out. “We should check how the veranda smells,” Eris nodded to himself, it should be something welcoming, maybe chestnut, like their mother? He hummed, contemplating but content Ray was pattering in tow.
He does wish Azriel would be here, if only to wait in his chambers and wait to be utilized like a dildo with a heartbeat. But for now, Raymond’s amused compliance would do for comfort. Ugh, when did he become one who needed a stress reliever? He used to take anything to the face with invariable resilience; was the absence of Beron softening him? Was Beron right about that?
“Come on, Eris,” Ray’s voice held no judgment or pity, “Let’s have a drink before he gets here.”
“Oh I shouldn’t,” Eris swiveled, unfortunately piqued. He should be sober when Lucien arrives but looser muscles wouldn’t hurt.
He didn’t speak but his friend tilted his head, lifted his eyebrow and frowned slightly, not so subtly calling bullshit.
“Just one.”
Lucien was hit with a wall of wafting chestnut, he breathed greedily.
“Ooo, what is that?” Elain sniffed aside him, a small, awed smile gracing her face.
“Nearly what my mother’s scent is like, roasted chestnut. It’s a nice touch.” Indeed, this was the last thing he needed to feel comfortable. Elain’s arm promised to be in his was what convinced him to come, his mother would make the visit worth it.
And Eris. Well, Eris was Eris. Lucien couldn’t fathom patricide improving one’s character, despite even Rhysand saying Eris had grown more compassionate, less of a cunt were his exact words.
He didn’t entirely trust Rhysand, but for someone so petty to admit another’s betterment.. it was telling.
And so here he was, crossing the precipice he was chased out of.
It was far less daunting than he’d braced himself for, Elain’s scent combining with the note of his mother’s was swaddling his nerves.
It was a banquet, with a live band and ballroom dancing. If Lucien’s recall was correct, this would be magnificent, draped in decadent spreads, otherworldly musicians and nobility draped in breathtaking costumes—okay Lucien mostly remembered the costume parties but they never differed too much from the lavish displays.
Elain gasped to his right, he caught himself from doing the same. He wanted to pretend he still knew how to belong here.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
Lucien’s heart seized as the sweet tone of his mother chimed in. There were times he would’ve massacred to hear her voice.
“Lady Aurora! Yes, stunning!” Elain exclaimed, matching the other female’s grin and bright eyes.
“High Lady Elain, splendid to see you, and Lucien,” she breathed, her eyes grew glossy. “I’m so happy you came.” Her smile reached either ear, Lucien was in near shock, though he didn’t hesitate to accept her open arms.
“Mother,” Lucien’s eye burned, “Gods, it’s so good to see you,” he cried into her ear, his face buried between her silky hair and sheltering neck.
“Oh, precious boy,” her velvety tone shivered his spine. This was worth the roiling wave of nausea that possessed him as he first winnowed here.
“It’s so good to see you,” his voice had turned gravelly, fighting off fully sobbing in public. “I missed you,” he had to be embarrassing himself by now.
“Oh, Eris!” He heard Elain call. They’d become friends, it’s perplexed Lucien since she came back and remarked verbatim, “He wasn’t as bad as you made him out to be.” It drove him crazy. She didn’t know the things Eris stood by, the Machiavellian priorities he had held above brotherhood. And as goddamn much as he wanted to, believing the prick could drop piece his shattered moral compass because Beron was burnt was simply unfathomable.
Lucien stiffened in his mother’s arms, pulling back, unable to fix his frown even on her birthday.
“Sunshine, you need to give him a chance—”
“I don’t, actually—“ Lucien cut himself off, having a disagreement with her was the very last thing he wanted to do.
“He can be himself now, he has been complicit in terrors but he no longer needs to, he no longer needs to act like Beron wanted him to.” Her eyes pleaded for him to understand.
“I—look, I’m here, aren’t I? I want it to be true.” And he meant it.
She nodded, her eyes scattered across his face, the worry faded. “Okay, let’s, then.” She began the short walk between them and Elain and Eris.
He followed.
Eris did only have one drink. Unfortunately the drink was a stout bottle of bourbon.
He and Raymond rushed to the healer’s quarters, searching for some intoxication elixirs. The running churned his stomach vigorously. Not puking was an accomplishment, as was keeping the vile liquid down.
The walk to the ballroom was sobering, all he could think was of a chant youfuckingmoronyoufuckingmoronyoufuckingmoron and how aching his head was.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay, I’m sorry, didn’t realize how much we’d—”
“No shit?” Eris cocked his head, sternly setting his eyes to Raymond’s. It wasn’t entirely fair to place blame on the male but frankly, being flooded with guilt didn’t sound dandy. “Why the fuck did you offer alcahol instead of—Oh, I don’t know, a FUCKING HUG OR SOMETHING!” Eris shouted, rolled his eyes, and stomped off and stamped down the feelings of immaturity. He’d deal with Ray later.
With only one corridor between him and Lucien, he practiced some breathing exercises that a therapist he saw decades ago taught him.
It was difficult, nearly Sisyphean, but he calmed down his nerves. He was mostly sober, entirely alone and terrified Lucien would outright spit on him or maybe punch him or—
No, no. He controlled his breath once more. This hallway was too short. He didn’t stop walking.
He reached for a bright side, his brother was in his court. Not a phrase he could even dream of being true only a short while ago.
And it was his Mother’s thousand year birthday, a very momentous occasion that Eris shouldn’t be selfishly ruining over guilt or anxiety. He locked in as he walked through the open doors to the luxuriously set hall.
Familiar faces dotted the room, he nodded and waved as he walked towards the bar. Don’t judge.
“Oh, Eris!”
He turned to see Elain, clad in yellow silk, walking towards him. Eris’s heart raced. Elain; Lucien.
“Hello, High Lady,” Eris bowed his head. Their ascension had been far less bloody than his own. Helion retired as soon as he learnt of Lucien’s heritage and devoted himself to being his son’s right hand. It was admirable, and from what he’s heard through the juicy grapevines, his brother made a fine ruler. He knew the pride he’d felt might not be his to have, he couldn’t help it. He was so, so proud of Lucien.
“High Lord,” Elain curtsied, her dimples added a fun touch to her soft smile. Although their ceremony hadn’t happened—from the grapevines: Elain was quite the picky planner. Eris could appreciate an eye for detail.
“Is Lucien—”
“Yes! Yes, he’s right over here,” Elain turned, Eris followed.
The sight of him took Eris’s breath. He was regal, handsome and Lucien’s arm hooked with their mother’s felt nothing more than miraculous.
Nerves had begone, everything but the childlike wonder of seeing Lucien with the background of Autumn colors and finery—despite the crisp white and detailed gold suit, he seemed to blend in. He would forever be ginger at the very least.
“Brother,” Eris exhaled, grinning fiercely.
“Eris..?” Lucien seemed a little mystified. Understandable though it did feel like a blade through his heart. Nonetheless. He couldn’t protect his feelings right now. He would embrace everything about this reunion.
“Hello!” Eris cringed at how alien he sounded, “Hey, thank you so much for coming.” He stepped forward, closing the gap sped up his pulse.
“Of course,” Lucien nodded, “How could I miss this,” he looked to Aurora’s eyes, his smile infectious.
“I’m happy you chose to come, I know it may be.. weird, but it’s,” Eris breathed, “Gods, it’s just so nice to see you.”
Still, Lucien seemed suspicious but a not-so-subtle squeeze on his arm prompted a more open, more friendly expression. “It is weird, but I’m happy I came too.”
His little brother grinning so genuinely made Eris want to break out into happy tears. His bursting emotions were allowed to water his eyes, turning his smile for the sappier.
Elain joined Lucien’s side, the pair made for a stunning sight, Elain’s supply curves and gentle features paired like bubbly wine to the decadent soufflé that was Lucien’s gravitas.
And the gleam of bittersweet pride in his mother’s eyes.. Eris couldn’t process all the joy.
“Gods, it’s true. You’re a sap now.” Lucien chuckled.
Despite admitting Beron was right, he couldn’t sense anything wrong with that. “Yes, yes. A true fool for feelings.” Eris joined him in chuckling.
Elation flooded his soul, he could revel in this moment for eternity and live a more fulfilling life than most.
“Oh! I’m sending out the invitations officially tomorrow, but of course you both are invited to be honored guests at our mating ceremony. Date to be determined, I just want people to spare me side-eye for leaving it unconfronted.” She rolled her eyes in a manner he didn’t realize she was capable of. He liked snarky Elain.
“I would love for nothing more than to be there.” Eris’s smile spread impossibly wider.
“Aww, yes! Yes, of course, I’m so happy for you two.” Aurora cooed, berthed her arms and wrapped them in a tight hug.
Whether the residual alcohol, or the shock of things going so well, Eris crashed their embrace.
The ladies giggled and Lucien snorted, the whole familialness of it left him with a feeling he wanted imprinted on his being. This was what he did it all for. All the lashings, all the killing, all the moral transgressions he surely won’t be tasting milk and honey for were beyond worth it—it was all nothing in the face of this wealth of happiness.
It felt untrue, fictional. Yet the rush of his blood proved the moment so, so real. Parting to see their three grinning faces.. this was heaven. This night was heaven.
He really did become a sap.
Thank you for reading!! 🧎♀️🫶💗 I may (if I remember) to post this on ao3 too, I just did this instead of urgent homework lol #yolo
Not betad but @makinglongwordsslutty did help me with some details lol (I know nothing about alcohol (can barely spell the word))
diluc x reader oneshot that makes no sense. 2k words.
synopsis: the angel deserves to spread its wings. the wine maker was just grateful to have heard its voice in his lifetime.
hear me out on the concept of being partners with the traveler and going around teyvat with the traveler and paimon. you meet so many interesting people throughout the different nations — you make some friends, some enemies, some more enemies, but you were enjoying yourself to the fullest.
you felt like this was what you were born to do: traverse the world. you didn't know it then, when you were just a nobody in mondstadt that performed at the angel's share with the hopes of earning enough money to get buy.
it was a miracle that you were able to snag a job as the go-to performer at the bar. you remember the day when you were crouched in front of a crying child, singing a soft song in hopes to calm her down. when her parents came and brought her home, you were startled when someone spoke to you out of the blue.
"you have a beautiful voice."
when you had turned, it was none other than diluc ragvindr, the old cavalry captain of the knights of favonius and the owner of the large winery west of springdale. you had heard of him and you saw him sometimes, but you had never talked to him before that day.
you thanked him for his compliment, and he gave you an offer; show up every week to sing a few songs to the patrons of his pub in the city, and he would pay you handsomely.
"that's too much for a weekly performance," you had protested. you may have been in desperate need for money, but you still had some dignity.
diluc, as stone-faced as when he had complimented you, shook his head. "i won't go higher or lesser," he said, his tone final.
and so your arrangement began. every saturday night (which was conveniently also the only day that diluc would personally tend to the bar), you climbed up a stool and sang your heart out in hopes that you would actually earn the amount of mora that diluc was giving you.
there were times where the whole bar would be noisy, singing along with you as they raised their drinks and cheered while a certain bard took up the spot of being your music. other nights, they let you take the spotlight, enraptured by the rise and fall of your melody as you took them through a journey with merely your voice.
even diluc would stop wiping his cup sometimes to just listen to you, his full attention on you and the words that you sang out with such a richness that couldn't be found anywhere else.
you were the angel of the tavern, that much was certain.
"you were amazing up there," he said after you finished your set and settled on one of the high stools at the bar table.
you smiled, your cheeks slightly pink. "you say that every night."
"and every night, i mean it."
kaeya would tease you sometimes whenever he bought his own drinks, saying that you had "softened the shadow of mondstadt into a teddy bear". you laughed and slapped his arm good-naturedly, because it was easier to do that than to meet the eyes of the man who had helped you more times than you could count.
at first, your connection with diluc was professional; you would come to the tavern, sing your songs, then he would pay you when you were finished.
but then one day, he asked you questions about your life, your experiences. you started with answering politely while standing up, cutting it short when you would call it a night then leave. it proceeded to you taking a seat at the bar, and then ordering a drink, and then laughing with (or sometimes at) diluc as patrons filtered out of bar one by one. he would walk you home once his shift was over, apologizing for keeping you out for so long.
"it was my choice to stay," you had reassured. "besides, you are much more interesting than other people give you credit for, mister ragnvindr."
you could have sworn that he was blushing before he turned around and spedwalked out of the city.
soon enough, you had evolved into something more than just a singer and a bar owner; you became friends.
then you met up with a blonde boy named aether and his floating traveling companion named paimon, and even helped him defeat the dragon that had been terrorizing mondstadt during the past weeks.
the thrill of facing dangers head-on with nothing but a weapon in your hand and the strength of your will to live was invigorating to you. it was a different pleasure compared to the kind that you felt when you performed; while singing brought you satisfaction, fighting and traveling, you realized, brought you life.
the purpose that you had been searching for was not hidden in the aged wood of a bar, nor was it whispered through the streets of the city you were born in. it was out here, where your heartbeat was your drum of war and your weapon was the banner you held.
when aether and paimon asked you to join them in their search for aether's sister which would undoubtedly take them all over teyvat, you didn't hesitate to say yes, buzzing with the excitement of finally doing something you properly enjoyed.
you visited the tavern one last time on your last night in mondstadt; aether said you would be making your way to liyue in the morning, and may not be back for a while.
you wanted to say your goodbyes to the person that truly made you feel seen.
diluc knew that there was something different when you entered the tavern and sang your heart out. every patron was captivated with your voice, more so than during your usual nights. you made sure to make the night count, making your final performance count.
he was rinsing the glasses when you were done, when you had climbed off of your usual stool and sat down on the bar. he'd given you your usual drink, and you sat in silence. you were still trying to work up the courage to tell him that you were leaving, and you didn't know how long it would be until you would find yourself back here, in the warmth of the tavern and in the warmth of his presence.
he beat you to it. "you're leaving with the traveler."
he didn't ask. it was like he knew all along.
you nodded, taking a quiet breath before speaking, hoping your voice stays even. "i've never felt as happy performing as i did helping aether out, fighting and going on adventures. i think... i think that was what i was meant to do."
diluc didn't reply immediately. he took his time wiping the rim of the glass until it was clean, setting it down beside the others in the tray before he opened his mouth again.
"make sure to take care of yourself," he said. he finally looked up at you, red eyes meeting yours. you could have sworn that they were glowing. "you will do well out there."
you smiled. it was small, a bit melancholic, because you knew that this would be the last time you would be right here, with him.
"that reminds me," he slung the towel over his shoulder as he bent down below the bar table, rummaging around and setting something on top of the wood. "this is your last paycheck, something a little different to signify your last performance in the angel's tavern."
your brows furrowed. it was a suspicious, long sack, and it obviously had some weight to it.
diluc noticed your apprehension, nudging it towards you. "open it. be careful, though."
you set your drink down and opened the sack. your jaw dropped when you realized what was inside. you hurriedly pulled it out.
"wha — mister ragnvindr, you didn't have to do this," you sputtered.
he'd given you a weapon. your weapon of choice, obviously meticulously forged.
"give it a swing," he encouraged. there weren't any patrons left, since you had once again stayed back to spend some time with diluc.
you lifted it off of the table and gave it a few experimental moves, and you marveled at the way that the weapon seemed to hum in your hand like it was made for you.
"since you will no longer be performing here every week, i thought that giving you something to help you on your new journey would be a sufficient final paycheck," he explained. the way that his eyes never left your expression and the way you played with the weapon almost made him look nervous. "is it to your standard?"
"actually much higher than it," you chuckled. you looked up, and diluc had to force his heart to calm down lest he accidentally activates his vision and sets the sleeves of his coat on fire from how you were grinning at him. "thank you so much, mister ragnvindr. this — this means more to me that you know."
diluc shrugged. "it's nothing. it would mean a lot to me as well if you made use of it."
"please, i feel a little embarrassed that the only thing i could give you before i left was a performance compared to this."
"call me diluc."
you frozed. "pardon?"
"i consider you as more than just an employee. it feels odd that after how long we've known each other, you still address me as formally as you do now."
you felt warmth erupt from your stomach, slightly flustered. yes, it was weird that you never used his first name in the duration that you've known him, but it felt like you would be crossing a line. a line that would confirm something you've thought that you've been feeling for quite some time.
"thank you diluc." his name felt warm on your tongue, like you had swallowed the sun.
diluc looked at you with something dangerously close to a smile. "actually, i think there's one more way you can repay me."
you urged him to continue with a nod of your head.
"sing. any song you'd like."
"i do that every night, diluc," you say, confused.
"sing for me," he clarified. "you've sang for crowds of all sizes, and i've seen all your performances, but i have yet to see you perform for just one person, with nothing but raw emotion mixed with skill. so now, sing with the passion that i know is inside you. sing without restraint."
you lay your weapon gently on the countertop. he's right; you've performed multiple times, both in and out of angel's share, in front of all kinds of people.
and yet a performance just for the wine maker, for the one person who gave you a stage, made you feel more nervous than you had ever been to sing.
"if that's what you wish," you breathed.
your next moves were a familiar routine; you grabbed the nearest chair, dragged it to the center in between the bar and the door, and you climbed on top of it.
diluc leaned on the table behind the counter, crossing his arms and looking up at you. not with expectation, not with suspense.
he just looked at you. the angel that had blessed his bar with a voice and a presence. the one face that has haunted his dreams since the moment he stumbled across you and first offered you a place to perform.
"sing with the passion inside you. sing without restraint."
you knew just the song for him, and you opened your mouth to let the notes flow out of you and maybe reach his soul the way that he reached yours.
no one knew of the private performance that the angel gave to the hero. no one knew that would be the last time they would see each other.
all they could hear, as they slept peacefully in their beds deep into the night, was the heartbreakingly beautiful melody that graced the tavern and weaved itself into fibers of the wood, making it hum with a life that it had lacked in its years of existing.
(we're not talking about the tavern itself.)
wow did this take forever to get out of my system. i have felt the urge to write something for genshin for the longest time, and why not write it about my first five star and the character that makes me feel so nostalgic every time i see him?
i'll try my best to be more active during the break! send any requests or thoughts you may have. thank you for reading <33
Kn8 podcast mentioned how Okonogi despite getting angry at Hoshina's goofiness often, she never doubt he actually care about his duty and others around him made me feel like...↑
hii!! i've read ur kamado siblings + giyuu stories on here and they are WOW amazing! if u can (dont feel rushed please!) could u write a little something with big brother rengoku (he lives!) and tanjiro (and nezuko if u like!) like a little aftermath of mugen train arc when they're like waking up, recovering, and dealing with like almost dying? thank u so much!!
awhh i'm so glad you like them!! and of course I can :D
cw! spoilers, mentions of suicide?? (nobody died, js the reference to Tanjiro having to die to release Enmu's hold on his dreams)
also totally didn't get carried away and included a lot of Kyojuro being big brother to Inosuke too 😭
Kyojuro had been the immediate concern when the Kakushi had arrived to find the survivors. There was, in fact, only survivors. But Kyojuro was so close to dying that there was a chance there may be one death. The others injured weren't in need of instant care except Tanjiro, though he would pull through as long as they made sure he didn't lose any more blood. But despite all of this, Kyojuro was the first to awake of the quintet—even Nezuko was still fast asleep, recharging after the amount of blood she had shed at the train. Kyojuro's mind was far from his own wounds, though he was not ignorant to them, and after undergoing Shinobu and Aoi's various tests and having another change of bandages, he requested to see the trio.
He was brought into the room with them, having been pronounced at least healed enough to be moved to a different room. He watched the sleeping figures of the children from his own bed, a crease of concern furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed the amount of bandages that peeked out from their clothing and the little signs of pain in their contorted expressions. He expressed his own worry, having Shinobu confirm that all three would heal just fine.
After he was quite sure that they would be fine, Kyojuro fell back into a deep but restless slumber. The next time he woke up, Zenitsu and Inosuke had awoken as well. Tanjiro had been injected with a sedative so he wouldn't wake up and accidentally worsen his stomach wound, but the other two were fine. In fact, they were the reason Kyojuro had woken up. They were loud. Enough to wake Kyojuro up even with his worse-for-wear hearing. Instead of chastising them for this, however, he simply laughed. He supposed it was nice to see them strong enough to get up and have shouting matches with each other. And he admired their ability to be so childish despite all the circumstances; this was why he kept fighting—to give children the childhoods they deserved.
He had to assure a fretting Zenitsu that he would be fine, especially with Aoi and Shinobu's quick thinking as they patched him all up. Of course, he was in no position to be back up and fighting any time soon, but he hoped that maybe he could find something to do to help.
As it turned out, he did find a way to help. In the Mugen Train, Zenitsu had been asleep most of the time and didn't remember most of what had happened, nor had he been there when Kyojuro had been fighting Akaza. But Inosuke had been awake and was now getting all fidgety, restless and constantly glancing over at Tanjiro. Eventually, Kyojuro asked what was wrong, having confirmed it as strange behavior even for Inosuke.
Of course, Inosuke was quite reluctant to spill the beans.
"I'm fine! I'm stronger than all of you! I woke up before Monitsu and Kentaro!! Don't be an idiot!!" he would gloat, crossing his arms and grinning proudly—his mask had been set aside to wash.
Kyojuro didn't press him, but he asked Inosuke how he was from time to time. Finally, Inosuke broke while they watched Aoi tend to Tanjiro's injuries. Tanjiro was prone to wake up soon and they had wanted him to be as healed as possible so he didn't attempt to move around too much.
There was no prompting to be needed this time, however. (Kyojuro had asked how Inosuke was earlier, only to recieve a "I'M GREATER THAN EVEN MISMATCHED HAORI"—whom he assumed meant Giyuu). Inosuke was staring at Tanjiro, uncharacteristically silent, when he started: "The dream things? With the ugly eye demon."
Kyojuro tilted his head. "The... Lowermoon?" he asked curiously. He scoot over a bit to give Inosuke room on his bed.
Inosuke shrugged, perching on the bed and turning to Kyojuro. "Gompanchiro said that to get out of the dreams you had to die," he explained. Then he huffed, glaring at the ground. "He was so stupid and kept getting reality and the dreams confused, it was annoying. He almost killed himself actually several times and it made fighting harder when I had to keep stopping him. This is why I'm way stronger than him, he's a big idiot."
Kyojuro nodded slowly, seeing where this was going. "But you did stop him! He's fine! See, young Aoi there said he'll be waking up any time now!" he encouraged, offering the boy a smile.
Inosuke grumbled. "Yeah, but he almost did it a lot. Too much. I thought he did it once. He also got stabbed right before so that was also annoying," he spat, turning to shoot daggers at Tanjiro's unconscious body. "I thought he died for a moment."
"Ah." Kyojuro's expression softened. Despite what Inosuke liked to claim, he really did care a lot. "Then it's good he has you by his side. You can help each other along the way."
Inosuke thought about this for a moment. "Yeah—he better be thanking me when he wakes up, it's all because of me he's fine!!" He cackled abruptly, placing his hands on his hips and opening his mouth to shout.
Aoi turned and snapped at him, telling him to sit back down and stop standing on beds.
Inosuke froze and instantly plopped down on the bed, stealing Kyojuro's blanket and covering himself with it to hide from Aoi.
"Well I'm better," came Inosuke's muffled response from below the sheets.
"You're both amazing."
"But I'm better!" Tufts of black and blue hair portruded from the blanket, followed by Inosuke's head. "I'm better than him!"
"Alright then," Kyojuro said, reaching forward and mussing Inosuke's hair.
Inosuke grinned triumphantly, batting away the hand and running off with Kyojuro's blanket to go laugh at Zenitsu. Kyojuro sighed. He would request a new blanket then.
×××
Tanjiro awoke the next day, delivering smiles brighter than the sun after he made sure everyone was okay. Kyojuro was finally up for getting up and out of his bed, though he was instructed to move slowly and deliberately. His body ached from not having moved much recently but he made do of what he could do, walking over to Tanjiro's bed to join Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Nezuko's box.
"I'm glad to see you awake!" Kyojuro said cheerfully.
Zenitsu shaded his eyes at the sunrays that seemed to emit from Tanjiro and Kyojuro's smiles.
"And it's good that you're going to be fine, I was really worried," Tanjiro fretted, fidgeting with his blanket. "I was sure you would die..."
Kyojuro chortled reassuringly. "I'm great! I'll admit that my injuries have made it a bit harder to move about freely, but I'm sure I'll be practically good as new! Except for my eye, of course," he said, waving a hand in front of his left eye, which he would no longer see from again.
Tanjiro nodded quickly. "I want to get better faster so I can fight a lot and be stronger! I could've helped you then..." he said, wilting. Apparently, it had been eating him alive even in his dreams with the fact that he had been unable to do anything in Kyojuro's fight with the Uppermoon.
"You'll get there! You persisted quite amazingly well against the Lowermoon!" Kyojuro assured him. "Not many people can do that!"
"I had a lot of help though," Tanjiro said, a frown slowly replacing his smile.
"Everyone needs help! You four helped me greatly!! By myself, it would've been endlessly harder and there would've been more casualties. But because the four of you were there and taking charge of the different parts of the train, it became endlessly easier. It also gave me the ability to save enough energy which I was able to channel later into fighting Akaza!" Kyojuro said, nodding to himself. "If it weren't for your help, I would've been more tired by the time Akaza had arrived."
"Don't say that... You still would've done really well," Tanjiro insisted.
"I'm only speaking facts, Kamado! Human beings rely on each other for help and support, it's natural! You needn't feel ashamed for something that everyone needs!" Kyojuro said, taking on a scolding tone. "You—and your sister, Agatsuma, and Hashibira—did really well!"
Tanjiro hesitated but reluctantly accepted the compliment. Inosuke, meanwhile, was off dashing through the Butterfly Estate again to say that a Hashira told him he was the best (although Kyojuro had not said anything of the sort).
Zenitsu perched himself on the edge of Tanjiro's bed. "I don't even remember doing anything, so just be glad," he huffed, flicking Tanjiro's forehead—then clutching his finger in pain.
Tanjiro laughed gently. "Well, I'm sure Nezuko can tell us how great of a job you did."
Zenitsu instantly brightened and went back to sit by Nezuko's box, murmuring to her, though no doubt she was fast asleep.
Kyojuro watched them for a moment, then turned back to Tanjiro. "I don't think I can take you three in as my Tsugoku because of my condition—Kocho says I may not be able to resume my work as a Hashira—but I certainly want to take you in as a family," he said with a pout.
Tanjiro, startled, stared at him for a moment. "Wha?-"
Kyojuro grinned. "I'll apologize to Tomioka later."
Tanjiro frowned, head spinning. "Giyuu-san? Apologize? Huh-??"
He recieved only a triumphant smile in return.
I'll be honest: I didn't know where I was going with this when I started so I'm unsure how to feel about it- anywayyss, hope it was ok tho!
