Jiraiya x Reader Stories(Smut)

Half Alive [GN]

This is just straight up angst. Ya boy has big survivors guilt and reader gets edo tenseied back to life.

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It's hard to stay strong.

It hasn't been that long since you died. And each day that passes the pain of it doesn't go away. Jiraiya looks around him. His friends. His comrades. People sworn to fight another new threat. Usually during the calm before the storm he's on edge like everyone else. But he's just... numb.

You should be here instead of him.

He couldn't ask you why. You passed away too quickly. All he could do was beg you not to go. But you didn't listen. You traded places with him. You healed him at the expense of your own life. You died in his arms with only a blood stained smile to offer. And he feels alone. It feels like no one cared about you other than him. They took your sacrifice in stride and told him how happy they were that he was still here.

He's not happy about it.

It feels like his heart only beats because it has to. He breathes because he has no choice. The feel of the grass on his toes and the wind on his skin isn't as refreshing as it once was. He only feels these things because you died.

It's a horrible feeling to clutch onto but he has no choice.

That's when the storm broke.

As Jiraiya contemplated why he's alive shit hit the fan. People were shaken at the sight before them. It was the enemy. But the enemy isn't exactly... alive. The old forbidden jutsu of resurrection. It's bad enough to bring back one, but a whole group?

From talented names that had barely started their legacy to the long forgotten. And it's a task not made easy. Cutting them open only stalled them. Particles seemed to pull from the void and gather around the wound. The paper like material inside of the resurrected pulled together and healed. No matter the size of the wound they didn't go down quickly.

The strategy was to find the one who is controlling them. Take out the head of this show and it'll all fall apart. At this point Jiraiya is with the mass of his allies, distracting and engaging the enemy so the small team assigned to seeking the puppet master out can do it without too many set backs.

Someone in surprise stammered you name. He stopped what he was doing completely and looked around. They wouldn't...

But there you are.

With cracks in your face and the whites of your eyes black. A resurrected puppet like the rest of them. As much as people have been saying that they are only dolls and not truly them it's still hard. It's a cruel lie and a cruel jutsu. These are the faces of the dead with all their special attacks but it's not them. Despite that he can't bring himself to block you when you head straight to him. He couldn't ever lay a finger on you.

"Move!" You cry out.

The simple kunai you were brandishing moves and he lets it. The armour he wears protects as much of the impact as it can but it only protect so much. It's designed to minimize damage but not stop it completely. Especially when the wearer practically hugs the knife.

"Why?" You whisper as you look up at him. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I know you don't."

He grimaced when you pull the blade out. You can't control yourself. Not completely anyways. You apologize and your hand shakes violently as you try to brace the wound you made. You're ice cold. Making him bleed is the last thing you want right now. He knows that.