#corvidxe

" I’d never been so happy as that moment… as I held hands with death, " said @corvidxe

" Truly? " His voice comes as a sharp edge cutting expertly through the darkness, seeking purchase on bared flesh before it; a low, sibilant inquiry.

There might have been a grin somewhere, stitched into the corners of his lips. Hidden away in the cascade of darkness, the only thing to come forth was the curl of his pointer finger. Its hooked claw clips beneath the silver chain wreathed around Medea's neck, keratin feeling along the links, slowly && deliberately lifting it away from the breast it rested on.

" Would you seek it again? " he asks, riveted by the possibility, " would you capture Death's hand and refuse to relinquish it a second time? "

prompt tag

He can't say he forgives her. Not now.

He'd told himself once that it had been an accident, something that came to fruition after he'd already left Suchin, then left then to realize she's pregnant on her own. To now know different, that she was aware and chose to hide it from him, that made it difficult to accept.

She could have chosen to not say anything, to close off her thoughts and never let him into the secrets she kept. And yet she was honest - and perhaps that was admirable, but all it did was layer another misfortune on top of the miserable tearing of their relationship.

"Hey, I like being liked." Takeda's voice is on the border of petulant, a pout visible as he he takes in her words, but it doesn't last long before it melts away into the passive amusement he always presents. "I think I'm a pretty likeable guy. I'm funny, charming, got nice tight pants. What more could people need?"

All that, however, is on a surface level. Get to know him beyond that, and even his besties find him annoying on a good day. Props of being a mind reader and always knowing what they're going to say.

There is an odd sense of misplacement that rears it's head at her presence, a feeling that he has tried his best to bury under the weight of his responsibilities regarding raising Takeda. Guilt has always lapped at him like a rising tide, the selfish desire to claim what was not his as family something he had to work through on his own time… and it was easy to bury it when all he had to deal with was Kenshi, the man's hands off temperament when dealing with Takeda giving Hanzo the space to step into a paternal figure.

Faced with Suchin, however, Hanzo must face such feelings head on. She was the boy's mother, she gave her life to protect him, she was his everything until the fateful day they were separated by fate's cruel hand. So he over-corrects himself, holds himself to higher standards still than usual, wanting to prove in some way that he was worthy of the rights handed off to him by a less than stellar parent.

FAMILIAR / PLATONIC PROMPTS

It's such an odd thing. The way she's warmed up to him, the way she welcomes him. At a point in time neither of them could stand the other, but through hardships faced together did they find common ground, seen each other beyond what their reputation warned of them.

And like a stray cat, he cannot reconcilie with the fact that someone wants him around, someone wants to keep them, welcome him into their home. He's gotten used to being handed scraps of care on his travels, some taking pity on the blind swordsman, but this was diferente, and it was diferente in a way that frightened him. She was genuine, she was caring, she was smart and funny and everything he could want in a woman, it was simply too good to be true, a lifetime spent learning that he'd only ever amount to a wandering swordsman, a blade in search of a cause.

🌶️

She lays off the edge of the bed, her legs dangling off it as he kneels between her legs, arms wrapped around her waist, face buried against her heat, his nose filled with her scent, his tongue covered in her taste. He eats at her like a man starved, hot wet tongue lapping against her folds as if he could swallow her whole.

Her hand is in his hair, his name is on her lips, she squirms incessantly to try and catch a break from the intense sensation he was subjecting her to, but Kenshi holds her firm, presses his tongue against her, sucks at the hooded clit which perked up proud at his attention. He is more aroused than he has ever been, feeling himself twitch, stomach clench with every moan that he drives out of her lungs, the feel of her legs wrapping around his head, resting against his back and pulling him closer giving him no space to lean back… not that he wants to.

Drool and slick runs down the stubble on his chin, Kenshi is incessant in his efforts to have her reach her climax before he allows himself to, the act of giving one that satisfies the latent loneliness that follows him in life, her touch one that soothes the starvation he has felt. He thinks he might love her.

Her hips buck into his face, a groan falls from her lips, he knows she is close, and he doubles his efforts, moaning himself as he feels her thighs clench around his head, feels the tension coiling in her stomach, one of his arms moves across the expanse of her skin, greedy in his want to feel as she comes undone.

And she does, her back arching, her legs a vice around him, Suchin hugs herself as waves of pleasure come crashing down, she can't help the way her hips move, trying to rut against his mouth some more as she squirts right in his face.

ghost of tsushima starters

He doesn't understand her, cannot see things the way she sees them, and perhaps that is what drew him to her in the first place. Is it selfish of him to wish she changed her mind? To see what his presence in her life lead to and wish she had never given him her time?

And then comes guilt, the awareness of what he was wishing for: for their relationship to not exist, for Takeda to not have been born. But would that not be a mercy on them both? Her, alive. Takeda never knowing what it was like to lose everything so Young… and he, still alone, never having to know loss so intimately.

He is. He is selfish.

"You are stronger than I am." Kenshi finally admits, looking where he expected her to be, his expression heavy with emoticons he couldn't place, the disconnect he felt from his feelings something stark, something he had come to see as na advantage, something he thought made him more rational, neutral in matters of mind and spirit.

In moments like this, however, this difficulty with emotion feels childish.

Takeda wants to say that he doesn't know what's going on, wants to cling to childish naiveté and ask for her to stay, to not leave him here… but that's been taken from him for a long time now, life spent on the run with no possibility of ever truly settling down.

"Ma…" But a part of him still wants to try, even as her hands grasp his own, even as she smiles so reassuringly, a sight that's familiar, one that he's seen many times before. She came back for him, every time, and yet it felt final even so. But he doesn't want to disappoint his mom, not when he knows how much she does for him, no matter where they are… he knows what to do next. He's done this before.